Capture Me (Royals Saga: Smith and Belle Book 3)

by Geneva Lee

  “There’s a number in his phone for a Dr. Roget,” I told Edward. “If we make it out of here, I’m calling it.”

  “Not much of a plan,” he commented.

  I didn’t bother to tell him that Plan B involved Georgia Kincaid. Instead I shot him a look of warning. “Right now, my plan is to survive the next five minutes, and when we accomplish that, we’ll focus on surviving the next ten.”

  “We could call Alexander,” he suggested.

  “No!” It was harsh, but it was gut reaction. Alexander might be able to help us—he’d gotten us into this mess, after all—but instinct told me to keep tonight’s events as far from Clara and her daughter as possible. It was bad enough that I’d dragged Edward into the fray.

  “As you wish.”

  I held out my hand. “Help me up.”

  Edward didn’t press for an explanation. He just reached down and hauled me to my feet, but as soon as I stepped into the light, his fingers tightened around my wrist.

  “What the hell happened, Belle?”

  He hadn’t seen me yet. I had hoped he wouldn’t until after my injuries were healed.

  “It’s not important.” I shook my head. “Smith’s wounds are serious. He needs to be our focus.”

  Edward didn’t move. “Did he do this to you?”

  “God, no,” I said in surprise. “He saved me.”

  Edward didn’t push for more information as he lifted Smith over his shoulder. “Okay, so we have an unconscious man. You looking like you just went ten rounds. I guess we take the lift to the lobby?”

  “Your sarcasm is unnecessary.” But he had a point. Edward was hardly inconspicuous when he wasn’t carrying a body. Waltzing through the front door wasn’t an option.

  I snapped my fingers as it hit me. “The Bugatti. He left it in the private garage.”

  “Lead the way.”

  Taking the lift was out of the question. I couldn’t risk that the police were already here. Heading for the stairs up, I braced myself for the prospect of entering my hotel room again—of seeing Jake again. But when I opened the door from the stairwell, I immediately threw myself back into it. Police were already swarming the scene. And I knew it wouldn't take them long until they discovered the trail of blood and began to investigate it.

  Smith had acted out of self-defense. That—not to mention his alliance with Alexander— would be enough to save him from prosecution. I wasn't in the least concerned with him going to jail. But with Hammond alive, nowhere in London was safe—not even a jail cell. The best course of action was to stay off Hammond's radar entirely, which meant only trusting myself.

  "Now what?" Edward demanded, shifting Smith’s weight. "Not to worry you, but they'll be shutting this whole place down pretty quickly. We need to leave now."

  “The stairs.”

  He didn’t complain as he carried Smith toward the sub-level of the hotel. When we reached the final landing, I closed my eyes and turned the doorknob.

  Edward muttered something that sounded like “miracle” under his breath as it swung open.

  "There it is,” I yelled, pointing to Smith’s one-of-a-kind sports car.

  His eyebrow shot up when he spotted it.

  "It's a two-seater," he pointed out.

  "You drive.”

  Edward propped Smith into the passenger seat and I climbed into my husband’s lap. In the dark I couldn’t see his wound. Now I didn’t want to look. But I slid my hands to the hot, sticky bloodstain and applied pressure. My medical experience was limited to common sense and what I'd seen in the movies.

  I wasn't certain either would help him now.

  "Where are we going?" Edward asked as he threw the car in reverse and screeched toward the exit.

  Hopefully, Dr. Roget was a friend—a good friend.

  A tired voice answered on the second ring. “Price?”

  “This is his wife,” I said in a rush, ignoring the pang of guilt that surged through me as Edward shot me an incredulous look. “I don’t know if it’s a mistake to call you, but Smith needs help. Discreet help.”

  I was either making the right call or leading us into a trap, but I didn’t have many options.

  “Can you make it to St. Mary’s?”

  “Yes, but…” I hesitated. I’d wanted to avoid a hospital and all the prying questions that would come with it.

