Read Online Max and the Prince by R. J. Scott - Free Book Online

the door again and turned to face Lucien.
    “You’re sure?”
    Any idea of telling Lucien about the letter disappeared at
seeing the look of anxiety in Lucien’s expression.
    “I’m sure.”
    “You don’t look sure.”
    Lucien took a few more steps down and joined him in the
hall. “What did you hear?”
    “Kids,” Max said.
    Max could list the emotions he saw in Lucien: nerves, fear,
moving on to acceptance, then dismissal. “Okay,” Lucien said. “If you think
so.”
    He turned to leave the hall, but Max stopped him with a
strong grip to his arm. He didn’t want Lucien to do that, to take the fear and
put it in a box, he wanted Lucien to feel he didn’t have to fear at all if Max
was here.
    “There’s nothing to worry about,” he reassured Lucien.
    Lucien nodded slightly. “Okay.”
    For the longest time they stared at each other. Max could lose
himself in the dark depths of Lucien’s eyes. All Max wanted to do was lean in
and kiss Lucien, to gather him close and promise him he’d be safe and that
nothing would hurt him.
    “Will you let go?” Lucien asked with a hint of a smile on
his face.
    “Huh?” Max asked, then realized what he was doing and
released Lucien’s arm. “Sorry.”
    “I’m making toast. You want some?”
    “I’ll be back down in a second.” He was up and around the
corner on the first landing opening the envelope, and any momentary flash of
attraction disappeared when he read the words. Good luck at the meet
tonight. I’ll be thinking about you .
    He followed the same procedure with this letter as the last
and opened his laptop to access the surveillance files. He had a whole night to
get through, from just before eleven when he and Lucien went to bed, to just
after six in the morning. He fast forwarded to get an overview, and there it
was, the image of someone walking up to the house and posting the envelope
through the letter box. Time stamped at oh five twenty, it didn’t give up
anything else. Whoever it was—tall, skinny, fitted coat, hat pulled low over
his or her face—wasn’t easily identifiable.
    Maybe Ross would know who to send this to. He emailed the
office with details, then sat back on the edge of the bed. This was someone
playing, someone who had insinuated themselves into a life that was nothing to
do with them.
    There was nothing overtly sinister about the message. But… “I’ll
be thinking about you,” sounded concerned. Maybe a wannabe lover? Tommy the
kisser or Ed the government guy? Something about this wasn’t sitting right. The
letters Lucien had received before these, the ones from the now-dead OS had been
rambling and mental, then these letters were concerned missives. What did that
mean? Did Lucien have a benevolent watcher who was going to kill anyone who
upset Lucien? Was this some kind of sick game?
    “Ready to go?” Lucien said from the door. He held out a
plate of toast, which Max took readily.
    “Sorry, I had to check in with the office.” He gestured at
his laptop.
    “Has something happened?”
    Max shook his head and concentrated on the toast dripping
with butter. “Just the usual emails.”
    “Nothing new?”
    “No.”
    Lucien showed one small moment of concern, then covered it
with a shrug of indifference.
    “C’mon, we’re late.”
    That morning’s practice was more a relaxing session of
stretching and long slow swims getting ready for tonight. Max could even keep
up with Lucien, which in itself was a feat worthy of praise. He hoped to hell
his reserve position tonight was nothing more than that.
    Kev caught them as they were leaving. Max instinctively put
his arm around Lucien.
    “Can I have a word with you?” Kev looked down at his feet.
    “Of course,” Lucien said.
    “Alone?”
    Max tightened his grip, but Lucien looked at him and nodded
that it was okay. He backed away enough to be just out of hearing distance, but
still close enough if Kev tried anything.
    The two of them talked. Lucien at one point looked