Pack of Lies

  “Not a problem. Have a good day.” He gave a brief nod, moved back to collect his own luggage, then exited the train. Taking a deep breath, he prepared himself for the insanity that was London. He could handle it—he was big and strong enough to take a few knocks, as well as rudeness, but he didn’t like it. Probably because he was so used to living, working and socializing in a small village—crowds were not something he encountered very often. And even when he did, they weren’t like this.

  When he was ready, he walked along the slippery-tiled platform toward the exit barriers, inserted his ticket and made his way down to the ground floor of the station. Once there, he bought a Tube ticket at one of the self-service machines, then headed into the Underground area. He’d already used his phone to find the quickest and easiest route to his destination, so he passed the maps without a second glance and strode to the relevant place and got on the next train that arrived.

  Before too long he emerged onto the London streets and retrieved his phone so he could pull up a map that would get him to the conference hotel. The day had grown dull and a light drizzle permeated the air, but Isaac didn’t mind. He quite liked it—it was cooling and refreshing after the crowded stickiness of the Underground. As he waited for the map to load, he tilted his head back, allowing the droplets to land on his face and neck.

  His indulgence was interrupted in spectacular style when someone careened into his back. Isaac was shunted forward, his bag shoved off his shoulder and onto the damp pavement. Thankfully his laptop was packed on top of his clothes in the bag, so it should be unscathed. Only his superior reflexes saved his phone from being flung onto the ground, probably to meet its death—or a cracked screen, anyway.

  “Hey,” Isaac said, spinning ’round to meet his assailant. But by the time he’d said the word, it had already been drowned out by the other person’s “Shit, I’m so, so sorry.”

  Isaac was facing a man who looked to be the same age as him—well, the age he told people he was. He wore jeans and a shirt, no tie, and carried a large bag similar to Isaac’s and clutched a smartphone. “It’s totally my fault—I wasn’t looking where I was going. I was looking at this bloody thing,” he brandished his phone, “to find out where I’m supposed to be going. I’m really sorry. Are you all right?”

  Isaac let him finish before attempting to respond. By now he was smirking. There had been no harm done, and he’d quickly come to the conclusion that the stranger was cute. Very cute. He shrugged. “Don’t worry about it—these things happen. I was probably standing in a stupid place. I’m trying to find where I’m going too!” He held up his phone, then reached down to pick up his bag before the wetness from the pavement soaked up into the contents.

  “No, it really was my fault. Sorry again. So where are you headed?”

  Isaac gave the name of the hotel and the other man’s face lit up. “You’re here for the medical conference?”

  Nodding, Isaac couldn’t help feeling surprised that the attractive stranger was heading to the same conference as him. He didn’t look like a doctor, not one bit. He had black hair, which was curly, totally wild, big blue eyes and cheekbones you could slice cheese on. After a beat, he mentally scolded himself, both for checking the guy out and for being so judgmental about his looks and profession not going together.

  “Cool. Shall we attempt to find it together? I’m Aaron, by the way.”

  Isaac took the hand that was offered and shook it. “Isaac. And yeah, that would be great. Two heads are better than one and all that!”

  Shouldering his bag, he looked at his phone once more, seeing that the map had now loaded up, putting them less than a street away from their destination. “Okay,” he said, glancing back up at Aaron, “I think I know where we need to go.”

  “Uh, okay. More than happy to take your word for it, as map reading is definitely not my strong point.”

  With that the two men fell into step together, making their way in the direction that Isaac’s phone pointed them. After a few minutes they stepped into the lobby of the conference hotel and made for the reception desk.

  “After you,” Aaron said, indicating that Isaac should go in front. “I crashed into you, then you saved me from a fruitless wander of London’s streets in the rain. It’s the least I can do.”

  With a smile and a murmur of thanks, Isaac moved up to the desk and the pretty young girl behind it. “Hi, I’m here to check in. I’m one of the delegates for the conference. Name’s Isaac Adams.”

