by Geneva Lee
There was a moment of squirming silence while the journalists regrouped.
“There’s a vocal minority in Parliament who would like to see the monarchy abolished. How will you respond if support for the initiative gains momentum?” an intrepid man called out.
“God save the King,” I replied, earning a wave of laughter. The dry response shifted the line of questioning to topics sure to produce amusing sound bites. I did my best to stay clever and steer things away from the people in my life. When I finally took my leave, Williams met me at the door.
“All charm and no concrete answers—you were born for politics.”
I supposed it was meant as a compliment. “I was born into politics.”
“I guess you never have had much of a choice,” he mused as we made our way to the residential rooms. “Your destiny was decided for you.”
I thought of Clara and my life before I met her. Every moment of my life propelled me to her, and yet I’d tried to push her away. In the end, we’d decided to fight for one another. That had been a choice—as had my decision to take the throne. It had been a personal decision rather than a forced one. Becoming king allowed me to search for those responsible for the attacks on my wife. In the end, there had always been choices—hard ones. “I’ve chosen my destiny.”
“As have I.” Williams paused to say goodbye before returning to his office.
He still had a day of work ahead of him, and I had my whole world ahead of me. I entered the small living suite our hosts had offered us quietly, afraid to wake a sleeping toddler. Instead, a babbling ball of joy toppled toward me as Elizabeth misstepped. In one swift move, I scooped my daughter into my arms.
“I’m sorry, Your Majesty!” Penny, the ever-fussing nursemaid we’d brought along, rushed over to save me, but I held my little girl. The poor woman couldn’t fathom that a man would want to care for his child. If it killed me, I would show her that I wasn’t simply any man.
Clara looked up from her book and rolled her eyes at the scene developing before her, but she didn’t step in. Later I’d be more than happy to spank her for being mischievous. Her lips curled into a knowing smirk as if she had read my mind again.
“Penny, why don’t you take a few minutes for yourself,” I advised her.
“Sir?” She stared at me as if this was a test.
“I’d like to be alone with my family,” I clarified.
She continued to look distraught, but she curtsied and took her leave.
“Is it so hard to believe that I want to hold my daughter?” I grumbled when we were alone.
“I suppose most kings are interested in furthering their bloodline, not building blocks.” Clara’s eyes lingered on the two of us as I settled onto the carpet with Elizabeth, who immediately pulled herself up and began practicing her latest trick: walking.
“Clever girl,” I praised her. “Already walking.”
“She’s nearly fifteen months old,” Clara pointed out, even as she dropped onto the floor beside me. Soon she was as captivated by Elizabeth’s antics as I was. My hand found hers on the carpet. We stayed like that until a familiar form appeared in the doorway. Norris looked as proud as any grandfather as he surveyed my family, but when I lifted my gaze to his, I immediately knew something was wrong.
“I’ll just be a few minutes,” I murmured to Clara, brushing a kiss over her forehead even as it wrinkled in concern. Norris had given us a fair amount of space during our limited family time. We both knew that his sudden appearance meant news out of England. Getting to my feet, I crossed the room to him, Elizabeth taking dozens of tiny steps to try to catch up with me.
“There’s been a development,” Norris said under his breath. We both glanced toward Clara who was watching us with wary eyes. She didn’t like to be kept out of the loop, a fact which had been a sore point since the day we married. Her contention that we should keep no secrets from each other was valid, but I couldn’t bear to burden her with some of the knowledge I carried. She scrambled up and caught Elizabeth as I stepped into the hallway with Norris behind me. I met my wife’s eyes for a moment, hoping she understood my need for privacy, before I closed the door.
“Is it about Hammond?” Nearly a year after his murder and we were no closer to the answers that might lead me to our common enemy. Whoever had murdered him hadn’t done so as a favor to me. That was becoming clearer with each stone we turned over.
“No. I’m not even certain what it means.”
“You’re going to have to give me more to go on,” I informed him. It wasn’t like Norris to be mysterious, which meant that whatever news he had to deliver wasn’t good.
“The team combing through your father’s personal effects uncovered something.”
“That would seem to be good news.” When I’d asked for a discreet team to dig further into my father’s personal life, I’d hoped to find links to the people responsible for his death. Whatever secrets he’d kept could be the key to discovering the truth about what happened that day.
“I’m afraid it only raises more questions.” Norris looked torn and my pulse ratcheted up as adrenaline surged through my blood.
“What did they find?” I forced the question past gritted teeth.
“Not what,” Norris corrected gently. “Who.”
“Who?” I repeated. “They found a person?”
“They found your brother.”
“Edward?” I asked even as sensation of vertigo gripped me.
“No.” Norris paused to allow what he was saying to sink in.
“I have another brother?” My words were so strangled I barely recognized my own voice.
