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    The Heat of the Moment
    The Heat of the Moment
    The Heat of the Moment
    Ebook54 pages40 minutes

    The Heat of the Moment

    By Ruby Moone

    4.5/5

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    About this ebook

    Milo Callan is convinced the disease that ravaged his legs and left him in a wheelchair as a child has damaged something inside him because, as he grows to adulthood, he only becomes aroused by men. His secluded life means he’s convinced he is alone in this until the day Robert Grange, his temporary valet, rescues him from his life inside and takes him into the summer heat, changing his life forever beneath the shade of an ancient tree.

    Overwhelmed, confused, and helplessly in love, Milo struggles to deal with his feelings and pushes Robert away time after time.

    When Robert can bear it no longer, he decides to leave. Beside himself with grief, can Milo find the strength to believe in himself and accept their love? Will he be able to convince Robert to stay, or has he pushed Robert away for the last time?
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherJMS Books LLC
    Release dateSep 17, 2016
    ISBN9781634861878
    The Heat of the Moment
    Author

    Ruby Moone

    Ruby lives in the north west of England. In school she was told she would never get anywhere if she didn’t stop daydreaming. Eventually she started to write down the daydreams, and voilà! The beautiful men in her head came to life. Ruby writes Regency and contemporary gay romance. For more information, visit rubymoone.com.

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      Book preview

      The Heat of the Moment - Ruby Moone

      6

      Chapter 1

      Sunshine. Bright, golden sunshine. Milo leaned back in his chair and craned his neck to look out of the bedroom window. It was the third day in a row that the sun was shining from a cloudless sky and again, Porter had left his chair pointing at the door. He grabbed the bell and rang it loudly. Nothing. He rang again and again, and eventually his valet came into the room, face impassive.

      You rang for me?

      Milo clenched his teeth. I’ve been ringing for an age. Where have you been? Move my chair and put me by the window.

      Porter sighed. A muscle jumped in his jaw.

      Milo tensed and grabbed at the blanket covering his useless legs when Porter dragged the chair, almost tipping it. Watch out, you idiot, he snapped.

      Porter made a snarling sound in his throat that was the only warning Milo had of what was about to happen. Porter grabbed the handles of the chair, tipped it forward on its large wheels, and pushed hard until Milo was upended onto the floor.

      You are the most ungrateful, nasty tempered little bastard it has been my misfortune to encounter. He dropped the chair back onto its wheels, leaving Milo stunned and helpless. Move your own chair. I resign. Forthwith.

      Milo watched as he strode away, slamming the door behind him, and then curled into a ball as fury, frustration, and humiliation washed over him.

      * * * *

      It was hours before anyone came. Long enough for the sun to have moved out of the window. His entire body hurt. Just breathe. Just breathe.

      Mr. Callan? Oh my God, sir, sir, what happened?

      Milo stared at the elderly man hovering over him. My valet decided to tender his resignation.

      And left you like this?

      And left me like this. I don’t think you will be able to lift me. Milo rolled so that he could sit up. He could have moved and dragged himself up onto the bed, but the will to do so had gone. It was easier to lie down and accept it. Curl up and accept it. He wanted to curl up again.

      Don’t you worry, sir, the new man started yesterday. He’s a strapping young chap he will have you up in a trice.

      What new man?

      The one we agreed you need because I’m getting older.

      Milo had a vague recollection that they were getting someone in to look after the grounds and do the heavy work now that Brownlow was in his sixties.

      Perhaps we could prevail on him to add valet to his list of duties, Milo muttered as he dragged himself to prop up by the bed.

      Now there’s a suggestion, Brownlow said with a smile. Sit tight, you’ll be right as a trivet in no time. He disappeared.

      Milo laid his head against the mattress. The summer sky was still blue. Breath taking, glorious blue. He wanted to go outside so much he ached with it, could taste it.

      In here, Mr. Grange.

      Milo looked up waiting to see the next person that he would have to inflict himself on, and his breath stopped in his throat at the sight of the man who walked through the door. Tall. So tall he had to stoop to get through. When he straightened and gave a short bow Milo was vaguely aware that Brownlow was talking, but all Milo could do was stare. The man was young, he’d wager younger than his own six and twenty years, but broad in the shoulder. Dark curling hair framed a smiling face and eyes so blue they looked as though they had been cut from the sky outside that enticed him so. He dragged his gaze away, suddenly conscious that he was staring.

      Shall we get you up? the man said.

      Milo stared

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