Chapter Four

ALEX

Margaret had given us strict instructions to be on time for Sunday breakfast. She also told us not to turn up in pyjamas, glaring at me as she'd said it. I didn't know what the problem was—that had been one time.

Apparently, Sunday breakfast was a big thing for the Fortescues. From everything I'd seen so far, I'd half-expected a private chef to be cooking full English breakfasts to order.Instead, the sideboard was groaning under a selection of pastries, cheeses and hams.

I helped myself and took a seat at the long dining table that dominated the room. The rest of my family was already there, along with James Fortescue and his wife, Anna. Ella was also at the table, fidgeting as if it was the last place she wanted to be.

"Nate!"

It was the sort of welcome I'd expect from a golden retriever after their owner had been at work all day, not for someone she'd seen only the night before. Ella was practically vibrating with excitement as the dragon from last night smiled slightly at her before scanning the room as if looking for someone. He looked—well, not like shit because he was too attractive for that, but his eyes looked bruised and his face held a strain I hadn't noticed last night.

His gaze met mine, and I realised I was staring at him. I nodded slightly—not sure how else to greet a guy I'd grabbed, snogged, and then left without a word—and turned my attention back to my food.

Nate had no choice but to sit beside Ella, who was talking to him long before he reached the table with his loaded plate. "Daddy knows the Old Theatre Royal trustees, so I've messaged them, and we can have a look around this morning. It can't be this afternoon as they've got something on, but it shouldn't take long anyway because it's different from how it was in Jane Austen's time."

"That's terrific. Thank you, Ella." I couldn't be sure, but that looked like a deer-in-headlights thing he had going on.

"Mind if I tag along? I'd love to see more of Bath," I said. Nothing to do with the slight huskiness in Nate's voice that had my cock taking an immediate interest and everything to do with Margeret's instruction to get to know him.

Nate looked a bit surprised at my rudeness, but inclined his head politely. "You'd be welcome, of course."

Ella, on the other hand… I was the recipient of a death glare from her. "I don't know your name," she said sharply.

"Alex Teague. Alexander, if you want to go full formal." I smiled at her. She obviously thought I was something to be wiped off the sole of her shoe, but if I was going to spend the morning with her, it would be more comfortable to be on speaking terms.

She didn't bother answering, though Nate nodded at me. "Nate Mortimer," he said.

I almost choked. He was a Mortimer? Looking at him with that knowledge, I could suddenly see it. He was dressed like the Fortescues, his apparently casual clothes somehow announcing how expensive they were. It would explain why he was so comfortable with Ella. The two richest, most powerful dragon families probably hung out together all the time.

I'd thought he was hot. His kiss had burned like a supernova. But he was just another banker, making his fortune out of other people's hard work. It was an effort to keep the smile on my face.

Ella was looking between us. "You mean you two were practically humping one another, and you didn't even exchange names?" She sighed, loudly and dramatically. "Honestly, men."

"Ella." Anna Fortescue's voice was soft as she chided her daughter, but when I glanced at her, her eyes were icy. They usually were. I'd decided this wasn't so much a family as a collection of sociopaths that shared the same last name. Except for Ella. I hadn't yet figured her out.

I wouldn't do so anytime soon because I found myself trailing behind them all the way to the theatre. Nate tried at first to include me in the conversation, but Ella wasn't relinquishing her position beside him, and there wasn't space on the pavement for the three of us to walk side by side.

At least that allowed me to study Nate Mortimer more closely from behind, a view well worth taking in. He was wearing a brown sheepskin flying jacket, and tan chinos that highlighted his round, firm arse. It was a shame I hadn't done more than kiss him last night.

At the theatre, an elderly man was waiting for us. Ella swept past without a word as he held the door open. Nate and I both thanked him like normal people, Nate adding that he hoped we hadn't brought him out specially on a Sunday morning.

If I didn't know who Nate was, I'd have thought that was thoughtful of him. Knowing he was a Mortimer, all it meant was that he was smooth and used to manipulating people. Even so, it worked, because the guy nodded and told us to come and find him if we wanted anything.

"Is there a reason you're interested in an empty old theatre?" I asked Nate while Ella was busy taking off her coat.

"I'm researching for a book I intend to write."

"One about making millions off the backs of others in a banking empire, I'm guessing," I said, promptly wanting to kick myself as his eyebrows raised. I was supposed to be getting close to him, not letting him know what I thought about his lifestyle. "I mean, what's it about?"

"Nate's going to write a best-seller about Jane Austen's torrid love affair with the actor Robert Elliston," Ella said, sliding her arm through Nate's to press her cheek against his shoulder.

"I didn't know Jane Austen had an affair," I said.

"She didn't," Nate said, then paused. "Well, she probably didn't. Though I suppose it's not beyond the bounds of possibility if she was extraordinarily discreet about it. For my purposes, all that matters is that she's known to have relished Elliston's performances. She was so impressed by him that she worried he might leave Bath when he inherited some money. Anyway, Ella—you know this place. Lead on."

We spent the next hour or so wandering around, exploring thoroughly.

"Do you think Jane Austen was a theatre groupie?" I asked, as we walked into one of the dressing rooms.

Nate's face lit with humour. Ella's, however, was full of scorn. "Don't you know anything about her?"

I didn't care what she thought of me. Nate was still grinning, and it was a good look on him.

"I'm going to have to put that in the book," he said. "I should call it Greasepaint and Blowjobs: The Secret Life of Jane Austen."

"Honestly." Ella rolled her eyes and stomped off.

That gave me a chance to finally talk to Nate. "Sorry about last night," I lied through my teeth. "It seemed the best thing to do in the heat of the moment."

He smiled at me, a different sort of smile from his amused grin, and it sent all kinds of messages to my cock. "Are you really sorry?" he asked, and for the first time, I understood what people meant when they said someone purred when speaking. "I'm not."

"Maybe we should try out something for your book," I suggested. "Get some of the groupie logistics nailed down."

"I hope it's more than logistics that are going to be nailed," he murmured, moving forward, an almost hypnotic sway to his stride.

"Nate!" Ella's shout echoed down the corridor outside. "You need to look at this."

The moment was well and truly broken, though my cock still hadn't got the memo.

"Coming," he yelled back, and then winced. "Or not," he added, with a rueful sideways glance at me before heading out of the room.

I followed, enjoying the sight of his arse once again. I didn't know what to make of Nate Mortimer. My dick knew what it wanted to make of him, and that was a sweating, panting, ruined mess. But I hadn't spent enough time with him yet to work out who he was. When Charlie had cornered him at the bar, he'd been…vulnerable? Something other than a smooth entitled banker, anyway. I'd warmed to him when we'd joked about Jane Austen giving blowjobs. He would be easy to like. And just now, he'd definitely been open to getting laid.

But he was a banker,so I had no interest in puzzling him out. I simply needed to get him talking so I could find out why one of the Mortimer family had been poking about in James Fortescue's study.