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“Yes.”
Oliver opened his mouth to say more, but then Mal’ik put his hand to his ear and cocked his head in a way that meant someone was speaking to him, and he turned away from Oliver again. So Oliver shut his mouth with a sigh and downed the rest of his coffee.
A long day indeed.
And a lonely night. Mal’ik came in at the end of the evening to tell him that he would be away for most of the night, dealing with security concerns. Insecurity had risen sharply in Oliver’s chest—surely Mal’ik just didn’t want to stay with him and he was being kind—but then Mal’ik had kissed him bruisingly, once, twice, three times before finally pulling away.
And then he had kissed his forehead again just before opening the door, and Oliver had seen the sincerity in his eyes. And he felt silly. Mal’ik might not always want him, but he certainly wanted him now, and he certainly wasn’t a liar.
So Oliver had gone to bed. Disappointed. And lonely. But not as lonely.
* * *
Dominic and I will be on Carta in two days.
Oliver stared at the message from his father and pinched the bridge of his nose. He hadn’t even gotten out of bed yet, and already the headache was forming. Alistair Turner was a master of layering meaning into terse sentences.
Carta was barely a stone’s throw from Tava, so, Dominic and I will be on Carta in two days actually meant I’ve heard that you’re running into issues on Tava and that your plans are starting to fall apart. You had better not fuck it up and make me regret giving you this chance. Dominic is here with me because he’s actually useful and responsible, and I probably don’t need you anymore at all. I’m coming to watch over you, and I’ll swoop in if I think I have to. You have two days.
Oliver dropped his head back onto his pillow with a sigh.
And then from his brother: I’ll see you soon, little brother. I’m very busy, but maybe we’ll have a chance to catch up.
Which was more bullshit. It was just Dominic making sure he knew how much work their father had entrusted to him and not Oliver.
Oliver let out a little growl and then rolled out of bed. Two days was more than enough time. All he needed was to get Emissary Serihk on his side. The Klah’Eel ministers were easily swayed by the strongest person in the room, so he was done spending his time on them. He already had a meeting with the qesh scheduled for late morning. He’d have a bow on everything in a day and a half.
A hot shower later, his headache was gone, and he was feeling confident again. He was just opening his wardrobe to choose something that said ‘competent but conciliatory and maybe even compassionate’ when he heard the familiar heavy knock on his door and Mal’ik’s voice.
“Turner, I’m coming in.”
Maybe whatever had been concerning Mal’ik yesterday had been resolved and Oliver could go back to chattering at him. He padded into the foyer with a soft white towel wrapped around his waist and then pulled up short.
Mal’ik wasn’t alone. The human man—Patrick Smith—stood beside him, and the man’s eyebrows rose at the sight of Oliver nearly naked in the doorway. Oliver felt heat on the back of his neck and was thankful only Mal’ik would be able to smell his embarrassment. He kept his face neutral, as though he greeted all of his bodyguards in a towel in the morning.
“Well, good morning,” he managed in a smooth voice. “I don’t think we’ve been introduced.”
“No, we haven’t.” Smith did not manage his voice so well. It was a little bit high, and he had splotches of red on his cheeks. “Patrick Smith. I’ll be joining your close protection team with Captain Mal’ik for the next few days.”
Oliver frowned.
Word must have spread of what he and Mal’ik had done. They hadn’t exactly been quiet, and guards had been posted just outside. Guards with a klah’eel’s sense of smell. Was Smith here because they were worried Mal’ik had been compromised?
“Oliver Turner. A pleasure to meet you.” He smiled his fake professional smile at Smith and then looked at Mal’ik. “Captain Mal’ik, may I speak with you alone for a moment?”
Mal’ik nodded and followed him into the bedroom. Oliver shut the door behind them. “Why is he here?” he demanded in a whisper.
“There are some security concerns that a larger team exacerbates.” Mal’ik tilted his head toward Oliver and matched his quiet tone. “I’m shrinking the team for a few days and bringing it closer. I’ve chosen Patrick because I know him better than I know anyone in the world. I trust him with my life and yours.”
Oliver’s eyes widened. Those were heavy words. He wanted to dig more into the relationship between Mal’ik and Patrick, but he didn’t.
“So then it’s not because…” Oliver grimaced as he found himself forced to put words to whatever they were. “Because of what we’re doing?”
“No, Oliver.” Mal’ik smiled softly, and Oliver had the impression he would touch his cheek had it been after the workday instead of before. “It’s not about that at all.”
Oliver nodded tersely and turned away before he gave in to the desire to reach out and touch Mal’ik. He was so close, and Oliver could feel the warmth of his body and the masculine smell of him. But he had an important day ahead—the most important day of his life maybe—and he couldn’t be distracted.
So Oliver went back to his wardrobe and opened it up. In the moment before he dropped his towel to dress, he heard the door open and close and looked over his shoulder to see that Mal’ik had left him. Had given him privacy, Oliver corrected himself.
