X: Command Me through Alexander's Eyes (Royals Saga)

by Geneva Lee

  “Oh X, do you really think you’re going to get me to call you Your Majesty?”

  An involuntary smirk slashes my lips. “With what I’m planning to do to you, you might.”

  She looks torn between kissing me, hitting me, and ignoring me entirely. Finally, she whispers, “Brimstone.”

  It’s an interesting choice.

  “You could just say go to hell.” I can’t help myself.

  “I thought you wanted me to pick a word that I would remember.”

  “Brimstone, though?”

  “It was the last time I said no to you,” she says softly.

  Ahh. Now I understand. It makes me like it even less.

  “You’ve said no to me since then.”

  “But I didn’t really mean it those times,” she says.

  This changes things. I reward her honesty with a teasing twist of my thumb. “Whatever you wish, Clara.”

  “Then fuck me.”

  She doesn’t have to ask twice. Instinct takes over. I drive into her. Over and over. Every part of me needs to fill her. I ache to see her eyes widen as I claim her. She’s mine. I want to watch the moment she realizes it, too.

  “Look at me,” I command. “I want to see you as you come.”

  Her eyes flutter open, and I let go, releasing my last thread of control. My hips roll violently against her, and I empty inside her. She shutters and cries out, falling apart in my arms. When her body finally stills, her arms circle my neck as she sags against me in a boneless heap.

  “I love knowing that you’re full of me,” I whisper into her hair.“All night I’m going to be thinking of being inside you, knowing that I’ve marked you. Knowing that you’re mine.”

  She looks up, eyes sparkling, and kisses me. Something in them has changed.

  Something in me has changed.

  Will everyone see that tonight? Or will they simply focus on the stunning woman by my side?

  “And I’ll be thinking of your hot, naked cunt under this sexy dress. I want it to be ready for me if I need it.”

  “It will be.”

  I could linger here with her like this forever. She’s so vulnerable and small in my arms. When she comes, she is a queen, and I’m her servant, driven to give her pleasure. Now? I’ve weakened her right before she’ll need her strength the most. I help her adjust her dress grudgingly, stealing kisses as I do. It’s a reminder that we’re on our way to the ball. I won’t be able to control what happens there. No one can control the press or my family.

  “Stop, you fiend.” She smacks me playfully, reminding me that right now, everything is perfect. Especially her.

  “I can’t help it. I can’t keep my hands off you.”

  “I’m not wearing underwear,” she reminds me. “You don’t have to work so hard.”

  “We’ll see about that.” If she only knew. I sit back, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face. Her cheeks are flushed. She’s so alive. She’s nothing like them. She’s nothing like me.

  Clara checks her make-up. It’s unnecessary. She’s lit up from within. I did that.

  What’s going to undo it? Why did I bring her here? Why am I putting her through this? I take her hand, knitting her fingers through mine, and silently vow to keep her safe from the poisoned hearts waiting for us.

  “Are you ready?” I ask. She stares at our hands before finally nodding.

  When we arrive, I circle the back of the car slowly. Opening her door, I give her my hand again. I won’t let her go until I have to. I do my best to shield her from the paparazzi. But it’s no use. Cameras flash. The crowd shouts. Her eyes are wide and startled as she takes in the scene around us. I smile, hoping she finds it reassuring before I lead my lamb to the slaughter.

  Chapter Fifteen

  I slip into my shell as we make our way through the lobby. There are friends and family and the bloody paparazzi everywhere. Keeping Clara’s hand tightly clasped in mine, I weave through them. I don’t bother pausing for photo ops. No one wants those pictures of us. They’ll publish whatever they take that looks scandalous, not some poised photograph of a happy couple.

  Why the hell did I bring her here?

  There’s some relief when we reach the ballroom, but it’s short-lived. I survey the people gathered there. It’s the usual crowd—dignitaries and four-times removed cousins and politicians and celebrities. All here to pretend my father isn’t a giant bastard for one night. I can’t help wondering who picked the safari theme or how much it cost. Jungle ferns and birds flying overhead? It’s beyond ridiculous.

