Read Online Bone Idol by Paige Turner - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Paige Turner
Tags: Romance
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Albert thought, wretched and confused.
Then he nodded.
They worked quickly and almost in silence to fasten the squares of waxed canvas over the exposed skeleton, but it was not a companionable silence this time. The air between them was charged with electricity and they were both very, very careful not to allow their hands to touch.
But, as they worked, Albert’s thoughts became clearer. He hadn’t done anything wrong.
Henry had kissed him —twice now. Henry wanted him , he must. It was only his sense of propriety making him hold back. And Albert wasn’t going to let that happen.
It was then that the skies opened and the rain came down.
Chapter Nine
A rolling boom of thunder and a whipping gust of wind that came from nowhere was all the warning they had before the air took on an eerie, washed-out, purple-grey colour and a violent rain lashed down, the drops drumming and dancing against the parched red stone.
Within moments they were soaked to the skin. Albert looked at Henry’s startled, affronted expression, at the rainwater beading his eyelashes and dripping from his neatly groomed moustache, and his natural exuberance got the better of him. He burst into helpless peals of laughter.
After a few moments, Henry joined in. Laughter lines creased the corners of his eyes and he clutched his stomach as though trying to hold in his mirth. “Wh—why…” he gasped, in between fits of laughter and gulps for air. “Why…when I’m with you…do I always get w-w-wet?” And he lost his composure again.
Both men sobered as lightning whip-cracked across the sky, coinciding with the rumble-growl of thunder, a sign that the storm was immediately overhead.
“Come on,” said Henry, in that sensible voice of his, though Albert thought his tone still held a touch of amusement. “We need to get to shelter. Your father won’t be pleased if I get you struck by lightning.”
His father wouldn’t be pleased if he knew they had been kissing, thought Albert. But he wasn’t sure how much he cared.
Hoisting their packs, heavy with rainwater, onto their shoulders, they began to half stumble, half run through the torrential downpour. The wind whipped their words away as they breathlessly shouted laughing encouragement to one another.
The rain came down so hard it stung Albert’s face, and the wind stole the breath from his lungs as he stumbled through dust churned into heavy red mud by the storm. His boots and trouser cuffs were caked with the rusty clay, his clothes drenched, and his limbs began to feel heavy as he struggled onwards. Though they must be nearing the camp, he could see barely more than three feet in front of his face. He began to shiver as the ferocious wind, warmish though it was, blew through the soaked, translucent fabric of his shirt, and he wrapped his arms around himself as he stumbled onwards.
Henry trudged beside him, not shivering but holding himself very rigid in the blustery weather.
Albert tripped as his foot caught on a rock he did not see. Henry’s strong hand caught him by the arm. They floundered the rest of the way to the camp together, leaning against the wind, feet sliding in the red mud, wet through and increasingly exhausted.
Henry’s tent was closer than Albert’s, at the edge of the camp, and they bumbled through the heavy, wet canvas flap and into the relative warmth and dryness of the interior.
It was a large tent, high enough for a man to stand up in, and with a cot on one side and a couple of orange crates arranged as a makeshift chair and desk on the other. The rain drummed thunderously on the canvas roof. Henry collapsed gratefully onto the orange-crate chair, and Albert slumped to the floor at his feet. He hung his head, running his hand through his wet curls, and looked up when he heard Henry groan wearily.
“Are you all right?” Henry’s blue eyes, tired-looking, held warmth and concern.
Albert smiled at the usually dapper Henry, slouching filthy and dishevelled on
Then he nodded.
They worked quickly and almost in silence to fasten the squares of waxed canvas over the exposed skeleton, but it was not a companionable silence this time. The air between them was charged with electricity and they were both very, very careful not to allow their hands to touch.
But, as they worked, Albert’s thoughts became clearer. He hadn’t done anything wrong.
Henry had kissed him —twice now. Henry wanted him , he must. It was only his sense of propriety making him hold back. And Albert wasn’t going to let that happen.
It was then that the skies opened and the rain came down.
Chapter Nine
A rolling boom of thunder and a whipping gust of wind that came from nowhere was all the warning they had before the air took on an eerie, washed-out, purple-grey colour and a violent rain lashed down, the drops drumming and dancing against the parched red stone.
Within moments they were soaked to the skin. Albert looked at Henry’s startled, affronted expression, at the rainwater beading his eyelashes and dripping from his neatly groomed moustache, and his natural exuberance got the better of him. He burst into helpless peals of laughter.
After a few moments, Henry joined in. Laughter lines creased the corners of his eyes and he clutched his stomach as though trying to hold in his mirth. “Wh—why…” he gasped, in between fits of laughter and gulps for air. “Why…when I’m with you…do I always get w-w-wet?” And he lost his composure again.
Both men sobered as lightning whip-cracked across the sky, coinciding with the rumble-growl of thunder, a sign that the storm was immediately overhead.
“Come on,” said Henry, in that sensible voice of his, though Albert thought his tone still held a touch of amusement. “We need to get to shelter. Your father won’t be pleased if I get you struck by lightning.”
His father wouldn’t be pleased if he knew they had been kissing, thought Albert. But he wasn’t sure how much he cared.
Hoisting their packs, heavy with rainwater, onto their shoulders, they began to half stumble, half run through the torrential downpour. The wind whipped their words away as they breathlessly shouted laughing encouragement to one another.
The rain came down so hard it stung Albert’s face, and the wind stole the breath from his lungs as he stumbled through dust churned into heavy red mud by the storm. His boots and trouser cuffs were caked with the rusty clay, his clothes drenched, and his limbs began to feel heavy as he struggled onwards. Though they must be nearing the camp, he could see barely more than three feet in front of his face. He began to shiver as the ferocious wind, warmish though it was, blew through the soaked, translucent fabric of his shirt, and he wrapped his arms around himself as he stumbled onwards.
Henry trudged beside him, not shivering but holding himself very rigid in the blustery weather.
Albert tripped as his foot caught on a rock he did not see. Henry’s strong hand caught him by the arm. They floundered the rest of the way to the camp together, leaning against the wind, feet sliding in the red mud, wet through and increasingly exhausted.
Henry’s tent was closer than Albert’s, at the edge of the camp, and they bumbled through the heavy, wet canvas flap and into the relative warmth and dryness of the interior.
It was a large tent, high enough for a man to stand up in, and with a cot on one side and a couple of orange crates arranged as a makeshift chair and desk on the other. The rain drummed thunderously on the canvas roof. Henry collapsed gratefully onto the orange-crate chair, and Albert slumped to the floor at his feet. He hung his head, running his hand through his wet curls, and looked up when he heard Henry groan wearily.
“Are you all right?” Henry’s blue eyes, tired-looking, held warmth and concern.
Albert smiled at the usually dapper Henry, slouching filthy and dishevelled on
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