by Geneva Lee
I shook my head. “I’m on call.”
“The baby,” he said knowingly. “Clara keeps her phone on all the time.”
“I’m certain Belle appreciates that.”
“Of course, your wife is here nearly every day, or has been for the last week. I imagine she might go into labor here.”
“Is that a problem?” I asked, keeping my tone even. Being near Alexander meant constantly recalculating my position.
“No.” He took a sip thoughtfully before taking the chair opposite mine. “But if she’s here, I’m not certain she needs my best man nannying her.”
“Need I remind you that you owe me?” I said coolly. Alexander did not want me as an enemy. Perhaps, he needed a reminder of that fact.
“I know that, but I can’t say I appreciate you reassigning men on my behalf.” He crossed one leg over the other, unbuttoned his navy jacket and relaxed into the seat.
“Let’s cut the bullshit, shall we?” I offered. “Where’s my father’s gun?”
“In a safe in this very office.” His eyes stayed trained on me. A lesser man might have looked toward wherever this safe was hidden, but, as strained as my relationship to him was, I knew Alexander was no small man. He’d proven time and again that he was willing to go as far as he needed to in order to protect his family. I could respect that.
I simply didn’t have to sacrifice the safety of my own family for his, though.
“Are you sure?”
“Clara told me about the present you received. I checked the gun that night,” he told me. “It’s still loaded, Smith.”
I sucked in a deep breath, wishing I could get that drink after all. For the most part, I’d given up alcohol in recent years, but I couldn’t claim sobriety. Still, I’d managed to keep my drinking mostly to social occasions and not as a form of escape. Now wasn’t the time to change that habit.
“I don’t suppose it's a coincidence,” Alexander admitted. His gaze traveled to the fire where it lingered for an unnaturally long time before he spoke again. “Georgia mentioned that you saw it as connected to MI-18.”
“Don’t you?” I asked.
“I struggle to see anything as unconnected from them these days,” he said bitterly. “To be honest, when I heard you were moving your family to Sussex, I was relieved.”
I blinked, processing this confession. Alexander had seemed cold at best when I’d informed him that I wanted to step away from future investigations. I’d helped him before because losing Clara would have broken parts of my wife that would never heal, and because I sympathized with Alexander’s situation. If it were me, I’d want his help. But we had more to lose than ever before—and I was more than a little surprised to hear that he recognized that.
“But now you’re back in the city,” he continued.
“We aren’t staying.”
“Does your wife know that?” he asked in a soft voice that was uncharacteristically concerned. “Because she seems to be clinging to her life here rather tightly.”
“That will change.”
He inclined his head as though he understood that all too well. “In the meantime, Brex will remain nearby. No one will get past him, but if you do decide—”
“Once we’re out of London, I can handle matters,” I cut him short. Alexander owed me one, and I would call in that favor, but part of starting over meant severing ties.
“It won’t be easy for her,” Alexander warned me. “Clara relies on her. I’ve seen what losing Edward has done to my wife. I imagine she’ll reach out to Belle more, but I’ll do what I can to ease the transition.”
“In the meantime,” Alexander said, rising from his chair, “would you like your father’s gun back?”
I knew what he was asking. It wasn’t a simple offer to return the weapon I’d left in his safekeeping. He was asking how far I was willing to go to protect her. I’d made a choice the day I’d given him that gun. I’d chosen then to believe we’d found our way out of the darkness, but the clouds had returned to block the sun one more. Our eyes locked, an unspoken understanding passing between us. The two of us might not always see eye to eye but we both agreed on one thing. When it came to our wives, we would sacrifice anything to keep them safe.
“Please.”
Alexander moved to his desk, reaching under, his hand hidden from sight. A moment later, a portrait of his father opened slowly. I watched as he opened the safe, which was locked with a biometric sensor. He reached inside and withdrew the handgun. Instead of handing it to me, he pushed open the chamber and took out the copper bullet. He held it up between his thumb and forefinger for me to see.
“A word of advice, this isn’t about him. Whatever happens now. it’s bigger than that. You can’t let the past cloud your judgement. You can’t let ghosts distract you from the real enemy.”
Like he had. He didn’t have to say it. Alexander had trusted the wrong people and nearly lost everything. It was a mistake he didn’t want to see repeated. I nodded, and Alexander slipped the bullet into his own pocket.
“You don’t need that,” he told me, passing me the gun.
It wasn’t a call to pacifism. It was a reminder to focus on the danger in front of me, and whoever was behind that had already sent me the ammunition that would end this.
“If you need more,” Alexander offered.
“I’ll be in touch.” But we both knew that wasn’t true. The next time I left London it would be for good.
10
Belle
Clara had put ideas in my head. I’d spent the afternoon stewing over what she said. Smith was my key. He fit me in every way. Between the stress of remodeling, running a business, and a seemingly never ending string of threats to both us and our friends, we never seemed to catch a break. It wasn’t as though our sex life had suffered, but I finally understood what was missing. Smith was being a gentleman, preparing for the moment he would become a father.
