Free Becomes the Rose by Pelaam Page B

with relish, Tarin felt glad he’d stumbled on the tiny hamlet. As he had not been able to truly see it before, he would explore in the morning; unless a very long walk lay ahead. He would ask Martha, who was looking after him so well, whether there was anyone who might be able to drive him at least part-way to the nearest town if he gave them petrol money.
    “Good evening. I hope you are enjoying Martha’s hospitality?”
    Tarin stared at the man who had addressed him. Part of his brain wondered if there was something in the water that made the men of the town so attractive. He wore his light brown hair long, but tied in a ponytail high on the crown of his head. With a similar build to the blond Tarin had met earlier, maybe a little taller and broader, he was clean-shaven, but his eyes… Tarin was sure he could drown in the deep blue, oceanic depths.
    “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
    Tarin found the newcomer’s voice soft and melodic, but he heard strength beneath the surface. It was the voice of a natural leader, Tarin decided.
    It was also as sexy as hell.
    “No problem.” Tarin smiled.
    “Anton met him first, sir,” Martha offered as she replaced the emptied dinner plate with a bowl of strewed apple dusted with cinnamon.
    “Indeed. My name is Boyce, Boyce French. Welcome.”
    “I’m Tarin Medway. Thank you. Your guest house is very nice. I love the antique environment. Nice touch.”
    “I’m glad you like it,” Boyce said, and Tarin got the impression the pleasure was genuine. “Do you play chess?” Boyce asked.
    “Actually, yes I do.” Tarin smiled.
    “Good. We don’t have a bar of any kind. However, I do have some excellent brandy and a chess board that I will probably have to dust to use. My home is not far. It would be my pleasure to have you spend the night in my home as my personal guest in exchange for a game or two of chess.”
    “ I … that would be … yes , yes I ’ d like that ,” Tarin said , caught off-guard. His libido cheered the unexpected turn of events , and Tarin silently willed it to behave. He did not sleep with anyone on a first da te . But there ’ s always tomorrow , an inner voice reminded.
    “Excellent. I will get one of my le… one of my other servants to bring my car ‘round and we can put your stuff in and drive over. The car does not get enough use these days. Finish your meal while I make the necessary arrangements.”
    It did not take Tarin long to finish his meal, or have his meagre belongings packed. He was walked to the door by Martha who then bade him a goodnight.
    It was with a gasp of surprise and delight that Tarin looked at Boyce’s car. It was a pristine 1920’s Rolls Royce Phantom. In the driver’s seat was a blond of Herculean proportions, who Tarin took to be the chauffeur.
    “She’s a beauty,” he said, his voice slightly hoarse. He loved vintage cars, and this one was immaculate.
    “I’ve hardly used her since I got her,” Boyce said softly. “I’m glad you like her.”
    Hesitating, with his hand hovering over the car’s chassis, Tarin looked over his shoulder for permission. For a second, the azure orbs seemed to be looking at him with such warmth and affection that Tarin almost forgot to breathe.
    “You may drive her if you wish,” Boyce said. “Flynn will not mind,” he added, looking away.
    “Thanks,” Tarin said.
    He was certain Boyce was about to say more, but the older man’s attention had diverted to the blond Tarin met earlier. Once again he had appeared silently, but now he was flanked by two other men that Tarin took an immediate dislike and distrust to. They looked mean and cruel and, suddenly, so did the blond with them, as if a mask or a veneer had been stripped away.
    “Surely you’re not going to monopolise all our unexpected guest’s time, Boyce?” the blond asked.
    “ Tarin is going to be staying in my home , Anton ,” Boyce said , his voice increasing in timbre and taking on a menacing