© Ava March

Arsen opened a door. “Come along,” he repeated as he stepped inside the room. “And shut the door.”

Henry did as instructed. The click of the door closing seemed unnaturally loud. His fingers brushed the brass key in the lock below the knob. So tempting to turn it, to lock Arsen inside. With him. A shiver raced up his spine. He bit the inside of his cheek, reining in the lust. If he pounced on his host, Arsen would eject him from the house for certain.

Forcing his hand to his side, he turned from the door and glanced about. Shelves upon shelves of books. A large mahogany desk. A comfortable brown leather couch and a few armchairs. The furniture substantial, built for a man. He hated those spindly-legged things that dominated drawing rooms.

The study was large, but not oversized. It didn't have that museum quality of the formal rooms of the house but appeared lived in. A few papers and a deck of playing cards were on the desk. An open book graced the squat table in front of the couch. This must be Arsen's private study. And at least one servant had known Arsen's destination this evening, for a recently stoked fire burned in the fireplace opposite the couch and the three-armed silver candelabra on the corner of the desk was lit.

The clink of glass on glass pulled his attention to the far corner of the room. Holding a cut crystal glass in each hand, Arsen stepped from the shadows.

“Have a seat,” he said, indicating the armchairs in front of the desk.

His expertly tailored jacket hung open, exposing the embroidered black silk waistcoat. The gold chain of his pocket watch glinted in the candlelight. Arsen had unbuttoned his jacket. It meant nothing. Nothing. Henry swallowed hard and crossed the room. His fingers brushed Arsen's as he took the proffered glass. A rush of sensation traveled up his arm and radiated across his chest. “Thank-you,” he said gruffly as he settled into the chair.

Arsen took a sip then set down his glass and leaned a hip against the desk. He was so close Henry need only lean forward to place a hand on his knee. Arsen shrugged off his black jacket and tossed it onto the chair next to Henry's.

Henry could just make out the golden hue of Arsen's skin beneath the white linen shirtsleeves. Trying not to stare, he brought his glass to his lips.

“More to your liking?” Arsen asked.

Henry sucked in a startled breath then coughed, whiskey burning his throat, his lungs.

“I take it you don't care for whiskey?”

Mortified, Henry struggled to stop coughing. His eyes watered. Once the fit abated, he held up a hand. “Sorry, Somerville. I do. Care for whiskey, that is. Good stuff.” He took a long swallow to emphasize his point.

Arsen tipped his head. “Thought you could use a real drink.” His golden forelock fell over his brow, skimming his long lashes, as he glanced down. His elegant fingers brushed the neat stack of cards at his hip. “Care to play a hand of cards?”

Henry smirked. “No, I don't need your money tonight.”

Arsen's head snapped up. “Pardon?”

“Do you honestly believe I haven't noticed? Anytime there's more than twenty-five quid on the table, you let me win.”

“Are you accusing me of cheating? Saying I lack honor?” Arsen said, bristling with affront.

“Well, yes, you do manipulate the game in my favor. But don't misunderstand. I don't believe you lack honor. Rather the opposite.”

A renowned gambler, Arsen almost always came out the victor when he played against his peers. Or more specifically, against those who could afford to lose or those who needed a lesson in what it felt like to lose. But against those less fortunate, those like Henry who counted every farthing, Arsen conveniently lost. It was just one of many traits that endeared him to Henry.

A scowl marred Arsen's brow. He appeared ready to argue then he shrugged.

Henry let out a relieved breath. “In any case, you needn't spend the evening entertaining me. I don't want to keep you from your guests.”

Arsen rolled his eyes. “My guests are sufficiently occupied. They won't miss me. And I certainly don't miss them. All I can say is thank God they are leaving on the morrow.”

Henry took a sip of whiskey. While this was the first time he had been invited to Somerville Park, one couldn't move about the ton without hearing the whispered tales of the numerous gatherings Arsen had hosted over the years. So why did Arsen sound as if playing host was an unwanted chore? “But you invited them here?”

“Yes. However, they have served their purpose and can now leave. And none of them better think of lingering. If need be, I will haul them into their carriages myself in the morning.”

Arsen needn't worry about hauling Henry into his carriage. At the first light of dawn, he would be on his way, traveling toward London and away from Somerville Park – the site of the most tortuous week of his life.

His pose one of casual nonchalance, Arsen crossed his white shirted arms over his broad chest. It took all Henry's willpower not to squirm in his chair under the force of Arsen's probing deep green stare.

“Elly wasn't to your liking?”

“No,” Henry answered automatically. Then suspicion formed. He leaned forward and glared at Arsen. “You arranged for her to follow me around all week?”