I loved him for that. Despite his own tragic childhood, he’d wanted a baby as much as I did. Maybe more. He had faith in our ability to be good parents, which made me feel a bit more calm about it as her arrival approached. Nothing had escaped his notice from foot rubs to snacks to coming with me to the doctor. He was falling into the role with an ease I almost envied.
But one of the ways he fit me the most was by being rough and unexpected. I would also want to make love to my husband, but sometimes I wanted him to fuck me.
Like he owned me.
Because he did.
Like I craved it.
Because I did.
In the beginning of my pregnancy, especially after losing our first baby, I’d appreciated his gentle concern. But there was no cause for concern. Every scan had shown a completely healthy baby. I’d flown through this pregnancy with nothing to worry about, save for a little morning sickness in the first trimester. I’d seen Clara’s body during a doctor’s appointment when she was pregnant with William. Alexander hadn’t held back. He’d marked her as his own.
I never thought I’d have to ask Smith to do the same to me. But more than ever I craved the liberation his total dominance gave me. I needed him to take me, use me, possess me.
Basically, I was horny as hell.
It might have been building up the whole time. Maybe it was last minute hormone fluctuations. Part of me even knew it might be down to the uncertainty of what to expect after she was born. Would we ever get a minute alone? What if he didn’t want me the same way he did now? What if everything changed? I wanted to believe it wouldn’t, but a last hurrah of a more erotic nature seemed in order, to be safe.
On our way back to the townhome, I turned to Brex. “Can we stop in Mayfair?”
He glanced at me and nodded. “Sure. Anywhere in particular?”
“Just down Grosvenor.” I didn’t bother telling him what I was up to. Brex was generally a good sport. He didn’t fuss when I insisted on sitting in the front of the Range Rover with him. Smith had flat-refused to allow him to drive me in
the Bugatti, which in fairness, was nearly impossible for me to get into and out of at this stage. But even if I couldn’t fit behind the steering wheel, I wasn’t going to treat Brex like my driver. It was bad enough to have a bodyguard. It was worse when he was part of your social circle. At least, he felt that way to me. Smith, as usual, treated him like an outsider.
The first bars of a song started playing on the Rover’s radio and I arched an eyebrow in surprise. “I didn’t peg you for liking country music.”
“I don’t as a rule,” he admitted, flashing a sheepish smile that was at odds with his intimidating presence. “The singer is my cousin. He just won some award or something.”
Brexton Miles, my bodyguard and one of the King’s right hand men, a man who’d been to war, a man you called in to handle deadly situations, was secretly a giant teddy bear. I found myself thinking about what Clara said about him being in love with Georgia. I couldn’t see that working out.
“Well, in that case.” I turned up the song. “It’s not bad.”
“I’ll tell him it meets your approval.” He turned off the A4202 onto Grosvenor, passing a number of shops on his way. There’d been a time when Grosvenor Park had housed numerous embassies. Many of them were now being converted into luxury flats to service the affluent locals. We passed the Eaton Mayfair, a luxurious Georgian building turned hotel where one of my favorite restaurants was located. My stomach rumbled, an increasing phenomenon. I seemed to always be hungry these days. But I wasn’t looking for food now. I had something else on my mind.
“Here!” I said as soon as I spotted the lacquered black storefront. It stood out against the stone and brick of the surrounding buildings. But it wasn’t merely the paint choice that contrasted with the high-end watch shop across the street or the chic clothing store next door, it was its window. My favorite lingerie shop did little to hide its intentions. Mannequins sported sensual lace that snaked and crossed in fashions as provocative as its name implied.
Brex took one look at it and swallowed hard. “I’ll wait outside.”
Despite my refusal to be driven around, he had the advantage of being more mobile than me. Before I’d managed to unbuckle myself by my overdue baby bump, he’d circled round to open my door. He helped me out with a patient smile.
“I’ll only be a moment.” I flashed him a shy smile. I don’t know why I was so embarrassed. If Clara was right and he was in love with Georgia, he was going to need to be a little less prim in the face of some leather and lace.
Stepping inside, I immediately knew I’d made the right choice. Inside, the store turned into a glamorous and darkly decadent space. Black carpet with a subtle floral pattern and gold shelving maintained the hedonistic atmosphere. I might not fit into most of the items in the shop at the moment. I couldn’t help admiring a body suit of intersecting straps that formed a sexy cage on one mannequin’s torso. Someday, I’d be able to wear something like that for Smith again. For now, my choices were limited to the store’s more suggestive accessories.
“May I help you?” A shop girl wandered over, and I felt a surge of envy at her tiny waist. She could fit into anything here and I could barely undo my safety buckle in the car.
Turning from the glass case of gold collars and bracelets, I smiled at her. Her mouth fell open, confirming that I was as big as a house.
“I won’t pop,” I promised.
“My apologies!” She sounded sincere but dubious as to the veracity of my claim. “You didn’t look…” A ruddy blush painted her cheeks as she stopped herself.
I bit back a giggle, marveling that my pregnant belly could shock anyone in a store full of crystal-tipped whips, gold-plated handcuffs, and lingerie that served no other purpose than to entice.
“Can I see that one?” I managed to say evenly, pointing to a simple collar made from gold and black, silk rope.