  “Are you okay?” Clara murmurs in a low voice.

  “I’m fine, Clara,” I say, spotting Norris. “Excuse me one moment.”

  My goal this evening is to keep Clara at a distance from my family. She’ll have to meet them, of course. I can’t get around that, and it was the point of bringing her here. I chose a public event on purpose—there’s less chance of a scene.

  “Alexander,” Norris greets me coolly. He stands casually, but I have no doubt he’s sweeping the room for security concerns. The man never rests.

  “Keep an eye on my family, and I’ll keep an eye on her,” I say. “It’s best we control all interactions.”

  “And do you know where she is?” he asks, each word as sharp as a knife’s tip.

  I turn to my side, my stomach flipping over when I realize she’s not there. I turn and stare at the crowded room, searching for her. I left her. I remember now. What am I doing? How am I fucking this up already? I can’t think clearly when she’s near me—that point’s been proven again and again—but this is a new low. “I told her I’d be right back,” I say wildly.

  “She’s not a dog, Alexander. You can’t expect her to stay put,” he advises me quietly. His chin tilts to the corner. “She’s with her friend.”

  I follow his gaze to find Clara laughing with Belle and another woman I don’t recognize. Clara obviously knows her, though. The sickening pit in my stomach shrinks. I know it won’t be gone entirely until I have her within reach again.

  “I won’t let her out of my sight again,” I mutter.

  “Is that wise? There are a few warnings you should deliver yourself,” Norris says. “You can’t expect everyone here to behave without a little incentive.”

  “I shouldn’t leave her alone.”

  “She’s not alone, and she’s perfectly safe here. No one will touch her inside.” His certainty is reassuring.

  Clara is safe—physically. But she’s not in physical danger here. The wounds those closest to me will inflict are more of the mind-fuck variety. It’s how my entire family communicates. Sticks and stones might break bones, but the old nursery rhyme fails to realize that words can be poison.

  “I’m going to check on her first,” I say. I owe her an apology at the very least.

  I’m halfway to her when Pepper accosts me. Tonight, she’s motherless and not playing the demure lady. She’s on the prowl, and I’ve inadvertently stumbled into her trap.

  “I’ve been looking for you.” She makes a show of brushing some invisible speck of dust off my shoulder.

  “I can’t imagine why?” I bite out, still managing a smile. I brought Clara here to avoid a scene, but that means I must play by the same rules as well.

  “Why are you acting this way?” She pauses and brings her gaze up to mine. “We’re practically family. I was your sister’s best friend.”

  “And you’re fucking my father. Don’t forget that,” I say pleasantly, nodding to an old school acquaintance as he passes.

  Her false smile shatters. “Don’t be vulgar.”

  I know Pepper would like to remove the practically from this sentiment—it’s why she’s shagging my father. What I can’t figure out is where I play into it? Why bother with me when she’s got his attention? I know she wants to secure a place in the royal family. I don’t know why she thinks either of us is a viable option. I’ve made my feelings on marriage clear: I’m not about to continue this charade of
a family any further, and I won’t be adding to its number by marriage or otherwise.

  “I’m sorry, I need to see to my date.” I move away, but she follows at my heels.

  “I want to be introduced,” she says hastily.

  “Why?” I stop in my tracks. No good can come of that.

  “Alexander, no matter what you think, we are friends. We’ve been through so much together. We both lost Sarah.” She blinks, and I swear she’s near tears. “I don’t want to lose you, too.”

  It’s a ruse. It has to be. Pepper has two settings as far as I can tell: simpering sycophant and raging bitch. But they will eventually meet, and, at least, I can control the encounter here. Another time and place, I may not be so lucky.

  “Behave,” I order.

  “I just want to meet the woman who finally captured your heart.”

  I cast a warning glare at her. “Don’t try so hard to sell your act. It makes it easier to see through.”

  Clara’s toasting with her black-haired friend—the one I don’t know—as we approach. She hesitates, glass at her lips, body going still. Can she feel that too? The invisible thread linking us. She’s tugging on her end now, calling me to her. I can’t resist the pull—I don’t want to.

