by Geneva Lee
“There are dozens of people here,” she whispered.
“I’m not making a move,” I promised with a wicked grin, “I’m giving you a sneak preview of things to come.”
She licked her lips, looking slightly dazed. Then her knees buckled slightly. I caught her elbow in time, but the stumble caught the attention of everyone around us. Wrapping an arm around her waist, I fought to control my annoyance at the crowd forming around us.
Norris materialized at my side and began moving the gawkers back. “The Queen needs a moment. She’s simply overheated.”
“Sorry, Poppet,” I murmured, walking her toward the bar. “I shouldn’t get you so worked up.”
“How do you fit your ego in this tent?” she asked dryly. “It’s getting warm. I dressed for this morning’s temperature.”
The temperature wouldn’t even register as balmy. It was quite cool despite the sun’s appearance, but I didn’t argue with her.
“Water, please,” I asked the attendant.
“And I’m the one who’s causing trouble?” Sarah’s voice cut through the air. She leaned against the bar, sucking the olive off a toothpick before dropping it back into her martini glass. “I’m having friends over this evening.”
“Use a state room,” I ordered her. At least she wouldn’t be out on the town. There would be no press to catch her acting out inside Buckingham. I studied her for a moment, taking in her black dress and blood red lips. “Why are you dressed for a funeral?”
“Good afternoon to you, too,” she said, rolling her eyes. “It’s a protest.”
“Of what?” I asked.
“Inhumane treatment.” She smirked as she studied Clara, who was sipping her water with wary eyes.
“Did you thank Clara for taking care of you last night?” I asked. Next to me, Clara flinched, placing a hand on my arm. I ignored it. “My pregnant wife shouldn’t have to put you to bed at three o’clock in the morning.”
“I didn’t,” Sarah said, her voice dripping with false sweetness. “I wouldn’t want to mess up her plan to replace me.”
“What are you talking about?” I pressed a palm to my forehead, feeling the beginnings of a headache.
“She told me the truth. That’s it her job to keep the crown from passing to me.” Sarah moved a little, angling her head so that her hair swung like a curtain between us and the rest of the world. “But she’s wrong about one thing: a Royal cunt already stole the throne.”
Clara’s grip on my arm tightened, but I was too shocked to respond. As Sarah sashayed out to watch the next dressage competitor, I started after her, but Clara stopped me. “Let her go.”
“She called you—”
“Exactly what I called her earlier,” she said calmly.
My gaze which had been following my sister pivoted to my wife.
“I had to get her away from Anders somehow,” she said with a shrug.
“Colourful choice,” I muttered. “Come on.”
“We can’t leave,” she said as I led her out of the tent.
“I want you to rest—away from half the aristocracy. We won’t go far.” The equestrian events were being held on an estate on the outskirts of London.
I watched Clara carefully as we walked the slight distance to the property’s Tudor-Gothic estate, Bingham House.
Opening the front door, I held it for my wife, who surveyed me with dancing eyes.
“You act like you own the place,” she said.
“I probably do,” I told her. “Or it’s in trust or something.”
“Do you think we should be here?” she asked, glancing around as though we might get caught.
“I suspect no one will challenge me on our presence,” I said dryly, pointing to a King’s Trust placard hanging by the door.
“That’s your problem. No one challenges you.”
“That isn’t true.” I backed her against a wall, dipping my mouth to her ear. “You do.”
“Let’s not get caught shagging by the maintenance staff.” She ducked away from me, but I caught her hand and dragged her into a parlour.
“I will stop trying to get in your knickers if you promise to rest.” I guided her to a sofa that was far too ornamental to be much use. “This will have to do. I don’t think anyone’s redecorated this place since the Victorian era. Of course, there might be a bedroom.”
“What happened to staying out of my knickers?”
“You can’t blame a man for trying, Poppet.” I sat on the sofa, swinging one leg up and patted the space between my legs.
