"He was worried about Gerald. He convinced himself the guy was watching my flat. Jeremy was trying to disguise himself." He gulped. "You really think someone might have been after me? But who? Why?"

The lawyer raised his eyebrows. "You accused Gerald of rape. That's a terrible accusation and even if he didn't do it, the mud would stick and he's in public office. He can't afford the risk. Maybe he told Prescott. You refused to go to more of Prescott's parties despite his threats. If you're causing ripples in his operation, he might have wanted to get rid of you. But why not wait for you to come and then kill you? Why put those items in your pocket? I have to say it all seems rather extreme. Plenty more fish out there, so to speak."

Gee, thanks.

The door opened and a doctor came in. "You're supposed to be resting," he said to Tyler.

"I am," Tyler mumbled and when the doctor glared, he lay down.

"I thought you might like to know that Jeremy's out of theatre. He's going to be fine."

Tyler let out a low moan of relief and put his hand over his eyes for a moment before he stared at the doctor. "He wants to be a pilot," he blurted.

"There's no reason why he can't be. He's a lucky guy."

"Is he talking?" Dunnock asked.

"Not yet. The police are waiting to speak to him."

"Thank you," Tyler said. "Thank you for coming to tell me. I thought...thank you."

Haris felt like he'd been caught up in a sandstorm and spat out the other side rubbed raw. The man embracing Tyler in the photo Stan had taken was Jeremy and not some stranger. Haris hadn't looked beyond the black hair. Maybe whoever attacked Jeremy hadn't looked beyond the black hair either. Had Tyler been the intended target?

He belatedly realized the doctor had gone and Michael was speaking to him.

"I don't see any point in me hanging around," Michael said. "When Jeremy is able to talk, hopefully he'll confirm Tyler didn't stab him. If he doesn't know who attacked him, we might be in trouble but whatever the case, Tyler will be in here until tomorrow and the police aren't allowed to question him until he's been declared fit. I'll be back in the morning. Either here or at the station."

Haris stood up and shook his hand. "Thanks, Michael."

"Walk me out?" he asked.

"Sure."

When Haris glanced at the bed, Tyler was coiled up again, his eyes closed, and he felt a rush of protectiveness, an urge to kill anyone who tried to hurt him. Outside the room, the policeman who was supposed to be watching Tyler was still chatting at the nurses' station.

"Do your job," Haris snapped. "He might have been the target."

The policeman straightened and Michael dragged Haris out. "That's not helping."

Out in the corridor, Michael let him go. "Is there any other reason Tyler might have been the target? Has Karl tried to contact you?"

Karl?

Haris dragged his fingers through his hair. "I haven't seen or been in touch with Karl for almost five years. Have you?"

"No. If he's still playing, he's doing it very quietly or in another city."

"You can't think Karl is behind this."

Michael shrugged. "I find it's best to keep an open mind. Karl was an angry young man."

"But five years? Why start now?"

"Well, it was just a thought."

"Do you know an Asian rigger called Lu?" Haris asked.

"I've heard of him. I've not seen him work."

"You might like to drop a hint on the circuit that he should be watched. He's not...careful with his subs."

Michael nodded. "Noted. Are you and Tyler...?"

"No. He's not into it and neither am I, not anymore. It almost cost me everything. I would never take that chance again."

"Be careful, Haris. The lifestyle doesn't ever really let you go. Tyler has sub written all over him."

Haris smiled. "Actually, you're wrong."

After Michael had gone, he leaned against the wall and tipped his head back. Five years ago, his relationship with Karl had almost ended in disaster. He should have known better than to let his sub dictate the pace. He did know better, but he'd felt something for Karl who'd continually told Haris he loved him until Haris had been convinced he loved him back. He'd allowed Karl to push his boundaries beyond the acceptable.

Haris didn't recognize the problem in the relationship until it was almost too late. In a final refusal to go as far as Karl wanted, Haris opened the door to another taking his place, a Dom with less qualms, and Karl had nearly died. When Karl had sued Haris, he'd turned to Michael and been stunned when he realized by chance he'd found the one lawyer who knew the BDSM world inside out.