  “Clara,” I say in a low voice as I step behind her. “I see you found a drink.”

  She spins around, startled, champagne spilling from her flute onto Pepper’s dress. I fight the urge to laugh and win—but only barely.

  “I’m so sorry!” She looks horrified, nearly dropping the glass as she tries to find a way to help Pepper mop it up.

  Pepper shakes her head, plastering a smile on her face, but her eyes stay on the ruined fabric. “Don’t worry about it.”

  Their eyes meet, and I wonder what they see. The two couldn’t be more different. Pepper is tall and blonde and spends so much time at the gym it’s practically her career. She wears her sexuality like a beacon. It’s a siren song she howls at all times, and God help the poor bastards that fall victim to its lure. Clara, on the other hand, with her curvy body and dark hair, has no idea how sexy she is. She knows she’s pretty. She’s not exactly confident, though. She doesn’t need every eye to turn when she walks into the room. I suspect she doesn’t want that kind of attention. But any man who catches sight of her wants her. I know that. I’ve caught their stares this evening.

  “Clara, may I introduce you to an old family friend, Pepper Lockwood?” I say stiffly, placing as much emphasis on friend as possible—and hoping they both get the message.

  She smiles, obviously a little lost as to what to say, and before she can think of it, Pepper leans forward to kiss her cheek.

  “It’s nice to meet you, and I am so sorry.” Clara is flustered, and I can’t blame her. Surely, she senses the venom behind Pepper’s greeting.

  “It’s just a dress,” Pepper whispers like they’re old friends. I don’t catch what she says next.

  Clara laughs, her body relaxing. Whatever Pepper said has lowered her guard. I shoot a pointed glare at my old friend.

  This sham introduction is over, and she needs to move on. Pepper’s eyes widen, but she collects herself quickly. “I should be going. I brought a date, and I’ve lost him.”

  Clara looks like she understands this a bit too well. She’s in good hands, though, and no one will protect her as fiercely as her best friend.

  This is good because it’s time for Pepper and me to have a little chat. I brush a kiss over Clara’s cheek and murmur a reassurance before steering Pepper away from her.

  “I behaved myself,” Pepper hisses when we’re a safe distance from Clara and her friends.

  “I wasn’t going to stick around to see how long that would last,” I say, dropping my hold on her elbow.

  I start to turn, eager to be rid of her, when she blurts out, “So, how long have you known about Albert and me?”

  “I’m not sure this is the place to discuss this,” I say through clenched teeth.

  “We could meet up. For coffee? Dinner?” she suggests.

  “I’m fully booked,” I say coldly. But there are things I want to say—need to say to her. Now is my best opportunity to do that without winding up with photos splashed all over the tabloids again. “And we both know that you’re just hoping to make the front page again.”

  “We’re news. I can’t help that,” she says, blinking as though she disdains the spotlight.

  I’m news. I always have been. Looking back, I can’t remember how Pepper became so close to my sister. Did she crave the attention even as a child? Was she groomed to seek famous friends? Knowing her mother, that seems a possibility. There’s really not much I know about her at all. She’s like a heat-seeking missile that’s been tuned into my family’s frequency. Or, at least, the frequency of money.

  “Let’s have a drink now,” I say, nodding toward the bar.

  Her chest puffs out, her chin tilts, nose sticking up in the air. She thinks she’s won this round. Maybe she has, but losing one round might make all the difference in figuring out what she’s really after.

  “Two martinis,” she says to the bartender.

  I frown. “One martini—and a Scotch for me.”

  “I thought you liked martinis,” she says, and I see her tuck away this encounter. For what? Further study?

  “Not particularly.” She’s not getting more out of me than that. Our drinks arrive with the customary speed I expect. Being served first is one of the few perks of being born a sodding Royal.

  “How did you find out about us?” Pepper asks quietly.

