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Adam had a gay companion.

Adam’s plan had most definitely backfired.

And Adam had opened a whole new can of worms.

He had a feeling sleep would be a long time coming.

* * * * * *

Paul leaned against the wall at the foot of the stairs, trying to slow down his racing heart and his breathing, but each time Adam’s words rang out in his head, loud and clear.

Oh, my God.
His dick was still hard.
What the fuck? What the actual fuck was professional about
any
of that?
Part of him got Adam, understood why, a man alone for so long with no intimacy…

Paul gulped in air.

‘And what if I decide to spank you for that remark
?’

That was the man’s game.

Is that how he got the other companions to leave?
Paul recalled asking himself that very question the day of his interview. His heart pounded. He had never been a quitter, but why the hell did he have to push back at the man?

‘And what if I decide to spank you for that remark
?’

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Heat surged through him. Memories. Sounds. Groans. Cries.

Like I needed to be reminded of that place.

It was only a second or two later that the realization hit him.

He
wanted
to be reminded.

Chapter Eight

Paul was changing the sheets on Adam’s bed. Now that Adam was going to sleep in it, he figured it was a good idea. Who knew when the bed had last been slept in? Except he wasn’t really thinking about clean sheets. His head was still numb from the previous night’s revelation.

Adam was gay. Adam was fucking
gay
.

It was all Paul had thought about, long into the night when sleep eluded him. That dark-haired, lean, gorgeous bastard was gay, with a good-sized dash of kink, by the sound of it. And hadn’t
that
made his cock fill? The thought of Adam’s hand landing on his arse had sent a shiver trickling down his spine. How would it feel? Would it burn? Sting?

Of course, the likelihood was that he’d never know. Not after the way he’d reacted. And certainly not, judging by Adam’s behavior that morning.

Adam wasn’t talking.

Paul had made him breakfast, brought him coffee, served lunch, but was getting the silent treatment in return.

Paul knew he had no one to blame but himself. Once Caroline had left, and Adam had turned back into a recluse, Paul had seen the writing on the wall. Whatever points he’d scored over his predecessors had vanished, and he was left with the sinking feeling his days as a companion were numbered. There was nothing concrete he could point to, only a general uneasiness and an uncomfortable feeling in his belly. Paul might have been useful to him, but once Adam had found his feet around the house, Paul was surplus to requirements.

He still couldn’t believe the tack Adam had taken. Once he’d got his head around the whole
Oh my fucking God
he’s gay
concept, Paul quickly shoved that aside.
No wonder his predecessors had left in such a hurry. Adam had obviously decided to play dirty.
And if that’s the way he wants to play it…

It had been funny to watch Adam’s jaw drop, but the humor had faded pretty quickly when he’d been told to get out. He gazed at his lovely room.

Better get packing
.

“What the fuck now?”

Adam’s cry of exasperation rose up from the hall below. Paul dashed out of his room and launched himself down the stairs. “What’s wrong?” Before Adam could reply, however, he heard it—the sound of a car engine switching off. He reached the door as it opened.

Apparently, Caroline still had a key. She strolled into the hallway like she owned it. “Good morning.”

Adam stood in the doorway to the library, clothed in a pair of sweatpants and a black T-shirt. “Caroline, back so soon?” His words were uttered calmly, but Paul saw the clenched hands, the tautness of his posture.

“I’m so sorry for dropping by unannounced,” she began, her bright, cheerful smile belying her statement, “but as soon as I woke up this morning, I had a feeling that all was not well here, and I had to come over.” She gave Paul a cursory glance before returning her attention to Adam. “Adam, can we talk? Alone, please?”

Adam shrugged. “Sure.” He stepped aside and gestured for her to enter the library. “Paul,” he said before following her, “Can you make us some coffee?”

“Of course.” Paul went to the kitchen and got the machine ready. His stomach, already sensitive, was in knots. He wanted Caroline to
go
. He was still Adam’s employee, albeit one who was anticipating being given his marching orders. And that meant following Adam’s instructions.

He could hear the low hum of voices and wondered what on earth was so important to bring Caroline out to the house again. He tried not to listen, but he couldn’t help noticing that Adam had become quieter and quieter.