Haris had emerged more or less intact from the whole business, Karl had given up his ridiculous suit, but Haris's capacity to trust had been shattered. Karl hadn't loved him and he hadn't loved Karl. Getting so deeply involved with anyone was too risky. He should have learned the lesson when he'd been arrested in Riyadh and discovered who'd betrayed him.

Never trust anyone.

But he hadn't counted on meeting a guy like Tyler. He was f.u.c.ked up beyond belief, but Haris had seen an innate innocence about him that had made Haris open his heart. He'd warned himself to be careful and he'd still fallen. Tyler might not have cheated on him but he wasn't an innocent. What a f.u.c.king mess.

He stayed in the hallway for almost an hour, trying to think of what to say to Tyler. He didn't believe for one second he'd stabbed Jeremy, but had he even managed to tell him that? As he pushed himself upright, he spotted a uniformed policeman and another man who looked like a cop walking toward him. Or rather walking toward Tyler's ward. His heart jumped into his throat as he stepped forward.

"Is Jeremy okay?" he asked.

"You a friend of his?" the one not in uniform asked.

"I've met him once. I'm a friend of Tyler's."

"Then you'll be pleased to hear Tyler's no longer a person of interest. Jeremy came round asking for him and told us Tyler didn't stab him."

Haris exhaled in relief. "Does he know who did?"

"A guy he'd never seen before."

Haris followed the police into the ward and watched Tyler crumple when they told him they no longer suspected him of attacking Jeremy.

"We'll need to speak to you tomorrow after you're cleared of concussion, but for the time being, you're free to go," said the man who'd spoken to Haris. "You can collect your clothes and phone from the station in the morning."

The moment the police left, Tyler swung his feet out of bed and stood.

"Hey, what are you doing?" Haris moved to his side.

"I don't want to stay in here."

"Let me call Wilson and tell him to bring the car to the entrance."

Tyler turned to him, the dark shadows under his eyes betraying his exhaustion. "You want me to go back with you?"

Haris frowned. "Where else would you go?"

A sad smile flittered across Tyler's face. "I think I can find a hotel." He took his shoes from the locker and put them on.

"But you're not supposed to be left on your own when you're suffering from concussion." I'm a moron.

The look Tyler gave him almost broke his heart. A look that told Haris he'd more than disappointed him.

Tell him what you want. Make him understand.

"I...I don't want you to go and stay in a hotel. I want you to come home." He held his breath until Tyler shrugged.

It was a start.

Tyler had to sign a release before they'd let him go. He wanted to see Jeremy but Haris persuaded him to wait until the next day.

When Wilson pulled up, Tyler climbed into the back of the car and curled up against the door.

"Are you all right?" Wilson asked.

"Yes, thank you," Tyler muttered.

The journey back to Holland Park was a silent one. Haris didn't know what to say, how to reach him. He knew in some way he'd let Tyler down and yet he wasn't the one who'd f.u.c.ked guys for money, he wasn't the one embroiled in some seedy s.e.x club, he wasn't the one who'd been suspected of murder. He should be the one p.i.s.sed off and not Tyler. But Tyler looked broken and that broke something inside Haris.

Tyler kicked off his shoes at the bottom of the stairs and Haris followed him up. In the hallway outside his room, Haris caught hold of his arm before he could make for the next flight. "We need to talk."

"No, we don't. It's okay," Tyler said quietly. "I'll leave tomorrow."

"I don't want you to leave. I want you to talk to me."

Tyler shook off his hold and glared. "Talk? I'm all f.u.c.king talked out. I think it's your turn."

"What do you mean?"

"Did you think I'd stabbed Jeremy?"

Haris's mouth fell open in shock. "Of course not."

"You never said that. You didn't say anything. I know I've done some f.u.c.ked up stuff. I know you didn't think that's what you'd be getting when you offered me that contract, but when I told the lawyer about Prescott, you didn't even act surprised, so I thought, maybe you did know. Maybe you knew exactly what your money was buying. Maybe you thought I'd stabbed Jeremy because he'd told you about Prescott's parties."

"I didn't. I swear to you. Christ, Tyler, I know you would never stab anyone."

Tyler shook his head. "No, you don't. No one knows how far people will go if they're pushed, if they're desperate. Look at my father."

