Haris's lips curled in a bright smile, and Tyler thought how beautiful he was with his brilliant green eyes, silky dark hair and sharp cheekbones. Exotic. Not English?

"Where do you come from?" Tyler asked.

"London."

"Originally?"

"The Middle East, Saudi Arabia, but I've spent more time in the UK than I have in the country of my birth."

"Is your name really Evans?"

"My mother's maiden name. Easier for Brits to handle."

"Are your parents still alive?" Tyler asked.

"My mother died when I was eighteen. As far as I know, my father's still living."

Ah right. You have issues too.

"Brothers and sisters?" Haris asked.

Tyler shook his head and thought about the final time he'd seen his brother, Noel, and his sister, Claire. He couldn't remember what they looked like now and that hurt. "How about you?"

"Two brothers. Still living, last I knew."

Last he knew? Had Haris turned his back on his family or was it the other way round?

"Not my choice," Haris said quietly, reading his mind. "I didn't fit in with what was required of me."

"That might be the only thing we have in common."

Haris huffed. "I think we have more in common than that." He topped up Tyler's champagne. "How did you develop an interest in music?"

"My mother. She played the piano and I begged her to teach me. She started when I was four. Called me her little Mozart. After she died, I had no piano to play on so I made one." He swallowed as he recalled what he'd done. "I peeled away a long strip of wallpaper below where my bed sat against the wall, thinking no one would notice. I weighed it down and drew the keys exactly the right size and when I ran my fingers over the paper, I could play in my head. I kept my paper piano rolled up and hidden but eventually the bed was moved and I got found out. That was the end of that foster home. 'Destructive tendencies' was written on my notes. I'm an expert at reading upside down. I never read anything good."

Their food arrived and his stomach rumbled.

"That was very inventive," Haris said. "When did you get to play the real thing again?"

"Once I started high school. I asked the music teacher if I could go in early to practice. He must have seen some spark of talent because he arranged free lessons and gave me his old acoustic guitar. Music was the only thing I loved-apart from w.a.n.king."

Haris laughed.

Tyler rarely got to eat steak. In fact he'd only ever eaten it when someone had bought it for him which wasn't often. This was perfect. The chargrilled outside dark and crispy, the inside so soft he hardly had to use his knife. But most importantly there was no blood. He wasn't good with blood. He had a habit of vomiting when he saw it. And fainting. Which made him feel an idiot.

"Are you musical?" he asked.

"No, but I like listening to music."

"What sort?"

"Depends on my state of mind or the one I'd like to be in."

Tyler appreciated that answer. "How did listening to me play make you feel?"

Haris laughed. "h.o.r.n.y."

A shiver of l.u.s.t trickled down his spine. It grew easier and easier to imagine himself with this man.

"What are your plans when you graduate?"

"Get a job." No point tormenting himself with thoughts about making it in the music world. He was neither lucky nor talented enough, nor was he good at a.r.s.e-licking, well not in that way.

"What sort of job?"

"I plan to find a position in a call center persuading people they've overpaid on their mortgage payment protection policy."

Haris almost spat his champagne back into his gla.s.s as he laughed. "Alternatively?"

"Land a contract with a music mogul." Tyler shrugged. "I don't know. I'm hoping inspiration strikes before I'm forced to resort to telephone selling. What do you do?"

"I'm a venture capitalist."

"With your money or someone else's?"

"Mixture of the two."

"That's lucky." Tyler leaned forward. "I have a brilliant idea for a business that involves a man, a guitar and a piano. I don't want to say anymore at the moment in case someone steals the concept but it's out of this world."

Haris took a sip of his champagne. "I specialize in green energy companies."

"I could paint myself green if that helps, and the piano and guitar for that matter. Well, if I had a piano."

He smiled. "I need a bit more to go on than that."

"d.a.m.n. I'll have to think about it. What made you go into venture capitalism?"

"I wanted to make a lot of money. More than a lot. I suppose to prove a point to my father."

Oh f.u.c.k, maybe that's something I wish we didn't have in common.

"I studied economics at university," Haris said, "and went straight into a big investment company. When I'd learned enough, I branched out on my own."

"I have to a.s.sume you've been successful if you can afford to throw thirty thousand at me."

Haris put down his champagne. "Very successful. I'm rarely wrong in my a.s.sessment of whether something will work or not, whether I've reached the decision after careful research or through a gut instinct."

Tyler got the message. Haris seemed different tonight, more in control, far more confident. Tyler sagged. The guy already knew he'd say yes to just about anything.

He took a drink of champagne. "Isn't it risky, putting money into something unproven? Things could go t.i.ts up very fast."

"I told you, I'm rarely wrong."

Guess the Rolex on his wrist is real and not some attempt to fool me into s.e.x for four months with nothing at the end of it.

"What exactly do you do all day?" Tyler asked.

"Interact with clients, bankers, financial a.n.a.lysts and entrepreneurs. The job's about networking, a combination of people skills and playing the market. Everyone wants something different and I have to make sure all those needs are met." Haris twisted his fork in his fingers. "I spend hours on the phone and the Internet evaluating investment opportunities, figuring out whether the company will fly, what the level of interest will be, how much I'm likely to make, who to share the risk with if I need to. It's high octane, intensive and stressful but I love it. What I don't like to do is to make mistakes once I've found something I'm interested in, and consequently I need to know every tiny detail. There's always something to occupy me. I'm not good at relaxing."

And you're lonely. He hadn't said it, but Tyler felt it. And I'm lonely too.

"Why me?" Tyler had asked before but he needed to ask again. "Why did you think you needed to pay me?" He pushed his empty plate away. He could have eaten that meal all over again.

"Because this way we both know exactly what we're getting into. Money's not an issue for me. I'm happy to pay for four months of exclusivity and I'm guessing after nearly three years at college you'll have racked up a fair amount of debt."

