Nash's Niche (Behind Closed Doors) by Raven McAllan Read Free Book Online Page A

expected them to be about anytime soon, but he should set a good example.
    Nash moved his head cautiously and scanned the landing. The only thing available as leverage was the newel post or several door handles. For no reason he could think of he crawled to the door at the left hand side, and began to pull himself up. His nose was a mere inch or so from the wood. He'd never really scanned the grain before but the tiny pattern delighted him. It was something to marvel over when his brain decided to work once more.
    Eventually, with more effort than he felt it deserved, Nash stood upright. The last time he had expended so much energy was when he was balls deep inside Madame Felice. He smiled reminiscently. She had given him a night to remember. It had saddened him, that after he had fallen into an exhausted sleep with her in his arms, he awoke to find himself cuddling a pillow. On questioning his staff, no one would admit to seeing any hint of his visitor. She had, to all intents and purposes, vanished into thin air. It had taken the tiny heart inked on his groin to make him believe it himself. Those hours spent with her had been amazing. How one woman—in a mask no less—could tie him in knots for months was way beyond him. Especially as their time together had been so short: five hours give or take and over half of one of those hours they had spent having matching tattoos. At least it meant he'd recognize her again.  As long as she is naked and I can see her cunt and that telltale sign. Sadly Nash had long accepted that was the least likely scenario ever.
    The door he had decided on was the one he'd locked earlier. He searched his mind to try and remember why he had done that. Then he remembered, it had been open. Someone had wanted his brandy … but he thought he'd left it there? Or was it something else? He had brought his stud books up, and some of the latest progeny were valuable. In his bosky state Nash accepted he couldn't fathom the mystery out, or have the skill to insert a key into a lock. But he intended to. It took four tries to look for the key in his pocket and realize it wasn't there but in the lock, and a further five to work out how to turn it. He thrust his tongue between his teeth and concentrated. Then the key turned, he lifted the latch and all but fell into the room as the door swung open.
    "Ha, thought you could beat me , oh door? Not a chance, I am skilled and," he hiccupped. "And … where's it gone?" He addressed the empty room with a question. "Where have you hidden it? I want that scarf. It re-reminds me of, oh hell." He put his hand to his head. No matter what the scarf, or lack of the scarf reminded him, he needed to lie down. That meant on his bed, where there was room, and not papers.
    Sadly, it also meant navigating another closed door. That was the one into his bedchamber and it wouldn't be locked. His hand provided a helpful tool to anchor him to the wall as he shuffled the few yards to his goal.
    It took him longer than he'd ever thought it was possible, but finally he lifted the latch and stumbled over the threshold of his bedroom. The scent of lavender was stronger now. Nash sniffed. Damn! Why can't I remember who or what I associate with that smell?
    The room was shadowed, even though his shutters and curtains were open. Nash half remembered he had given his valet the evening off, and told him not to wait up. He'd known the evening would stretch into the small hours . It was so rarely he and Randall had a chance to get together without anyone else around. Now faced with the need to remove his pantaloons he wondered whether it had been a wise move. Not that Ericht usually undressed him per se, but he had been known to help on the odd occasion that Nash was what Ericht called diplomatically, 'under the weather'.
    Nash swayed around the doorjamb and rocked on his heels as he decided how best to get to the bed.
    "One," He lifted his leg ridiculously high and placed it with exaggerated care