Benedict sighed, gulped, sighed again, then finally opened the door to his room and stepped inside.

He ducked just in time to miss the glass Rae lobbed at his head, wincing at the sound of expensive crystal shattering against equally expensive rosewood paneling. “Rae—”

Another glass, and this one he had to dive to the floor to avoid.

He was a thousand times grateful Rae had a penchant for throwing, not shooting. The very thought made him cold with fear.


“Now is not the time for your stupid little endearments,” Rae said furiously. “I told you once I do. Not. Share.”

Benedict frowned and picked himself up off the floor. “I had no intention of sharing myself with anyone. If I’d known Lord F was going to walk up and kiss me like that, I would have vacated the premises faster than your temper flares.” He realized the stupidity of saying that a moment too late, and barely avoided the book Rae pitched at him.

He waited a minute more — but Rae now seemed content just to stand and glare. He crossed the room quickly, before Rae could think of throwing the small table he stood beside. He all but ran, lunging forward at the last and catching Rae up in his arms — making certain Rae’s were pinned.

Then he bent his head and kissed him hard, deep, possessively. “They’re not stupid little endearments, you great bloody fool. I should think the fact that I would choose to come here knowing full well you were mad and would be throwing things at me, instead of going with Lord F, proves just how much I love you, Rae.”

Rae opened his mouth, then closed it again. Slowly the angry tension eased from his body. “If he tries it again, I’m going to kill him. You’re mine.”

Benedict smiled and brushed a soft kiss across his mouth. “Yes, Hunter. You caught me, you’re stuck with me.”