He hurriedly put together a tray for the coffee, and carried it through the hall to the library. Surprisingly, the door was ajar. He walked quietly into the room and placed the tray on the table beside the couch. Caroline swiveled her head to stare at him, frowning, but turned back to look in Adam’s direction.

Adam sat in his chair by the window, leaning forward, elbows on his knees, his head in his hands. This was nothing like the man who’d teased him the previous night. Paul was swallowed up by a cold rush of rage.
What the fuck has she said to him?

“Thank you, Paul. That will be all.”

Paul bristled at her presumption. This was Adam’s house, he was Adam’s employee. But it was Caroline who had hired him. He gave a polite nod and retreated. He got as far as the door before Caroline started speaking again.

“You know I’m right,” she was saying in a gentle voice. “You have to face facts, Adam. You can’t spend your days rattling around in this big house. It’s time to move on. Your career as a writer is over.”

One look at Adam’s pallor was all it took to loosen the brakes on Paul’s mouth.
Oh no, you don’t, lady. You do
not
dump that shit all over him.

“Excuse me for interrupting, but can I ask why?”

Caroline twisted slowly to face him. Her eyes were cold. “I’d have thought that was obvious. And this conversation has noth—”

“Oh, you mean because he’s blind?” Paul snorted. “Stephen Hawking wrote one of the most brilliant books of our time, and he can’t move or speak… I’d say Adam has more going for him than Hawking, right?”

Adam lifted his chin and looked in Paul’s direction. “Go on,” he said slowly.

“I think you’ve said quite enough.” Caroline’s expression was grim.

Paul ignored her and walked over to where Adam sat. “Okay, you can’t type anymore, but there’s all kinds of software these days. Software to read aloud what you write. Software to turn speech into type. New software being developed every day.” He clenched his fists at his sides, willing Adam to hear him.

Adam’s lips parted, and in that moment Paul wished he could see his employer’s eyes. “This is ridiculous.” Adam sagged into his chair. “I can’t even use a phone, let alone a computer. It… it feels too soon.”

“Of course it’s too soon,” Caroline butted in, eyes flashing. “You’re still recovering. But you shouldn’t be alone, Adam. You need people around you, people in the same situation as you.”

“Isn’t that commonly called the blind leading the blind?” Paul knew he sounded harsh, but this woman was irritating him with her attitude.
Adam needs people who will encourage him to push at his boundaries, not people who want him to stagnate.
And if she wouldn’t help him, Paul would, even if the bastard had tried to put him off working for him. Heat rushed through him.

Adam was in need of a champion.

“I think we’ve heard enough from you.” Caroline was on her feet, her face flushed.

“Adam.” Paul crouched down beside his chair. “I agree with you. Using software might be beyond what you think you can cope with right now, but there’ll come a day when it won’t seem so daunting. And until that day, well, there
are
other, more old-fashioned alternatives, y’know?”
Come on, Adam, think. Think.

“Such as?” Caroline’s gaze was withering. Adam, on the other hand, had become so still, he could have been frozen.

Yeah, that’s it, you know what I’m talking about, don’t you?

“My typing isn’t bad, and my spelling and grammar were always good at school,” Paul said, his breathing quickening. “I can use Word, unless you’d prefer me to use some more suitable software.”

Silence. He could almost imagine Adam’s brain cogitating, working it through. One look at Caroline, however, revealed plenty. That determined expression told him she was gearing up to shut Paul’s idea down.
Uh uh, Caroline. Don’t you do it. This is Adam’s business, not yours.

“I—”

“Thank you for visiting, Caroline,” Adam said, rising to his feet. Paul copied him, nearly stumbling into him in his haste. He breathed easier. Adam seemed to have sloughed off the heaviness that had weighed him down. “I’m sure you have a lot of things planned for your day. I know the tea shop must be busy, especially on a Saturday. I do appreciate you taking time away from your business to see me though because you were worried.”

Caroline stared at him, lips parted in an expression of surprise. “Well, yes, but—”

“Paul, would you see my sister to the door?”

