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Business. Forcibly, he reminded himself of the reason why he was there, the young man’s discreet knock on Basile’s door drawing his thoughts away from sex.

“Come in.” Basile’s voice wrapped around Emil and compelled him forward.

He stepped into the captain’s quarters, a low room under the slope of the deck, a large bed in the corner, shutters open on the windows to reveal the inky water beyond. The vessel swayed back and forth. Emil stepped into the room and firmly into Basile’s sanctuary. The vampire’s scent surrounded him, as salty and clean as the fresh ocean air. The young man closed the door behind him, leaving Emil alone with the man he still loved.

“Thank you for seeing me,” Emil said. “I apologize for the lack of notice.”

Basile waved his hand dismissively. Light gleamed on his blue-black hair. A bit of ribbon held it away from his face and Emil’s fingers itched to run through the silken strands. A dark blue waistcoat highlighted the darkness of Basile’s hair, as did the matching trousers. His white shirt was unbuttoned, revealing a large expanse of his hairless chest. His flat pectorals invited touch, and Emil remembered long nights doing just that, tracing the contours and planes of Basile’s body with fingers and tongue.

Basile remained quiet. Emil stumbled, acutely feeling his far younger age. His former lover was at least two hundred years old, and such experience tended to widen the gulf between them, especially when he was mortal and Basile hadn’t been for quite some time. Emil opened his mouth to speak and closed it quickly. With a small shake of his head, he clenched and unclenched his fingers. He forced his shoulders to relax.

“The years have treated you kindly.” Basile turned to face Emil, his gaze sweeping over the insignia on Emil’s chest and the slightly visible uniform. If he noticed Emil’s erection he gave no sign, instead, looked dismissively away. “I thought I made my views on our acquaintance clear.” He pursed his lips.

“Things have changed since then, and you know I wouldn’t seek you out if I didn’t have a good reason,” Emil countered. He sensed the walls Basile built around himself. Ten years ago Emil’d carefully torn them down, emotional brick by emotional brick. The vampire had grieved for his long-time human lover who’d succumbed to illness and had vowed never to get involved with a mortal ever again. Until Emil.

“Your reasons are not my reasons. I’ve had a long night. Say your piece and then leave. I have no desire to reopen old wounds.” Basile rubbed the back of his hand across his eyes.

Emil’s heart leapt. He drew in a lungful of Basile’s scent, filled his pores, his very spirit with the essence of the man he still loved. A grin twitched the corners of his lips, and he relaxed his hands. “Neither do I. I wouldn’t be here except our need is vital. We need ships and men to help us with the blockade of the Confederate states. Your ship, a French gunboat, one of the first and finest models, would be a great asset to us. We need the Commerce de Souverain. We need you.” Emil hadn’t intended to blurt out his mission. He hoped to warm Basile to it, to maybe talk about old times, about the change Emil had undergone. If Basile had noticed Emil’s transformation he gave no sign.

Basile stared at Emil, his eyes blank. Lips drawn tight, he turned away and strode to the windows. Curling his fingers around the sill, he stared over the glassy smooth waters of the Atlantic. His back was ramrod straight, shoulders square, though Emil sensed the heavy weight settled on them.

Emil stepped forward before he could stop himself. His feet carried him across the cabin, past the heavy oak desk in the corner that was older than the vampire, past the bed rumpled from sleep and redolent with memories. He stopped behind Basile and rested his hand on the man’s shoulder. “I’m sorry. I wouldn’t have come had we any choice. But when I found out you were in port… We need you, Basile. The Union needs you.”