Arsen dismissed Henry's indignation with a wave of his hand. “Don't get offended, Shaw. She thinks highly of you. Has a weakness for big strapping men, hence why she didn't protest when I nudged her in your direction.”

Frowning, Henry settled back in the chair and took a long sip of his whiskey. It did not sit well, not well at all, that Arsen had pushed a woman at him. Clearly, Arsen had no idea the direction of Henry's interest. He should take comfort in it – it meant he'd been successful in hiding his preference for men from the gentlemen of the ton. But it also meant Arsen didn't know he was the object of Henry's deepest desires. That hollow feeling invaded his stomach. Ate its way into his chest. Gnawed viciously at his heart. Damn, did unrequited love hurt.

“Are you a virgin, Shaw?”

Henry went utterly still. He felt the color leach from his face then flare across his cheeks in a rush of prickling heat. “N-N-No. No! Certainly not.” Virgins didn't want to do to Lord Somerville what Henry wanted to do.

Arsen rubbed a hand across his jaw. “Yet you've been quite the monk this past week. If I'm not mistaken, you are my only guest who did not partake. Your devotion is admirable.”

“My-my what?”

“Devotion,” Arsen replied with a casual lift of one shoulder. “Your loyalty. Unlike every other guest at Somerville Park, you alone have remained true to…” Arsen paused.

Henry's heart leapt into his throat. You. I have remained true to you.

“…whoever it is you are involved with.”

He fought back the wince. “I'm not involved with anyone,” he admitted. “I was, at one point, but that relationship is fortunately over.”

Markus. If that man hadn't been a lesson in how quickly infatuation could turn sour, nothing was. Yet here Henry sat, besotted once again. But it was different this time, he assured himself. Arsen had honor and would never take advantage of another. Arsen was also different from Markus in another very important area. Henry was now certain Arsen's interests did not extend to other men. Not once in the entire week had Henry seen Arsen spare more than a casual glance at another man. At least he needn't worry the relationship would end badly, for it could never begin.

Henry shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “Have you made a decision yet?”

“Regarding what?”

“The next resident of Tellford House,” Henry clarified, referring to the immense townhouse on the edge of Mayfair and notable for the fact it housed every one of Arsen's past mistresses.

Arsen flicked a piece of lint off his black waistcoat. “Possibly.”

“The pale blonde?”

“Cassandra?” Arsen grimaced. “No.”

“Why not? She's beautiful.” Keep your damn mouth shut.

Arsen hesitated. “That she is. But she's a spoiled creature. Greedy. Self-centered. She hasn't got a loyal bone in her body. All she wants is to live in my house and have unlimited access to my bank accounts. I wouldn't trust her with either. And she would leave me as soon as someone wealthier came along. Doubt she'd even offer to give me a parting thank-you fuck.”

That crude word from Arsen's lips made Henry's cock jump to attention. Eager. Ready. Henry eyed the large mahogany desk. All he needed was that word in the right context and he'd bend over the desk without hesitation, offer Arsen what the beautiful Cassandra would not. The image slammed into his head. So vivid, so powerful, he could feel Arsen's cock pounding his ass.

Copyright © 2008 Ava March

Samhain Publishing : Amazon Kindle

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Rating: 5 Angels and a Recommended Read!
"Object of His Desire proves that Ava March knows how to incorporate a gay romance into a regency setting to produce a fantastic story. ... Her books contain an element of whit, appealing characters, and love-laced sensual sex scenes." Reviewed by NeNe for Fallen Angels Reviews

Just Erotic Romance Reviews, 5 Stars!
"...a fabulously written book...[Ms. March's] historical knowledge was exceptional and her plot and characters were amazing!" Reviewed by Marcy Arbitman for Just Erotic Romance Reviews

Literary Nymphs, 5 nymphs
"The love scenes are tantalizing and incredibly sensual. Object of His Desire is an exceptionally pleasurable story that I very much enjoyed." Reviewed by Chocolate Minx for Literary Nymphs

Elisa Rolle
"...an erotic night that rivals with the best historical erotic scene I read (gay and not)." Reviewed by Elisa Rolle

Speak Its Name, 4 stars
"Ms March...forces the reader to care about the characters by getting deeply into their point of view and making them ride the emotions with them...Definitely worth a read." Reviewed by Erastes for Speak Its Name

Mrs. Giggles, 75
"Admit that you like the hot male-to-male action and you will be loving every minute..." Reviewed by Mrs. Giggles

Rainbow Reviews, 4 stars
"...March offers yet another engaging and steamy encounter between two handsome and charming men set in historical England...I can easy recommend this book to anyone wanting a scorching hot erotica with a satisfying romance." Reviewed by Kassa for Rainbow Reviews

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