  “There’s an oncology clinic connected to the east wing. It’s closed for the evening; I’ll meet you there.”

  “Thank you,” I breathed, but he’d already hung up.

  I repeated the instructions to Edward word for word. He nodded quietly, not bothering to speak even as his jaw tensed. The car sped up as we zoomed toward our destination and an uncertain fate. He had questions, and probably more than a few harsh words for me.

  I couldn’t bear to think about the answers he’d want eventually. Instead I focused on the fact that Smith’s blood was still warm on my skin, which meant he was still alive.

  For now.

  Chapter 3

  As promised, the oncology clinic at St. Mary’s was dim when we arrived. Cast in shadows, it was nondescript. Another boring, anonymous building closed for the night. A tingling dashed across my skin, raising goose pimples. Somehow the sheer genericness of the scene made what we were doing more terrifying. I glanced nervously at Edward as he parked the Bugatti near the entrance. The light of a single street lamp filtered weakly into the car, casting his curly head in a faint halo.

  The look suited him. It took more than a fair bit of loyalty to drag a soon-to-be murder suspect across town, especially considering he didn’t care for Smith. In that moment, I wouldn’t have been surprised to discover he was hiding a pair of wings.

  “Are you sure about this?” he asked, peering through the car’s tinted windows at the eerily silent building.

  “Yes.” But I wasn’t. Not really. If Smith was conscious, he would probably tell me I was making a mistake trusting Dr. Roget, but that was the whole problem. He wasn’t awake, and with each passing second the reality of his injuries grew grimmer. I had no choice but to make a decision, and I’d decided it was worth the risk.

  Edward exhaled heavily, giving me a terse nod before he climbed out of the driver’s seat. Coming around the car, he helped me out. I was careful to avoid getting any more blood on his clothes, which instantly seemed stupid given he was already covered in it. But the more stains he wore home, the more questions there would be, and right now it was best to keep others out of the situation.

  His eyes narrowed as he took in Smith’s sallow coloring, but he didn’t say anything. What could he say? That this was serious? That it might be too late? Those thoughts had already crossed my mind. Thank god, my best friend knew me well enough to know that. I didn’t think I could handle hearing the truth spoken out loud. Not yet.

  Edward lifted Smith’s body out of the car, then turned on me. “If this proves to be a mistake—”

  “It isn’t,” I reassured him—as much as myself.

  “If it is,” he continued, ignoring me, “then you get the hell out.”

  “Edward, I’m not—”

  This time he interrupted me. “I’m not debating this with you. It’s what Smith would want.”

  I jerked in surprise. He was right. Smith would want me to run. My best friend and my husband didn’t generally see eye to eye. It felt strange for Edward to channel him now, and it only served as a reminder that Smith wasn’t capable of delivering the warning himself.

  And although I detested being told what to do, I couldn’t divorce the demand from the men behind it. Tonight I needed to judge when to be headstrong and when to be smart, especially if I was going to keep all of us safe.

  “Fine,” I agreed, leveling my gaze to his and staring him down, “as long as you run, too.”

  “And Smith?” Edward’s tone was strained.

  “He’d want both of us to get to safety.”

  “I’m not sure his concern extends to me,” he said fla
tly.

  I hadn’t had the opportunity to catch Edward up on the truth about Smith’s connection to our private circle. After tonight he deserved to know, but it would have to wait. “You might be surprised.”

  I left it at that.

  Edward shot me a frustrated look as he tilted his head toward the entrance. “I’ll follow you.”

  I took a deep breath and strode forward, stopping when I reached the glass doors. Pausing to gather my courage, I lifted my fist and rapped softly on the glass. The lobby was dark inside. Anyone could be waiting in there for me. My gaze darted to Smith and Edward, and I silently pled with the heavens that I wasn’t leading them into a trap. Movement inside caught my attention, and I turned back toward the clinic to discover a man emerging from the darkened corridor.

  My breath caught as I waited for him to unlock the door, but when he did, he frowned wearily at the sight of Smith. Waving his hand, he gestured for us to follow him inside. “Mrs. Price, I presume?”