Tyler tried not to stiffen but he couldn't help it. No way could Haris know the real reason behind his need to pay off what he owed. The guy might be an expert on researching investment opportunities, but Tyler didn't want to be subject to that sort of scrutiny. There was too much in his past that could come back and bite him.

Haris put a folded sheet of paper on the table between them. When Tyler picked it up he saw there were two pages with dotted lines at the bottom for their signatures. He read carefully.

A confidentiality clause. Right, as if he were likely to blab about this.

Place of employment. Haris's address in Holland Park. Though he'd still need to keep his flat. There had to be somewhere to come back to after they were done.

Exclusively Haris's for four months. He'd never been with anyone for that long.

For a sum of twenty thousand pounds. An amount that stole his breath.

Plus ten thousand for clothes, shoes, sundries. No breath left to steal.

"No pension?" Tyler asked.

Haris smiled. "You in or out?"

Tyler took the pen he offered and signed, twice. What did he have to lose? He could cope with four months of anything for that sort of money.

Haris signed both sheets and handed one to Tyler. They weren't worth the paper they were written on, though he hoped Tyler would think the opposite. No way would he have involved a lawyer, he'd written the contract himself. But Tyler had signed. He'd agreed. Haris could hardly believe it.

It was possible the s.e.x would be disastrous. Possible but highly unlikely. Every cell in his body was magnetically attracted to Tyler. s.e.x would be outstandingly good. Hot, sweaty, fast and furious f.u.c.king which would make him relieved his room was a long way from Wilson's. He and Tyler were going to be noisy.

"Now what?" Tyler asked.

Now I have to sit and wait for my erection to subside.

"I want you to move in tomorrow," Haris said.

Tyler shifted in his seat. "Should we try things out first?"

Haris bristled. "You just signed the contract."

"You might be disappointed. You don't know what I'm like. My habit of throwing my socks in a corner might drive you crazy. You don't know me."

You're so s.e.xy you take my breath away. "I know you don't like liver, you prefer your steak well done, you love music and you're talented. You miss your mother, you had a rough childhood and you've learned to be self-reliant. You're not afraid of much, but you don't like to have your breathing restricted, you need money badly and though you might hold your body cheap, that's not true of your emotions."

A shadow crossed Tyler's face as he tensed and drew into himself. d.a.m.n, I've p.i.s.sed him off.

"Thirty thousand's not f.u.c.king cheap and why do you think I need money so badly?"

He'd earned more than that in one deal today. "You let yourself get tied up, gagged and put on display for payment."

Tyler scowled. "How do you know I did it for money?"

Because Wilson had followed him and listened to his conversation with a guy in a smart suit, but it was a reasonable guess that Tyler had been paid, given his reaction.

"You told me you weren't into that scene," Haris said. "I saw you were way out of your comfort zone. Why do it if not for money?"

"Well, I guess because I'm a wh.o.r.e," Tyler said in a quiet voice. "You're right. I'll do anything for money. I have done anything for money. Why shouldn't I do you for money? h.e.l.l, I'd suck the d.i.c.k of every guy in here if I was paid enough, with an audience if they paid too. But no one gets access to the parts of me I keep private. So don't think you're going to know me, to understand me. It won't happen. You're buying my body not my life."

Tyler's vehemence amused him but he didn't let it show. Seemed they were both private people with pasts they wanted to keep hidden, but Haris was an expert at digging out the truth and equally expert at keeping secrets. Tyler's reaction had told him there was something in his history he didn't want anyone to know. It was like baring his neck in front of a vampire. Haris couldn't resist biting.

"This isn't going to work," Tyler mumbled. "We're going to p.i.s.s each other off."

"Then we can have fun making up. I'm prepared to take the risk." He took a deep breath. "But I don't want to force you into this. If you want, I'll rip up the contract and you can walk away."

When Tyler didn't answer, Haris's stomach clenched. s.h.i.t. He was supposed to be an expert in reading people. Had he f.u.c.ked up?

"I...I don't want to...disappoint you," Tyler muttered.

Haris's heart ached. Underneath Tyler's armor, lay someone vulnerable, someone who'd been badly hurt.

"Okay. One night," Haris said. "If it doesn't work, you don't like me, I don't like you, you walk away and we forget the whole thing." f.u.c.k, did I sound desperate?

When Tyler nodded, Haris breathed out.

"Good. Ready to go? Or do you want dessert?" Please say no.

"No."

Haris took out his phone. "Wilson, we're leaving now. We'll be on the street in five. Straight home." He ended the call.

"Your chauffeur?"

"My valet, cook, chauffeur and anything else I want him to be." He laughed as Tyler frowned. "Not that. He's straight. Come on." He threw a handful of notes on the table and rose to his feet.

His c.o.c.k was behaving itself for the time being, but excitement rampaged through his veins like a frisky puppy. They collected their coats and took the elevator to the ground floor. Haris liked that Tyler was careful not to brush against him. He hoped it was for the same reason as him, that one touch might ignite a fire no amount of water could put out. He already wanted to f.u.c.k him where he stood.

Wilson was waiting in the car at the point he'd dropped him off and he clicked open the rear door. Haris gestured Tyler to climb in first. The security screen was already up.

They sat apart, Tyler looking out of the window, fingers twisting a stud on his jacket while Haris watched him, having a hard time not drooling. The wary look on Tyler's face turned him on as effectively as a smile, as did the hard angles of his cheekbones, the smudges under his eyes, his long, thick eyelashes. He liked that he was a fraction taller than Tyler. He weighed more than him, a medium build as opposed to Tyler's slender one. Haris worked hard at honing his body and he suspected Tyler's perfection came without effort.