She eyed me with suspicion, but as soon as she settled against me, she sighed happily.
“You know what I’m looking forward to?” I asked her, running a hand over her stomach. “When the baby arrives and we can tell everyone to sod off.”
“I’m not certain that paternity leave applies to the King.” Her palms slid down my thighs as she relaxed further into my body.
This was how I wanted her—calm, content, and completely safe. When I’d realized I wouldn’t be able to go with her to today’s event, I’d nearly cancelled my meetings. With Jacobson free, the thought of my wife attending a public outing without me terrified me. But I couldn’t keep her locked away if I wanted to keep her. Instead, I’d tripled the security we’d sent ahead and failed to mention it to her.
“At least I’ll be home,” she said, guessing what I was thinking.
“Where I can take care of you.”
“We don’t have to be home for that.” She nuzzled into the crook of my neck. “You’re doing fine right now.”
“There are many components to taking care of you.” I kissed the top of her forehead, the chaste show of affection somewhat undermined by the hand palming her breast. “And you want me to stay out of your knickers, so I’ll need you at home.”
“You offered to stay out them,” she said, her body arching to press against the fingers kneading her nipple through the fabric of her dress. “I never accepted that offer.”
“In that case…” I gripped her hip with my other hand, urging her ass against my cock. “Allow me to demonstrate how attentive I can be.”
Drawing her skirt up, I stroked her thigh, relishing the small whimper she made as she spread her legs in response to my touch. My fingers dipped under the lace of her panties, delving into her folds.
“We shouldn’t, X,” she said, even as her hips began to circle against my touch.
“Shhh,” I hushed her. “Everyone here serves at the King’s pleasure, and I serve the pleasure of the Queen.”
I would never get enough of her—touching her, listening to her, holding her. Most of my life I’d been impatient, moving recklessly from one passion to the next, and reacting to crises with equal abandon. I wanted to be a student of her body. I wanted to study every inch of her skin, record every sound she made, catalogue a thousand different ways to make her come.
“Do you touch yourself like this when I’m not around?” I nipped her ear.
“Sometimes,” she whimpered, her breath speeding up.
“Tell me what you do.” I slowed my fingers, keeping her climax from her.
She pushed against my hand, her answer coated in desperation. “I close my eyes.”
“And your hand does this?” I continued my assault on her swollen nub.
“Yes,” she moaned.
“But not like I do?”
“No.” She shook her head slightly, her teeth sinking into her lower lip.
“What else?” I pressed, reducing the pressure again and earning a frustrated grunt from her.
“I think of what you do to me and what I want you to do,” she confessed.
“Are your eyes closed now?” I waited for her nod. “I’ll do the work but you tell me what you imagine.”
“Ropes,” she breathed, and my balls tightened as memories of her bound body flashed to mind. “I can’t move. You’ve tied me up and I show you how much I love it with my mouth.”
Fuck. I’d wanted to
study her and she was giving me my first lesson.
“What is your mouth doing?” I asked in a strained voice.
“I’m sucking you off.” She groaned and buried her face against me, her limbs contracting in inevitability. But I wasn’t done with my education. My fingers paused, wanting more of her fantasy, so that I could make it come true.
“Why do you need to be tied up, Poppet?” It was a test with no wrong answers.
“Because of how you look at me.”
“How is that?” I wanted to know. I wanted to see it through her eyes.
“With love and pride,” she whispered. “I feel safe and beautiful and owned.”
“You are.” Every nerve in my body fired, ignited by her words. “And very soon, I will tie you up and make that a memory, not a wish. Do you want that?”
“Yes, please.” Her lips brushed over my chin, angling for more contact. I’d been dangling her off a cliff and she was ready to fall.
“For now, hold on.”
She hooked an arm around my neck as I began to roll my thumb over the point of her desire. But she didn’t close her eyes. She locked them with mine, shuddering violently in my arms as I released her. When she finally stilled, I kissed her cheeks and nose.