  “Yes.” My mouth went dry as I answered him. I wasn’t accustomed to being called by Smith’s name. It was still too new, and it felt even more strange under these circumstances. Right now a normal newlywed was on her honeymoon, not rushing her husband in for clandestine medical treatment.

  Roget led us into a room illuminated by harsh fluorescent light and pointed to an exam table covered in thin paper. Edward lowered Smith onto it gently and stepped away as Roget burst into action. I watched him as he worked, absently chewing my fingernails as I studied him. He was older, judging from the gray peppering the hair at his temples. The stress of his profession had worn a groove between his eyes that seemed to deepen as he continued to work. I had no doubt he was a doctor and that he took his professional responsibility to Smith seriously. But at the end of the day, even good men could be bought. A fact I was determined to keep front and center from now on.

  “Will he be okay?” Edward asked, voicing the one question bouncing around in my head.

  “Right now, I need to stabilize him,” Roget barked over his shoulder, “and unless one of you is a nurse, I’d prefer to work without an audience. I’ll let you know as soon as I have more information.”

  “I’m not leaving.” I crossed my arms, realizing that I must look like a petulant child, but I didn’t care.

  “Mrs. Price, you asked for my help,” Roget reminded me, not bothering to turn away from the line he was inserting in the crook of Smith’s elbow.

  “He’s right, Mrs. Price.” Edward grabbed my arm and tugged me out of the room into the hallway.

  I ignored his obvious dig at my marital status and twisted out of his grasp. “Do you trust him?”

  “We don’t have a choice, but you already know that.” Edward stepped back, shaking his head. “It looks like we need to kill some time. How about a game of twenty questions?”

  The reckoning had arrived, and given our current situation, I couldn’t think of a single way to avoid it any longer. “Do you want to start or should I?”

  “I’ll start,” he said with a hollow laugh, “if I can decide where to start.”

  “How about with the fact that I got married?” I offered in a quiet voice.

  Edward wandered over to a line of chairs and sank into one. “I’ll admit that I was hoping there was another explanation for that one.”

  “Like what?” I asked incredulously, taking the seat beside him.

  “As far as I know, girlfriends aren’t granted decision-making rights over their boyfriend’s medical care.”

  “You’re right. Maybe I should have lied.” I slumped back, knocking my head lightly against the wall.

  “That hurts almost as much as you not telling me in the first place. How? When?”

  I closed my eyes and rubbed the bridge of my nose, in a losing attempt to delay the start of a stress headache. “In New York. Our butler married us in our hotel suite.”

  “That won’t make the society pages.” But the teasing edge that should have colored his words was absent.

  “It killed me that you weren’t there.” I reached out and grabbed his hand, needing the contact. I had to know that despite this breach of trust we were still connected. “It still doesn’t feel real.”

  “Who else knows?”

  “Clara,” I admitted with a sigh.

  “I suppose that’s fair.”

  I had known Clara for much longer than Edward, but that wasn’t the reason she had heard the news before he did. “Actually, she heard through Alexander. I guess the danger of your best friend being married to one of the most powerful men in the world is that it’s hard to keep secrets from him. He found out before she did.”

  “So basically you pissed off your best friends, hurt their feelings, married a guy we barely know, and are being chased by murderers. Am I caught up now?” This time, despite the dark tone, I caught a faint glimmer of amusement in his eyes.

  I knocked my shoulder against his. “You’ve got the gist.”

  “And yet I have so many questions.”

  “So do I.” It hurt to admit that even after learning so much more about Smith and his relationship to Hammond, new and damning information kept popping up. The man who had attacked me had been much more than a hired goon. His reason for wanting me dead had nothing to do with business. It had been deeply personal. How many more of Smith’s old friends would pop up with similar agendas?

  It wasn’t something I wanted to burden Edward with, which meant the thought, like so many others, had to be carried by me alone.