  “Thank you, sir,” the girl said, beaming at him. “I’ll just get that taken care of for you.” She put her fingers to the keyboard in front of her, typing quickly then pausing as she seemingly found what she was looking for. Another couple of button presses and she produced a key card for Isaac, slipped it into a folder emblazoned with his room number and handed it over. “Here’s your key card, Mr. Adams. Anything you want, you just charge to the room. Food, drinks, items from the shop. We already have your credit card on file, so when you check out you just need to sign for your purchases and we’ll deduct the amount from your card.”

  Taking the folder, Isaac nodded. “Fantastic, thank you very much. Do you know where we have to be for the conference tomorrow?”

  “There should already be a folder in your room with the full schedule and map of the hotel. If not, please call down directly to reception and we can have one sent up.”

  “Great, thanks.” He turned away from the desk and caught Aaron’s eye. “Your turn, mate. See you around tomorrow.”

  “Hang on,” the other man said, stopping him from walking away. “I was wondering if you wanted to grab a drink and something to eat this evening?”

  “Uh…” Isaac had been planning on room service, a long shower and an early night. The long journey had made him weary, and he wanted to make sure he was rested for the conference—there would be a lot to learn, a lot to take in, and he didn’t want to miss out. But something made him say otherwise. “Yeah, all right. Meet you in the restaurant at seven?”

  “Sounds good. See you then.”

  Smiling, Isaac turned and headed directly for the bank of lifts, then pressed the call button. He still had time for a shower, albeit not a long one. But it would do—and he’d definitely have to get into some smarter clothes. Checking into a hotel in crappy clothes was one thing, but using their bar and restaurant dressed that way was another matter altogether.

  A ping announced the arrival of the lift, and he stepped into the car, pressed the button for his floor and stood back as the machinery did its job and carried him up to his level. Exiting into the corridor, he peered at the sign on the wall opposite, which told him which room numbers were in which direction, then followed the relevant arrow.

  He was in his room and had dumped his bag within minutes. Spotting the folder on his bedside table, he checked that it was indeed the details for the conference before unpacking his bag and putting away his clothes and shoes—with the exception of the ones he was going to wear after his shower. He stuffed the holdall into the bottom of the wardrobe, crossed over to the window and drew the curtains, then got undressed. Then, grabbing his wash bag from the bed, he made for the bathroom and showered and brushed his teeth in record time. He’d shave in the morning.

  Emerging into the bedroom, he tugged the towel from around his waist and dried most of the water from his hair before scrubbing at his body. Once dry, he dropped the towel on the floor and used his toiletries before getting dressed. A quick blast with the supplied hairdryer got some more of the dampness out of his locks. He dragged a comb through them, then declared himself done. He put his dirty washing and towel away, collected his phone and keycard and headed out of his room and back toward the lift. He’d be a few minutes early, but it didn’t matter. He’d be able to scope out his surroundings a little before his new friend arrived.

  As it happened, that wasn’t the case. When he stepped into the restaurant, he saw that Aaron was already there. His mop of curls looked damp, and when I
saac got close enough he could smell shampoo—something fruity yet masculine. Yum.

  “Hey,” he said, stepping around the table to take his place opposite Aaron. “You beat me.”

  “Yeah,” Aaron said with a grin, “I don’t take long to shower and change.”

  “I didn’t think I did, either, but apparently I could be faster.”

  “We all have our skills. Okay, shall we order drinks first? I have to say I need one—all that rushing around London has made me thirsty.”

  “Yeah, it has that effect on me too. Maybe a pitcher of water for that and something a little stronger afterward?”

  “Sounds like a plan.” Aaron signaled the waiter, who also brought menus. He disappeared to get their pitcher, leaving them to decide what they wanted to eat.

  “Oh my goodness,” Isaac said after reading a few lines. “How am I supposed to decide? This all sounds delicious. I want one of everything.”

  Aaron chuckled, a deep yet joyful sound that sent a jolt to Isaac’s gut. “You’re right, it does. At least we’re here tomorrow night too, so we’ll be able to get two of these meals in before we go back to reality.”