“Why did you look?” I asked.
“Because I don’t have to imagine when you’re touching me. It’s all I need.”
For so long I’d thought I looked at my wife with depravity, wanting to possess her. I’d fought that urge without ever seeing it from her perspective. I’d never needed to fear my darkness, because our love was born from shadows. She’d never needed to tame the beast, because she’d never feared it.
Chapter 19
Clara
There were a number of unfamiliar cars parked behind the gates to Buckingham when we arrived home a few hours later. We’d stayed to help Edward award winners of the day’s events. After the longer than usual drive, the sun was melting from the sky, twilight moving swiftly behind it, and there was a party at the palace.
“Did I miss a memo?” Georgia asked from the front.
“I told her not to go out.”
“It seems she brought the club here.” Norris turned the Range Rover into the garage with practiced ease, but his voice sounded weary.
I couldn’t blame him. I’d been planning a shower, a shag, and sleep.
But we had a teenager in the house now.
“She said it was a few friends,” I reminded him as Alexander helped me out of the car. All of them stopped to stare at me. Georgia and Norris looked torn between amusement and annoyance. Alexander looked betrayed.
“I left that bit out on purpose,” he muttered.
“Because he knew it was a stupid move,” Georgia clarified. “You two might want to brush up on raising an adolescent or we can all just keep on pretending she’s an adult.”
“Or we can ship her to diplomatic duty somewhere,” I said.
“Only if we’re angling to start a war,” Alexander said. “I’ll deal with her. Georgia take Clara to our rooms and make sure none of our guests have wandered too far off the standard tour.”
“I should come—”
Alexander silenced me with a kiss that made me forget what I was saying. “Go to bed.”
“I want to go to bed with you,” I whispered against his mouth.
“Oh hell, you two have done your duty to King and Country,” Georgia broke in. “You’re on your second heir to the throne. Aren’t you tired of—”
“Miss Kincaid,” Norris said softly.
Calling her by her formal name was enough reprimand. Georgia marched toward the house.
I followed after her. Every time I thought she and I were getting somewhere, she reminded me exactly what she thought about me. “That’s my ride.” I kissed him one more time. “Hurry up.”
“That will depend on if we’re dealing with a house party or a full-blown orgy,” he said.
Georgia was waiting for me by the back entrance, tapping her foot impatiently.
“Do you have somewhere to be?”
“Actually, I do,” she huffed. “I need to find Brex and slap the shit out of him.”
“Brex?” I repeated.
“He’s supposed to be keeping her in check. Alexander made that clear. And there’s no way all her friends have security clearance. Brex is going to get fired.”
“And that would bother you?” I knew I was dancing a bit too close to the fire but Georgia had never opened up to me this way.
“Why do you care?”
“I’m listening,” I explained, drawing out the word. It was like a foreign concept to her. “It’s what people do when another person’s upset.”
“I’m not upset, I’m pissed.” She rounded on me, pointing an accusatory finger. “And it’s not what people do. It’s what friends do.”
“Okay, it is,” I admitted, about to clarify that I didn’t flatter myself as being her bosom buddy.
“We’re not friends. Friendship fucks things up.”
I had a feeling we weren’t talking about us or friendship anymore. Since I’d met Georgia, I’d considered her a stone cold bitch. At first I’d seen that as a character flaw but I was starting to see it was armor. Underneath it she was someone else entirely. Maybe that woman wasn’t my friend either, but I suspected she wasn’t as much of a hard-ass as she wanted me to believe.
When we reached our rooms, she insisted on doing a full sweep. I didn’t try to stop her. I knew all too well that a party often opened the door to enemies as much as friends.
I peeked my head into Elizabeth’s room to discover she was already sleeping. The night nurse waved to me quietly.
“What’s wrong with you?” Georgia asked when I went back into the parlor.
“I hate days like this, where I’m too busy being Queen to be a mother. It makes me feel guilty.”