  “What else?” Edward prompted.

  Apparently he had been serious when he proposed twenty questions. “Honestly, I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”

  “How about with tonight?” he suggested. “What the hell happened? Half of that blood isn’t his.”

  “No, it isn’t.” I gulped. I owed him at least this much information, but I wasn’t certain I wanted to relive what had happened yet. “I was mugged yesterday. The guy beat me up.”

  “Christ, Belle.” Edward wrapped an arm around my shoulders. I sensed the question lingering on his tongue.

  “That’s all,” I reassured him. “He didn’t…”

  “Enough said.”

  I was grateful that he wasn’t going to make me relive every harrowing detail from that experience—or face what might have happened if it hadn’t been for the good Samaritan that called the police.

  “It was pretty bad,” I told him, feeling myself slip back into the darkness of that moment. I pressed closer to Edward, soaking in the warmth of his body.

  “Why didn’t you call me?” The chastisement was gentle, but there all the same.

  “Smith was concerned that it was more than a mugging, so he checked us into the Westminster Royal and went to look into some things.”

  “He left you there?” Edward choked out.

  “No! I called Aunt Jane.” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I froze.

  Aunt Jane.

  In the chaos, I’d forgotten to contact her. She would have gone back to the hotel, and…the thought was too horrible. I flapped my hand wildly before finally spitting out, “Mobile.”

  Edward dug into his pocket and produced his phone. He didn’t say anything as I dialed her number and counted the rings.

  She answered on the third one.

  “It’s me.” I held back a sob and forced myself to sound as normal as possible.

  “Thank God.” In the background I could hear a cacophony of noise. “The whole hotel is locked down. They won’t let me up to your room. They’ve evacuated everyone, but I can’t find you.”

  My head drooped as I searched for words that would calm her without raising suspicion. There were none. “I’m not there.”

  “I can’t say that I’m sorry to hear that.” But even as she spoke, her voice ratcheted into a higher pitch. “Where are you?”

  “I can’t tell you,” I said apologetically. Telling her would only endanger her, but it didn’t make it any easier to ke
ep the secret.

  “I see.” Jane was silent for a moment. “Are you safe? Is Edward with you?”

  Of course, she would have his number programmed into her mobile. “He is, and I am.”

  “And Smith?”

  “He’s here.” I couldn’t bear to claim he was safe, not right now. “I can’t tell you anything else, but please believe me, I will call you as soon as I can.”

  “I know, love. I’m here day or night.”

  I couldn’t stand hearing the devastation in her voice. Aunt Jane understood, she always did, but I knew I had scared her. I could only hope her fear would be short-lived and that this would be resolved sooner rather than later. “I should go.”

  “Be safe.”

  I hung up, wondering if those would be the last words she ever spoke to me. If Hammond had anything to say about it, they would be.

  When I looked up, Edward waited.

  “How much do you know about Hammond and his relationship to your brother?”

  His whole body went rigid as I spoke Hammond’s name. He cleared his throat. “Enough.”

  Knowing anything about Hammond was too much for any person to bear, particularly because with each new piece of information learned, you realized how much more you didn’t know. The man was an enigma. The only thing I didn’t question about him was the fact that he was dangerous.

  “We need to disappear,” I whispered to Edward, “and I don’t know how to make that happen.”

  “Alexander—”

  I held up a hand to cut him off. As much as I loved my best friend and trusted her judgment, I needed her husband left out of this. “He can’t know.”

  “He’s after Hammond,” Edward said as if this changed things.

  “I know.” I rubbed my forehead, searching for a delicate way to explain. “So was Smith.”

  “But then…” He trailed off as his confusion shifted into realization.

  “Your brother is so obsessed he can’t see straight. Until I know more—until I can talk to Smith, I need to disappear.”

  “I suppose I can’t ask where you’ll go,” he said in a strained voice.

  “I’ll tell you if you have to know, but it might be best if you didn’t.” I didn’t like the idea of Edward having to lie for me any more than necessary.