  “That’s true.” They both fell silent for a while as they contemplated their choices, and by the time the waiter came back with a carafe of iced water and two glasses, they’d narrowed down what they wanted considerably.

  “Okay,” Aaron said, twisting his face into a pondering expression. “I don’t want a starter, thanks. But for the main course I’m teetering between two, so I’m going to go ahead and have the Beef Wellington, please. Write it down quick before I change my mind.” His tone was light, polite, and he was grinning, but the waiter didn’t seem to notice. He simply scribbled down what Aaron had asked for, then turned to Isaac.

  “No starter for me either, thanks. And, um, I’ll have the fillet steak, please, with the blue cheese sauce and sautéed potatoes. Thanks.” Given the waiter’s non-reaction to Aaron’s comment, he didn’t even think about joking around. He handed the menu back with a smile, then raised an eyebrow at the man’s retreating back and turned to the other man. “Someone’s had a sense of humor failure, haven’t they?”

  Sniggering, Aaron nodded. “He bloody has, hasn’t he? A sense of humor failure and a stick shoved up his arse. I know this is a nice hotel, but come on, you still have to employ humans, not robots. Good customer service. He reminds me a little bit of one of the receptionists at my surgery. Right stick in the mud, she is.”

  The conversation took a turn for the amusing, with a discussion about their grumpiest, craziest and funniest colleagues and patients, and their chatting went off on several tangents before being brought to a halt by the return of the humorless waiter. He placed their meals down in front of them and asked if he could help them with anything else.

  “Yes please,” Isaac said. “I’d like a beer. Whatever’s on tap and recommended.”

  “Make that two, thanks.”

  The man gave a mock bow before heading in the direction of the bar to get their drinks. The two doctors watched him leave before turning to each other and sniggering. “Christ, he hates us, doesn’t he?” Aaron said, picking up his cutlery.

  “I don’t care if he does,” Isaac said. “We’ve been nice and polite—the ideal restaurant patrons. I don’t know what his problem is. And I’m not going to waste any time on it either. My fillet steak is much more important.”

  “As is my Beef Wellington. Yeah, let’s dig in.”

  They did just that, and the space between them was filled with small moans of pleasure and muttered compliments.

  “Good God,” Aaron said. “This is so good. The chef is an absolute genius.”

  Isaac smiled as he remembered a similar conversation between himself and Nathaniel, talking about the chef at the Miners. Then the smile died on his lips. Damn, why did he have to go and think about Nathaniel now? He was having a delicious dinner with fun company and his brain had presented him with thoughts of a man he knew he could not have. How was that fair?

  Aaron spoke again as the waiter returned to their table with two glasses on a silver tray. “Ah, here’s our beer. Thank you.” Picking up his drink, he raised it to Isaac. “Let’s have a toast. To a delicious meal, which will hopefully be followed by a delicious dessert, and to a weekend that’s supposed to be work but will no doubt be a lot of fun too.”

  Isaac raised his glass. “Yeah. To all that.” His voice wasn’t quite as enthusiastic as it could have been, because his brain had now gone into overdrive. Was he mistaken or was there a mischievous, flirtatious look in the other man’s eyes?

  And if there was, should he do something about it?

  Chapter Twelve

  Isaac and Aaron fell silent, digging into their meals with gusto and exchanging the occasional glance and smile as they enjoyed their food and sipped at their drinks. Before long their plates were empty and they were sitting back in their chairs, rubbing their bellies and commenting on how delicious the dishes had been.

  “Luckily,” Aaron said, reaching for his pint, “that portion was just right, so I’ve still got room for dessert. You?”

  “Hmm, I think so. Let’s ask grumpy-guts for the menu and I’ll see if anything takes my fancy.”

  “I hope so.” Aaron met Isaac’s gaze and held it, clearly attempting to emphasize the alternative meaning of his words.

  Isaac stared right back, not sure whether to drag the other man up to his room and get him naked immediately or whether to run away screaming. He was attracted to him, there was no doubt about it, and he’d already ascertained that the man lived miles and miles from Eyam, so there was no danger of any lasting entanglement if they happened to hook up. And it had been so damn long since he’d last been with anyone…what the hell was stopping him?