She unlocked the case and withdrew it for my inspection. “It’s a lovely piece.” She sounded less embarrassed and more impressed. “That’s a slipknot, if you slide it, you can adjust the collar.”
She reached to demonstrate how the cold collar split in half when the silk rope was loosened, allowing it to slip over one’s head.
“Would you like to try it?” She held it out.
“I don’t know if my husband would appreciate someone else putting a collar on me.”
Her eyes widened, flashing to my belly and back up. “I’m s-s-sorry.”
I was going to give the poor girl a heart attack if I didn’t stop playing with her. It had been a long time since I shocked someone, and I couldn't help enjoying it a little.
“I’ll take it.”
“Would you like it gift-wrapped?” she asked with a nod.
“There’s an idea,” I said thoughtfully. The piece would send the message, but a gift like total submission deserved the proper presentation. I wasn’t about to bother strapping myself into one of their sexier pieces. I didn’t need to either. True sensuality lay in the suggestion of what was to come. I walked over to a display of silky kimonos.
Out of the corner of my eye, a blue dressing gown caught my attention. Its sheer silk-crepe flowed elegantly on the hanger, its loose silhouette punctuated by delicate, black lace. “And I’ll take this. Please don’t crease it.”
“Of course.” She bustled off to ring up my purchases, leaving me to look longingly at the rest of the shop.
A few moments later, I stepped out clutching two pink shopping bags. Brex opened my door, taking the bags to stow in the back.
As we approached Holland Park, he cleared his throat. “Will you be needing me this evening?”
I suspected that no matter what I said someone would be keeping an eye on our home for the night. I’d taken to inviting Brex for dinner just to punish Smith for making the decision to bring in outside security without my consent.
“Take the night off,” I told him brightly. I was going to be occupied. “We’ll order in.”
“As you wish.” He looked on the verge of laughter when we finally pulled to the front of our house. Smith wasn’t home yet, so Brex accompanied me inside. He swept each room for any signs of intrusion and checked the security feeds while I found myself nibbling on leftover cake from my baby shower. Spontaneous eating of cake ranked fairly high on my list of pregnancy perks.
“Everything looks good,” he informed me.
I held up the platter of petit-fours from the fridge. “Want one?”
He swiped one and hitched a thumb toward the door. “I’ll stick around until Smith gets home, but maybe I should…”
“Thank you.” At least, he knew how to read the room.
After Brex stepped out, I finished my treat, placed an order for curry from a spot around the corner to arrive in a few hours. Then, I went upstairs to get ready. Removing a box from each bag, I untied the black ribbon securing them and lifted their lids. Checking my phone, I discovered a message from Smith. He’d be home soon, giving me just enough time to freshen up.
I laid out the robe and collar before shucking off my clothes. Checking the mirror, I found my hair and make-up only needed a little help. I applied a fresh coat of red lipstick and spritzed a hint of perfume on my wrist. I didn’t really need to do more.
I’d told the shopgirl that my husband wouldn’t appreciate anyone else collaring me, but he was going to have to make an exception tonight. I couldn’t wait for him to do it, because I wanted to present myself to him as a gift but also as a reminder that I belonged to him, completely and utterly.
Sliding the knot down, I loosened the collar until I could easily slip it over my head. Then, I carefully tightened it, leaving two lengths of black rope hanging between my breasts. I felt a warm surge of arousal between my legs as I thought of him grabbing hold of the rope like a leash. I was drawing the sheer robe over my shoulders when I heard the front door open and Smith’s voice carry through the otherwise empty house.
“Beautiful?”
I bit my lip, tying the belt of the dress
ing gown, loosely under my breasts, allowing it to hang open enough that the collar was properly displayed. I wasn’t nude, but not an inch of me was covered. I moved into the hall swiftly, padding quietly on bare feet as he called out for me again. I heard his shoes on the bottom step just as I reached the top of the staircase.
“I’ve been…” his words died on his lips.
“I’m sorry, Sir,” I simpered. “I should have come more quickly.”
He kept staring until I raised an eyebrow. Then he took the steps two at a time until he was close enough to reach for me. He stopped there, his fingers dancing over the silk robe hanging between my breasts in invitation.
“Come quickly?” he repeated. “It’s too late for that, beautiful. I think I’ll take my time.”
“About that,” I purred. “Take your time, but don’t be gentle.”
“Belle,” he said, his voice pitching slightly with alarm, but I saw his eyes darken. He craved this as much as I did.
I placed my index finger over his sculpted lips before he could raise an objection. “We’ve made love every day since we found out I was pregnant. Tonight I need you to fuck me. Own me. Show me I belong to you.”
“You’ve always belonged to me,” he growled.
“Prove it,” I said in a low voice.
His head tilted. “Are you sure…”
“Do you want me on my knees?” I asked. “Do you want me to beg?”
His tongue flicked over his lower lip, and I knew that part of him did. But he shook his head.
I swallowed the scream of frustration trying to escape me.
“I will,” I threatened. “I will get down on this floor and beg until you fuck me, Price.”
He pressed his lips into a thin line. It took me a moment to realize that he wasn’t upset. He was trying not to smirk. “I thought you wanted me to dominate you.”