Norris drew a deep breath as if steeling both of us for what came out next. “It seems you do, indeed.”
2
London
The Christmas season was proving to be less a blessing than a headache for Belle’s fledgling company. While the business had seen exponential growth in recent months, subscriptions had tripled in the first week of December alone. Thanks, in part, to a number of editorials her partner had managed to arrange in major magazines, but also due to the number of upcoming holiday parties. It seemed that Belle’s brain child, Bless—a couture clothing rental company that kept its clients’ closets stocked with the latest high end fashion—was headed for success. The trouble was that their operation was quickly outgrowing their office and their two-woman staff.
Lola, her partner and her best friend’s little sister, appeared before her with a clipboard. Unlike Belle, who had paired a creamy cashmere jumper with tight, black trousers, Lola was dressed to the nines in a body skimming black dress that stopped far too short for propriety. The leggy brunette had mitigated this fact by wearing opaque black tights and suede boots that came to her knees. She looked as though she might dash from this meeting straight onto the runway. Her make-up was perfect down to the brilliant ruby lipstick she sported. Belle, on the other hand, hadn’t bothered with anything but a little mascara and lip gloss. She was too fair and her lashes too blonde to get away without it. She supposed it was a perk of being married that she no longer felt the need to get dolled up every morning, even if she routinely did.
“I leave from New York right after Christmas.” Lola began to rattle off her schedule with such speed that Belle redirected her focus so that she caught all the details.
Lola was the face of their fledgling company. She had pushed Belle to be the one to sit for interviews and attend photo shoots, but the founder had decided against it. In a way, Lola was famous in her own right. Whereas her sister was soft and welcoming, Lola was polished with an edge. She was a formidable business woman, and, in the end, it proved to be a marketing coup. Lola Bishop was an it-girl almost overnight. Of course, it didn't hurt that her sister was the Queen of England. What woman wouldn't take fashion advice from her?
It had garnered her a little more attention than they'd planned, however. Lola had found herself the subject of tabloid fodder ever since. If she walked next to a
man in public, all the gossip columns speculated if he was the love of her life. Only Belle knew the truth. Lola had sworn off men for the time being, preferring instead to keep her nose to the grindstone and build an empire. There just wasn't time for dating when a girl was out to rule the world. Thankfully, she didn't mind the limelight, which left Belle free to focus on building the business the way she had wanted. It also made her more comfortable.
She’d had no idea when she got involved with Smith Price that her life would change forever. While many good things had come out of it—like the business and their marriage—Belle had also been the target of several attacks aimed to keep her husband under his crooked employer’s thumb. They were free of that now, but she was more than happy to stay behind closed doors.
“I also need you to look at those resumes.” Lola pointed to the stack of papers she'd printed from an online search. They’d been sitting there for the better part of the week. Apparently, she felt it would take pointing them out before Belle would acknowledge their existence.
“Wow,” Belle said, picking up the stack. “It looks like more than a few people are interested in working with us.”
“Those are just the contenders,” Lola told her proudly.
Belle sifted through them, trying to find the motivation to look.
“We have to hire people,” Lola reminded her.
Belle knew that, but it didn't make it any easier. With more people came more responsibility. Neither Belle nor Lola needed a salary, so there were many months where they'd gone without one in order to continue to grow the business. Lola had her trust fund to fall back on, and Belle had Smith's bank account. Adding employees felt a little like willingly putting themselves in shackles. They'd be responsible for other people's welfare. Not to mention that Belle trusted Lola. That wasn't always an easy dynamic to achieve.
Lola sighed, sensing she was getting nowhere, and gathered her sleek, brunette hair into a pony tail. “I'm going to go grab curry. You want any?”
Before Belle could respond, the door to their studio office opened. There was only one person who had a key to this office besides her and Lola. Belle didn't even have to see him before her body responded. Her nipples beaded tightly beneath her cashmere sweater and she grew damp between her legs.
Lola cast a mischievous glance at her. “On second thought, I think I'll take an actual lunch break today.”
Smith grinned as he stepped into the room. Clearly, he had overheard her.
“Take an extra long lunch,” he advised.
Belle shifted in her seat at the sight of her husband. He never ceased to have this effect on her. With his dark hair that glinted in the light and the stubble on his jaw line, he could have been a model instead of a lawyer. The weather in London was particularly chilly, and his black cashmere coat hugged his body perfectly. He'd turned the collar up against the wind, and Belle could barely see the knot of his tie peeking behind the buttons. She'd always had a particular fondness for his ties, mostly because he often used them for devious purposes that led to hours of pleasure.
“I'll see you two later,” Lola said knowingly. She was smiling as she left, but Belle thought she caught a hint of jealousy on her pretty face. Maybe Lola Bishop wasn't as opposed to finding love as she pretended.