  Aaron was busy trying to get the waiter’s attention, so Isaac looked at him openly as he thought through his reservations. Although his brain seemed loath to admit it, it was clearly something to do with Nathaniel. Isaac had to hold back a derisive snort. There was no way that he and Nathaniel could even sleep together, much less anything else. It just wasn’t a good idea, for so many reasons it was ridiculous. So why did he feel some kind of loyalty to the man?

  Downing the rest of his beer, Isaac made a choice. He’d already decided to put the crush on Nathaniel out of his mind, move on. Occupying himself with someone else in the meantime was as good a way as any to do this—and Aaron was a willing partner, it seemed. So if Aaron wanted to have sex with him tonight, even tomorrow as well, Isaac was definitely up for it. He needed the release, both physically and mentally, then he could go back home and get on with his life.

  That sorted out, he smiled at the waiter as he handed over the dessert menu, and quickly read through the options. The sooner they decided what they wanted, the sooner they could eat their next course, pay up and skedaddle. Making his choice, he slapped the menu down on the table with more force than was necessary, causing Aaron to look questioningly at him.

  “Sorry,” Isaac said, abashed. “Didn’t mean to do that.”

  “You’ve decided then?”

  “Yup.”

  “Me too. I’ll get grump back.” Waving again, Aaron pointed to Isaac when the waiter arrived. “You go first.”

  “Uh, okay. I’ll have the waffles, please. Plenty of chocolate sauce.”

  The waiter made a note. “Very good, sir. And for you?” He turned to Aaron.

  “The sticky toffee pudding.”

  “Excellent. Thank you, gentlemen, I’ll get that order put in for you straight away.” He took their menus and dashed away, his back straighter than ever and his expression to match.

  Aaron shook his head. “God, I hope he’s not here again at breakfast time. I’m not sure I can cope with him when I’m half asleep.”

  Grinning, Isaac replied, “No, nor me. Let’s hope someone else is on that shift!”

  They continued chatting as they waited for their desserts, though it was clear it was just to
fill the silence. There was a tension in the air, thick, expectant, and Isaac knew he didn’t have long to back out now. They were already creeping toward the line of no return, despite the fact they were nowhere near a bed, not even touching. It was odd, but really sexy at the same time. He wondered if perhaps Aaron was lonely too, and that was why, with so much in common and having been thrown into the same place at the same time, they were so ready to take advantage of the fact.

  Quiet reigned again as their desserts were placed in front of them and they immediately started eating them. The muttered compliments and contented sounds were even more frequent during the course, and Isaac figured that Aaron, like him, had a sweet tooth. Munching on the chocolatey goodness, he hoped his nerves wouldn’t give out on him. He wanted Aaron, he really did, but he hadn’t had nearly enough to drink to make him bold—because of his supernatural metabolism, alcohol didn’t affect him as readily as it did humans. Therefore a pint of beer was not going to help him to loosen up, not one little bit.

  Finishing his waffles, Isaac asked, “Shall we take some wine upstairs with us?”

  Appearing a little startled, Aaron hastily gulped down his mouthful, nodding. “Er, yeah, if you want. I’m not fussy when it comes to wine, so just order whatever you like. Red or white, I don’t mind.”

  “Okay.” Isaac waved for the waiter again and, when he arrived, said, “A bottle of white wine, please. Whatever you recommend, and two glasses. We’re going to take it upstairs. And if you could charge everything from this table to my room, that would be wonderful.”

  “Very well.” The man headed off to get the wine and glasses.

  “Hey,” Aaron said, having just finished his pudding, “what did you do that for?”

  Shrugging, Isaac replied, “Why not? It’s just easier, isn’t it? You can get the meal tomorrow—if you want to join me then too.” The truth was, he wasn’t entirely sure why he’d done it either. He hadn’t been looking to impress or embarrass the other man. Maybe he just wanted to be nice, to look after him or something. Who knew? It was too late in any case.