Chapter 3

Robin wasn't in the mood this evening. He was tired from a three-day party and had spent several hours in meetings about an up-and-coming actor he was backing. A lovely specimen, had no gag reflex and barely needed a finger in him to be ready to fuck. Robin was bored of him already. No one kept his interest for long, and he doubted anybody would.

"Why so sour?" Dorian asked. There was no mistaking how attractive he was, with a chiselled jaw, dark hair and smouldering eyes no human could emulate—the perfect Hollywood A-lister, and very grateful and knew he wouldn't be where he was today if it hadn't been for Robin. Not to mention he was great in bed. Dorian was the closest thing he'd ever had to a boyfriend, but he'd never crossed into the full relationship zone, Dorian a bit too clingy and Robin wasn't interested in more.

"Tired. I'm flying back to the UK in a few hours and I'm not feeling the club this evening." Tiredness wasn't enough of an excuse but it was the only one he had. He should be flying high, the club was lively and there were big parties of at least two movie stars going on, plus the swathes of influencers, producers and other big shots, all wanting to say they were friends with Robin Flint.

Dorian moved to stand behind him, shifting just enough so his tail uncurled and he wrapped it around Robin's middle as he sat on a high stool. He nuzzled into Robin's neck. "Let me find a way to take your mind off whatever's bothering you."

He removed Dorian's tail. "Not tonight."

"Come on, Robin. You know how good we are together." Dorian always pushed, overstepped and tried to make more of things than he should.

"I said no." He slid off his stool and knocked back his drink. "I've things to do. I'll send you a message when I'm back from the UK."

Robin didn't let Dorian pull him closer, and his dragon mesmer hadn't worked on him in years. He headed out of the club, a car on standby, and when he arrived at his apartment he spotted his bags packed ready for his departure. Ben was holding a party and Robin would be glad to be away from LA for a few weeks and the new Dark Earl of Crofton was an excellent host. He poured and knocked back a glass of blood, a rare Slovenian 45, that had been left out for him, and ran through in his head the list of his personal items he still needed to collect when his mobile beeped. It was from Claude, his sire and the current Dark Viscount Whetford.

Claude: When you land, come directly to Fairbanks. It's time.

He couldn't hide from himself the real reason he was so unsettled, had been on tenterhooks for months as the seventy-fifth year had passed. The date seared in his memory, even though nothing had appeared to mark the milestone.

Robin: Is he there?

Claude: No, but his father is. James wants the initial meetings and additional negotiations to be held in the fae realm and says he has a way to ensure your safe travel.

He should have expected it. Simon was likely to have been kept cosseted and safe, he would be na?ve and virginal and easy to manipulate. Something Robin was very good at doing, and he was banking on it to ensure there would be no expectation they would be a monogamous couple. One day he still had the hope he would be happy. Find the one who haunted his dreams.

The car whisked him to the airport, his private plane waiting. Leaving LA wasn't the drain he'd been expecting, perhaps he was becoming bored of his lifestyle, the endless excess and constant beauty had been amazing at first, but as the decades rolled on it seemed that only the faces and fashions changed and all the rest remained the same. It had made him rich beyond most people's wildest fantasies, influential as any politician, and it kept his larder well-stocked. He wanted for nothing, or at least that was what he told himself.

His high tolerance for daylight served him well, and unlike many of his breed, he could withstand the midday sun's rays for at least an hour without any negative effect and for longer if he were willing to be subjected to a bit of charring. It meant he didn't have to limit his schedules and so did not have to worry about when his plane would land. He dozed a little on the flight, worked on some important documents and gave himself time to reflect on what was facing him when he returned to the UK. What would Simon be like now? Ben had teased him once about marrying an old man but the fae didn't age in that way. He was curious, a pretty man on his arm would not hurt his reputation, maybe Simon had bucked the trend and didn't possess any of the usual fae characteristics since he wasn't a normal fae. One thing was for certain, he'd find out soon enough. Too soon for his liking.

Fairbanks was the seat of the Dark Viscount Whetford, and although Robin hadn't spent much time there in recent decades, he had a fondness for it and it was the nearest thing to what he considered a home. His apartment in LA, and the ones he owned in several other cities, were merely places to entertain and rest. Fairbanks was somewhere he could relax with no one demanding anything from him. Still, this visit was different, he had a duty to fulfil. Claude was in his study when he arrived, and he wasn't alone. James, Dark Earl of MacLove, was with him. "Ah, Robin, you're here. Perfect timing as we've just hammered out what you will need to discuss with Simon."

James offered his hand, which was warmer than most vampires. "No need to look so worried. All parties want a mutual best outcome for those involved."

Robin took a seat. He'd half expected Jack Webb to be present for legal advice. "I'm sure that's the case, but I had thought our legal friend might be here."

"Mr Webb had to leave for another meeting, but he'll make himself available as needed," Claude said, and his tone suggested he didn't appreciate the comment.

Robin turned his attention back to James. "Claude mentioned that you'd want me to come to the fae realm."

"If you wouldn't mind. Simon has spent some time at the castle but he's mainly been with his fellow fae, his studies were best conducted by those whose magic would complement his own. With you being an older, more experienced man, I thought you wouldn't consider it as losing the home advantage."

He didn't care, as long as the right conversations were had, and he would ensure his own needs were met. "I hear that not everyone can travel easily to the fae world."

"Our portals work for fae physiology, my own vampire side caused some issues at one time, and so my wife and I have developed a way to use them. A simple enough piece of magic, if you know how. I can cast a basic spell and then you'd need a small top-up each time you use one."

"James has assured me and Sebastian that there'd be no issue. Liam Cartwright has personally vouched for your safety so you've nothing to worry about on that score."

Another possible exit blocked. "Very well. Then I am agreeable."

"Excellent." James slapped his thighs and stood. "Then there is no time like the present."

He hadn't expected to be rushed into this. "So soon? I have only just arrived home."

"You've had seventy-five years to be ready, Robin. Now is the time," James said.

He looked to Claude for direction. "Robin, it is an informal meeting between you and Simon, just the two of you."

"And a royal bodyguard," added James. "As chaperone."

" Chaperone ?" Robin parroted.

James smirked. "Simon is an attractive young man. There have been several who have tried to court him, and no doubt you will be equally enthralled, so to ensure he remains virginal until your wedding night we have made sure he has a chaperone."

"I am capable of restraining myself." He should be offended but then if Simon was such a beauty he was only flesh and blood. "I won't do anything that would risk the terms of the contract."

"Yerial will see to that."

The name lanced through him. He must have misheard. " Yerial ?"

"Yes, Simon's bodyguard. Has been for nigh on sixty years. He'll collect you in the future, once I've done the first casting."

Could fate be so cruel? Or could he be over-reaching and Yerial was a common name for the fae? He was lost for words and didn't object when James began to cast. He'd experienced magic, even had a couple of memorable occasions when he'd participated in an interesting sexually charged game or two with a warlock that had livened up a dull mid-summer evening one year, but this was different. It felt familiar, and helpful rather than trickery or had been applied for the caster's benefit. If pushed, he would describe the sensation as like warm drizzle but with none of the saturation and his skin tingled with a residual afterglow once James had finished.

"Ready to meet your future husband? Or rather meet him again, albeit an adult version than a baby."

What he wanted was to see Yerial, but Simon had to be his priority. If this bodyguard was his Yerial then he'd have to find a way to keep him without risking the contract. He'd spent so much of his time negotiating terms for other people, he could do this for himself.