Chapter Fourteen

Phillip was pinned to the bed by a large sweaty man. His arm had somehow gotten wedged under Carne’s leg and prickled with pins and needles, and his neck had developed a crick. His arse and balls ached. He’d never felt better in his life.

And then he felt a drop of water, a tear, land on his neck. Carne was crying? Oh damn and blast, Phillip didn’t know what he could do if his new friend had retreated and traded pleasure for guilt. How could he comfort someone if Phillip formed the reason for the sorrow?

“Are you well?” he whispered.

Carne nodded, his hair brushing Phillip’s cheek and neck. He pushed himself up. Almost at once, Phillip missed the bulky weight of the man.

“Now you,” Carne said. His eyes might have been a bit red, but he looked cheerful, and his smile held interest. “We’ll take care of you.”

Hallelujah, Phillip wouldn’t be abandoned by the big man after all.

Carne brushed his hand down Phillip’s side and across his belly, damp with sweat and spending.

“Um. No need.” Phillip blushed. From the mere pressure of Carne’s belly sliding over his cock, he had orgasmed as fast and hard as a boy just discovering pleasure.

Carne bent and kissed him, a sweet lazy kiss that deepened slowly. When Carne pulled away, they both breathed hard.

Phillip pulled him down, and Carne landed with a grunt of surprise. “You’re strong for such a skinny lad.”

“Don’t you forget it.” Phillip waved a finger in mock emphasis.

Carne reached for his hand and touched the bandage. “Let me see.”

Without waiting for permission, he unwound the cloth. “Best to leave it open to the air.”

Phillip opened and closed his hand experimentally. “It barely hurts at all. I’m always nicking myself when I tinker with engines, and those cuts don’t heal nearly as fast. Perhaps the salt water helped.”

“Where did you fall?”

Phillip pretended not to hear.

Carne leaned up on one elbow. “In a cave, hmm?”

“Those caves and their history are much of the reason I’m here, you know.” Phillip tried to be jocular, but he could feel the way Carne stilled. Perhaps now was the time to tell him about the encounter with Mitchell, while they were naked. “Carne, we should talk about this— Oh my.”

Carne had leaned down and gently bit Phillip’s nipple—and perhaps it was to distract Phillip. A gentle lap of Carne’s tongue over the spot he’d scraped with his teeth made Phillip groan again. Nothing was more important than enjoying this magnificent man.

By the time they dragged themselves from the bed, too hungry to ignore their grumbling stomachs, the last of the daylight had faded from the sky. They grabbed food and ate, standing and naked. Phillip adjusted his glasses and peered out the warped diamond panes of glass at the first stars.

“No sailing for us tonight,” he said, and ate the last of his pasty.

“We might go in the morning,” Carne offered. He leaned against the table and chewed his meat pie.

Phillip reflected that the casual way they ate suited him perfectly. He sucked the last bit of gravy off his finger. “We have to be back before three.”

“Oh? And why’s that?”

“I have an appointment.” He wished he didn’t, but perhaps this meeting would put him in the good graces of the surly Mitchells.

“With who?” Carne suddenly sounded guarded. “What kind of appointment?”

Phillip wasn’t sure he wanted to have this conversation naked. He walked past the glowering man blocking his way to the bedroom and pulled on his underclothes, trousers, and shirt. When he got back to the main room, Carne had put on his shirt from the previous night and trousers he’d gotten from somewhere. He stood, washing the dishes they’d used. Barefoot, he walked to the door, tossed out the water, then sat at the table.

“Talk to me,” he demanded.

“You need to know where I go and who I see because you are my keeper, aren’t you.” Phillip felt crestfallen and foolish. “The Mitchells probably appointed you the position of caretaker of the annoying visitor, yes?”

“What are you jabbering about?” But this time, Carne’s question sounded less grim.

“You’re not a very good actor, but neither am I, I think.” Phillip rested his chin on his fist. “You’re supposed to keep me occupied and away from whatever is going on in the village.”

Carne didn’t answer.

“And I can take my pictures and ask questions as long as the questions aren’t too pointed or the pictures of…particular places. I suppose I should have understood this right away, but I wanted you to spend time with me because you wanted to.”

“I think what we did today proves I wanted to spend time with you. Time and other things.” He gave a suggestive leer.

“That’s true.” Phillip fought a grin because he wasn’t going to be side-tracked. “Do you deny the rest?”

“Nothing to deny,” Carne said a little too forcefully. He obviously didn’t want to share his secrets. His body, yes, but nothing else.