"I've watched you catch spiders and let them go. You'd never hurt anyone or anything, not deliberately."

"I should have told you about the parties right at the start."

"I don't care about the f.u.c.king parties and what you did there. I'm sorry you were so desperate you had to resort to that, but they're in your past not your future."

Tyler shook his head. "How can you not care?"

"Don't get me wrong. Part of me does. When I think about other guys touching you, caressing you, getting you to suck them off, I'd like to rip their d.i.c.ks out through their f.u.c.king throats."

Tyler gurgled and stood straighter. "Even Jeremy?"

Haris let out a brief chuckle. "h.e.l.l yes. So I have a motive too. Luckily I also have an alibi. Now are we going to stand here all night and beat each other up about what should have been said and wasn't or are you going to come to bed?"

He held his breath again and offered Tyler his hand.

When Tyler took it, Haris pulled him into his arms and held him tight, pressing his face into his hair, inhaling him. What if you'd been the one stabbed? How could I live without you? He ought to say that out loud, but the words log jammed in his head.

For once, they shed their clothes unhurriedly. Haris wanted no more than to hold Tyler in his arms until morning, but their rock hard c.o.c.ks had other ideas. Tyler pushed him to sit on the bed, and then knelt between his legs and wrapped his fingers around Haris's d.i.c.k. One brush over the crown by Tyler's thumb and his heart jumped. Tyler lifted Haris's hand and pressed his lips to his palm, his tongue snaking out to trace a circle. When Haris stroked his cheek with his fingers, Tyler turned into the caress with a sigh. His stomach lurched as he looked down into Tyler's dark eyes.

"I thought you'd be disgusted," Tyler whispered. "I mean I know you're paying me but one man is different to a whole load of guys when I didn't even know their names or want to know them or even want to see them again." He paused. "It is different, isn't it?"

Do you even have to ask? "Yes. You're in my home, in my life. I...care about you. Which is why I should pull you into bed and let you sleep, not take advantage of you."

Tyler laughed and nipped the fleshy pad of his palm, pulling it between his teeth and Haris felt the drag in his b.a.l.l.s.

"I'm too wired to sleep," Tyler said. "I'm just so happy Jeremy's not dead. Not because I could have been in so much s.h.i.t but yeah, that too."

A groan burst from Haris's throat when Tyler sucked two of his fingers into his mouth. Why did that make him ache? His palm tingled from the press of Tyler's teeth and lips, and he lifted his other hand to Tyler's hair and let the short locks slip through his fingers. He accidentally touched the lump on his head and Tyler flinched.

"Sorry," Haris mumbled. "You're concussed. Are you sure...?"

"You know, you're right. I'm not well. Why don't we read a book?"

Tyler held a straight face for no more than a couple of seconds before he snorted. Need rose inside Haris like a tsunami. It grew, spread and overwhelmed every cell until his body flooded with want, desire spilling over to choke him.

Nothing in his life had ever felt like this.

Tyler climbed onto his lap and their c.o.c.ks pressed against each other. Haris spread his hands on Tyler's b.u.t.t and ran his fingers down the crease, brushing the pad of his middle finger over the entrance to Tyler's body. Tyler moaned and kissed him, tentative at first, a soft and slow exploration of his mouth until Haris dragged him closer, held him tighter, their c.o.c.ks doing some kissing of their own, before he fell back on the bed with Tyler on top, his tongue twisting like a cyclone around his own.

How many hands does he have? They seemed to be everywhere, around his c.o.c.k, running over his chest and stomach, in his hair. Tyler twisted one of Haris's nipples with his fingers and sucked at the other until Haris gasped beneath him in a swirl of pleasure and pain, his chest heaving. The guy found every place on his body to set fires burning.

Tyler gazed down, flushed and panting. "I'm hungry. I want your c.o.c.k in my mouth."

A shiver of delight skated down Haris's spine and his b.u.t.tocks tensed. Tyler slipped onto the floor and maneuvered Haris until his legs were on the bed and spread. Haris leaned up on his elbows to watch. Tyler's lips parted and his tongue reached out to touch the very tip of Haris's c.o.c.k. Goose b.u.mps spread over his chest and it hurt to breathe.

"You taste so good," Tyler whispered.