“Certainly.” But before he did that, there was one thing he had to do. “Before you go, Mrs Lambton, perhaps you could help me out with a problem.” Paul knew he was pushing it, but he was feeling reckless.
They can only hang you once, right?

Caroline picked up her handbag and stared at him. There was no mistaking the air of hostility that clung to her. “What is it?” she said brusquely.

“There seem to be very few of Adam’s personal possessions around the house, and he tells me you were in charge of packing up his belongings when he moved here. Have you any idea where I might find them?” When her lips narrowed, he added, “I’m sure you’d want Adam to feel more settled. Surely having his things around him will help achieve that?”

She stiffened, and Paul couldn’t help giving a small internal yell of triumph. Put it like that, in front of Adam, and she had no choice but to respond.

“All the boxes from the move, with the exception of Adam’s clothes and toiletries, were placed up in the attic,” she said with slow deliberation. “And if that’s all, I’ll get back to the tea shop. Adam’s right, Saturday is always a hectic day, but I felt I had to come.”

“I appreciate it, Caroline.” Adam smiled.

Caroline gave Paul one last baleful stare before she marched out of the room. Paul followed her to the front door, holding it open for her. She paused on the threshold and regarded him steadily, those blue eyes glacial. “Paul,” she said at last, “I think you’re forgetting who pays you.”

Paul returned her gaze. “No, I haven’t. Adam pays me. You hired me to look after Adam, and that’s exactly what I’m doing.” Though for how much longer, he had no idea.

She pressed her lips together, as though holding back what she badly wanted to say. Caroline gave him an abrupt nod and then marched stiffly over to her car. He watched her reverse and drive up the steep driveway, waiting until she’d closed the gate after her before closing the front door. Paul walked across the hallway with reluctant feet.

It was time to face the music.

Before he reached it, Adam popped his head around the library door, said, “Paul, come in here, please,” and disappeared from sight.

Shit. Here we go.

Paul stepped into the sunny room to find Adam sitting in his chair, only this time he sat up straight, his gaze fixed on Paul’s location.

“Adam, I—”

“Were you serious about wanting to type up my books?”

That stopped him dead in his tracks. “Uh, yes?”

Adam relaxed into his armchair. “I’ve made no bones about the fact that I don’t want a companion.” Paul remained silent and Adam continued. “But if we go down this route, you would no longer be my companion. You’d be my Personal Assistant, and that’s a completely different state of affairs. I’d expect you to type up a manuscript from dictated notes, use my reference books, search for quotations, send emails… ” He paused. “Think you can do all that?”

The temptation to snort was huge. Paul wasn’t exactly an unqualified moron. He restrained himself and replied politely, “Yes, sir.” The honoric felt… right.
Especially since he threatened to spank the shit out of me.

“And from now on, you live here.”

That, Paul hadn’t expected. “Oh, okay.” He thought about it. “Will I still be expected to prepare meals, clean, shop, et cetera?”

“For the moment, yes.” Adam’s jaw set. “However, I want to get to the stage where I am able to cook for myself.”

That didn’t surprise him in the least. He was starting to realize Adam was all about the control.

“Are you happy to continue under those conditions?”

Paul stared at Adam, his heart pounding. He’d expected their conversation of the previous night to have been mentioned. Was Adam going to let it go? Paul swallowed a bitter pill. He didn’t want it mentioned either.

Maybe that’s for the best. Just put it behind us and move forward. You’re gay, I’m gay, but so what?

“Yes, I’m happy with that.”

Adam nodded. “By the way, make the most of your night off at this party.” He smiled. “Tomorrow you’re going to go up into the attic and bring down my boxes. I imagine that should keep you busy for a while.”

There was definite smirking going on, but Paul couldn’t have cared less. What mattered was that Adam sounded himself again, not the battered, browbeaten man who’d sat there with his head in his hands. He had no idea what Caroline had said to her brother, but he hoped to God she didn’t say it again. Because if she did, the gloves were coming off.

Okay, so he’d gained a heavier workload and a different job title. Paul was under no illusions. What had really changed was Adam’s perception of him, and if it made Adam happier to think of him as an assistant, Paul could live with that.