“Look, if you feel guilty about not doing enough for your kid, then you’re already doing better than ninety percent of parents out there. Trust me,” she added.
“You’re not nearly as bitchy as I thought you were,” I told her without thinking.
“Is that right?” She snorted, shaking her head. “You’re not nearly as uptight as I thought you were, but maybe you just finally got a good enough spanking.”
I winced at the off-color reminder that she knew a lot more about my private life than I knew about hers.
“See? I told you I was rubbish at the whole friends bit.” Georgia jammed her hands in her pocket. “Everything is good here, but I’m going to send someone to stay outside the door just in case.”
“Thanks.” I considered what she’d said about us not being friends. Maybe she couldn’t see us that way because she’d never actually had a real friend. “Are you going to find Brex?’
“Yes. He better hope I find him before Alexander does.”
“Just a question as a friend: Have you ever thought that maybe you’re in love with him, too?” I asked her softly.
Georgia froze, her fingers on the knob. “I don’t do love,” she said harshly, “and I don’t do friendship.”
She slammed the door behind her.
“That went well,” I said to the empty room.
The night was turning into a disaster, made worse by the fact that we had actual problems to deal with. I couldn’t imagine what Alexander would do when he found Sarah, but I knew what needed to be done. This was a family matter, and I wasn’t about to sit here and let him handle it alone. I also was tired of shouldering the burden ourselves.
I retrieved my handbag from the table and fished out my mobile. Edward answered immediately.
“Miss me already?”
“Get your ass over here.”
“Is that an official order or a friendly request?”
I heard David in the background and did my best to ignore the twinge of guilt. His husband had been schmoozing aristocrats all day and now I was taking him away again. “And bring David. Another voice of reason can’t hur
t.”
“Do I want to know what’s going on?”
“It’s time to deal with your sister.”
* * *
Music poured from the ballroom, which was one of the better places to throw a party, I supposed. I’d filled Edward in on the details, but I didn’t wait around for him to arrive.
Brex caught me at the door, blocking me from entry. “I wouldn’t go in there.”
“Full-blown orgy,” I muttered under my breath.
“What?” His eyebrows shot up.
“Nothing,” I said. “Is my husband in there?”
“Yes.”
Then I was going in. I pushed past Brex, who didn’t try to stop me in the end. As soon as I was in the room, I realized why he’d tried to keep me out. It wasn’t an orgy, but it was damn close. I didn’t recognize a single person in the room. It looked like Sarah had gone to the nearest club and issued a blanket invitation to anyone who would follow her home.
Suddenly, I was thankful Georgia had done the security sweep.
I scanned the room, searching for my husband, but if he was in here, he’d blended into the crowd. Brex appeared at my side. There was no way we could hear each other over the noise, but the implication was clear: he wasn’t going to allow me to walk around here alone.
I wanted to ask him if Georgia had found him, but it didn’t seem like the place. Then, when he turned his head, I spotted the start of a bruise on his cheekbone. I couldn’t help but wonder if that was courtesy of her or my husband.
All around us, people in various states of undress were grinding against each other. I’d long been of the opinion that the monarchy needed to lighten up, but this was pushing things a bit far.
The first familiar face I found was the last one I wanted to see. Pepper hadn’t heeded Alexander’s decree for her to stay out of our house and she was surrounding by a group of old friends. It seemed the Royal Brat Pack had nothing better to do on a weekend than crash Buckingham.
Pepper’s full lips curled into a sneer when she spotted me and she leaned down to whisper in a redhead’s ear. For the life of me I couldn’t remember if it was Amelia or Priscilla, and I couldn’t care less. But as much as I loathed these leeches, they were part of Sarah’s inner circle before the accident. Most had pretended at friendships with Edward after, but only to get invited to the country and events. They were now on my personal black list, but they were here and they probably knew where Sarah was hiding—unless Alexander had dragged her out already. Steering Brex toward them, I reminded myself that I was the Queen.