  I’m almost surprised that she’s been so discreet. An affair with the King? The scandal would be headline fodder for weeks. “You aren’t as careful as you think you are. My father’s weekend trips have doubled in the last few months.”

  “I don’t see what that has to do with me.”

  “You’ve already confessed. There’s no need to play innocent now,” I advise her. Finding out was an accident, really. I’d sent Norris to dig up dirt on her, convinced she was the one who leaked the photo of me kissing Clara, and he’d stumbled on more. She doesn’t need to know why or how I know—but that I know. That’s what is important.

  “No one can know,” she says swiftly, dropping her hand on mine. “If Albert found out that you knew…”

  “What?” I demand. “He’d call it off? Then I’m going to tell him because the thought of you two makes me want to vomit.”

  “You can’t! You don’t understand what’s at stake,” she pleads.

  “Enlighten me.” I frown. She’s actually…scared.

  Pepper pauses and draws a deep breath. For a moment, I think she’s going to tell me what I want to know. But she’s too calculating for that. She always has been. Whatever frightened her, she’s got it under control now. “I know things, too. Let’s not forget that. I’d hate to break sweet Clara’s heart.”

  “She’s smart. She doesn’t get her news from tabloids.” I abandon my drink and stand, disgust flooding through me. “You can’t touch her.”

  “Would you care to wager on that?” A wicked smile carves over her red lips. “I like my odds.”

  “So do I.” We glare at one another for a moment. It’s a stalemate. We both have winning hands. We both know it. But who’s cards are stronger? “I need to find Clara.”

  “That’s a good idea.” Pepper’s eyes sparkle. There’s not a single trace of panic in them now. “You wouldn’t want her to fall into the wrong hands.”

  I don’t bother responding. I simply make my way through the crowd. I need Clara in my sights. I need to touch her. Norris was wrong about her being safe here. I’d been foolish to think I could control this room—a symptom of how out of practice I am at being a royal. How many assassinations were carried out at court? I let my guard down.

  My anxiety ratchets up another notch every minute that ticks by without spotting her. There are too many people in the crowd. I begin to look for Norris. Surely, he knows where she is. Then
I see it: a flash of red tucked against her dark hair.

  Clara scans the ballroom before continuing in the opposite direction. She’s alone again. How could Belle let her wander off? Where is she going? I force my way towards her, ignoring the calls of friends, not caring that I’m practically shoving people out of my way.

  I can see her. She’s within reach, and nothing will stop me from getting to her.

  Chapter Sixteen

  She pauses just out of reach and disappears behind a column. By the time I reach it and discover it leads to a darkened alcove, I’m sure I lost her again, but then I catch the curve of her hip peeking from the other side. Circling it, I reach around and grab her hand. I pull her towards the small privacy the alcove affords. I need my hands on her.

  The weight on my chest lightens when I press myself against her. Clara fights it for a moment before melting against the alcove’s marble arch. She needs this, too. She must after dealing with all the poisoned looks and self-serving introductions from strangers. My fingers sink into her, obstructed by the silk that keeps me from touching her bare flesh. Just the thought rockets blood straight to my groin, resulting in a painful reminder that there’s too much clothing involved in this equation. But a kiss is all I can afford to risk. We’ve already suffered enough bad press. I won’t allow a lack of control to result in more mud-slinging. I promised to protect her this evening—even if that means protecting her from myself.

  It takes effort to pull away from her, but I do, brushing my palm over her bare upper arm. That’s a mistake. Touching her again. I want to keep doing it. I step farther away and adjust my tie instead. “I needed that.”

  Clara stares at me, her perfect lips hanging open and giving me all sorts of bad ideas. We need to get away from this dark corner before I can commit another dark deed. I offer her my arm. She hesitates, dabbing at her lipstick, before taking it.

  Does she know how careful she needs to be? A hair out of place? A smear of lipstick? It isn’t something she can risk. Not with the attention of the room on her.

  “You look beautiful.” I hate that I need to reassure her. I want to kiss her senseless until her hair is wild and her cheeks glow, and then I want to lead her back into the crowd, looking like a woman claimed.