Phillip reflected that his own instincts went too far the other direction, his past, his secrets, his hopes and dreams would spill out at the first intimate smile. Of course he had only one secret corner to keep hidden. Phillip Singleton, open book to anyone who cared to read him—except when it came to the matter of his perverse affections of course; he wasn’t an idiot. But Carne, glowering and private, knew everything there was to know about Phillip.

And Phillip didn’t even know what Carne did to keep the food on the table.

“I don’t care, you know.” Phillip put his hand out and stroked the back of Carne’s strong sunburned hand. “Smuggling, piracy—anything short of murdering visitors and stealing their wealth. That I might not condone, but the rest. Well, I don’t care.”

“Leave it be.”

“But I want to know what—”

Carne grabbed his hand and held it tight. “Phillip. Pirates from a penny dreadful don’t exist.”

“What are you talking about?”

Carne made a disgusted noise. “Buccaneers with feathers in their hats and some kind of code of honor. No. Leave off.”

“You can trust me, you know.”

Carne pulled his hand away. “Who are you meeting at three?”

Phillip shook his head slowly. “I’m not going to tell you if you won’t talk to me.”

“Don’t be a dobeck. How am I to protect you if you won’t tell me who you’re meeting?”

“I haven’t asked you for protection. I hired you as a local guide, not guard.”

“You seem to need both.”

Phillip rubbed his face. “I’m going to go work.” He rose without another word. Forcing back explanations and accusations was difficult for Phillip, but he managed to grab a lamp and make his way to his room without looking back or speaking. He closed the door behind him softly. Slamming might be more satisfying but he was more sad than angry.

One of the most exciting sensual experiences of his life—he couldn’t imagine such a connection again—and it was with a man who didn’t trust him. Or perhaps Carne didn’t trust anyone. He seemed rather an outsider, poor man, respected by the other villagers, but holding himself a bit aloof from them. His house set apart on this hill… Phillip could never live like that, alone, away from laughter and conversation.

He shook his head with vigor to drive out the thoughts because he didn’t enjoy dwelling on anything that reminded of his own loneliness. He didn’t know Carne well, but he already felt his loss of the man before they even parted. Work should take him out of this mournful moment.

He gathered his papers, his pen and ink and a blank piece of paper, and set to work making a reproduction of the treasure map for Mitchell. There wasn’t enough room to work on any surface other than the floor, so he knelt there to work, his papers and proper maps spread in front of him.

The subtle scent of Carne on his skin haunted him. He stopped to blot some ink and realized he’d picked up the cloth he’d used to wipe his belly when he caught a whiff of earthy semen. Desire twisted through him.

He tossed the cloth into the far corner and stretched out on the rough wooden floor planks. The map he’d purchased in London crunched under his thigh. Phillip was scrupulously neat with documents, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

This would not do. He refused to mourn for Carne—a lover gained and lost in the course of a couple of days—as he had over Gavin or Ian Davis. That sort of mooning was for a boy who’d never had his heart broken. He was too old and experienced to be a complete ninny. Carne had never been his to begin with. Phillip had been an intriguing experiment to him, nothing more.

Phillip sat up and forced himself to concentrate on the map. After an hour or so, when footsteps sounded just outside his door, he put down his pen, ready to spring up and continue their conversation. He’d give in and tell Carne everything. He’d show him the map and read the papers to him. Once he’d finished his own confession, he’d throw the fisherman down on the bed and coerce the helpless and excited Carne to tell Phillip all his secrets. Phillip grinned when he realized he sported the start of another erection.

But the footsteps continued past. The strip of weak light under his door went out, and he heard the soft thump of a door closing. Phillip didn’t lie back down.

Outside, the wind picked up and the sound of distant waves crashing seemed louder. This spot on the hill would always be noisy, never peaceful.

Phillip went back to work, determined to make as accurate a map as possible to show Mitchell. He might be hostile and even dangerous, but he could be key to helping Phillip find actual antiquities. That would make an amazing final chapter to his travelogue.

He fell asleep on the floor of the bedroom, waking only when he heard Carne cursing. Doors thumped, and Phillip realized it was morning and that Carne had been outdoors. A moment later, Carne rapped hard on his door and said, “You’d better come see. Put your shoes on.”

Phillip lurched to his feet, his body aching from the short sleep on the hard floor. He stumbled out to join Carne, who led him outside and around to the back of the cottage.

Someone had attacked his motorcar.