“Do you have any friends?” Belle mused out loud. Even after being married for the better part of a year, she'd only met a few of Smith's acquaintances.
Smith gave a low laugh that sent a tremble racing through her. “I have terrible taste in friends, remember?”
“On second thought, forget I asked,” she said.
“Are you planning to play matchmaker?” He glanced over his shoulder at the door Lola had just exited. Was she really so transparent? Maybe her husband simply knew her that well.
“I guess I get sentimental this time of the year.” She didn't have to explain herself. They were about to celebrate the second of their two wedding anniversaries. True, they'd only been married for a year, but they had been married twice. They had eloped in November and been remarried with their family and friends by their side last New Year's Eve. One anniversary was legal and the other personal. Still, she couldn't bear not to celebrate both as each meant so much to her.
“I think Lola's not going to have a hard time finding men who are interested,” Smith said as he slipped his coat off his broad shoulders and placed it on a hook by the door.
It hung like a streak of black contrast against the white walls. They'd kept the office of Bless purposefully clean and modern. Belle had insisted that the showcase be on the clothes. Now they had had to start renting out a warehouse, but they still had several racks of samples available for their high-end clientèle, the kind they might cater to in person.
To her surprise, Smith continued undressing, removing his suit jacket. She could spot the broad coils of his muscles through his linen shirtsleeves.
“What are you doing here anyway?” she asked, not bothering to squash the hopefulness in her voice.
“I thought I'd grab some lunch,” he responded.
“Is that an invitation?” She leaned forward, knowing that her low-cut jumper would put her breasts on display for his enjoyment. His eyes swept down to take them in appreciatively, and then he prowled forward until he was lording over her. With only the desk between them, she'd begun to wonder what pleasure was in store.
“Actually,” he explained, “I was trying to decide what I was in the mood for. Curry didn't sound good. Italian? Not what I wanted. As it turns out, there's only one thing I had an appetite for.”
Belle ran her tongue over her dry lips to wet them. The discussion had her mind focused on his mouth.
“Then I realized what I wanted,” he continued as he circled the desk. Holding out his hands, he waited for her to take them.
Belle knew what it meant to place herself under Smith’s control. She craved it, and now was no exception. He helped her to her feet and then immediately swept her into his arms. Lowering her to the desk, he shoved her sweater up to reveal her breasts.
“No bra, beautiful?” He dipped his head to catch her nipple in his mouth. A moan escaped her as he sucked hungrily. When he released it, the pert mounds were swollen and heavy. “Do you like it when the air hits your tits? You like that, don’t you? Because you’re dirty.”
She breathed a yes, and he rewarded her by paying homage to her other breast. Smith knew exactly how to elicit a response from her. As such, she spent most of the time, even when they were apart, humming with want. He’d been right about why she hadn’t worn a bra. Part of her was trained to keep her lingerie to a minimum. If Smith caught her without her bra or knickers, he rewarded her. But she also needed the contact. The sensation of the soft knit brushing against her nipples satisfied some of her need until she could have him.
“This was exactly what I needed,” he growled, trailing from the valley between her breasts downward. He hooked his thumbs in the waistband and yanked her pants off along with her knickers. “I needed to devour you.”
There was nothing gentle about the way he buried his tongue between her slick seam. Belle cried out as it flicked across her aching clit. Her hands shot out, searching for purchase. She held on as he delved deeper. It wasn’t enough though. She arched up, wanting more of him. His arms caught her around the waist and pushed her down. Belle groaned in frustration and kicked her legs over his shoulders. If he wanted complete control, he should have tied her up. Smith nipped the sensitive nub of her clit in response. It was enough to send her over the edge. Her thighs clamped around his head, trying to push him away and hold him close at the same time. When it became too much, she pulled at his hair, but the suction on her engorged bud increased. He wasn’t satisfied.
He never knows when to stop. It was the only thought she could process. Her body fought against the overwhelming sensations as they crowded through her. But with each wild spasm, he took her closer to the brink again. This time when she reached it, pleasure quaked through
her and she cried out, completely overcome. When Belle was finally able to open her eyes, she found Smith grinning between her legs.
“I’m stuck,” he informed her. That’s when she realized her hands were still clenching his hair in a vice grip.
“Sorry,” she murmured hazily as she willed her fingers to loosen. It took a concerted effort with her body fighting her. He’d unmoored her, setting her adrift in a chaotic sea, and her mind wanted the assurance of an anchor. As soon as he was freed, Smith took the seat behind the desk. Then he scooped her onto his lap and held her close.
This is one of the perks of being your own boss, she thought. If she wanted to spend the afternoon being fucked by her husband on top of her workspace, there would be no human resources department to fire her. Once they hired more employees, her rendezvouses with Smith would have to wait. She frowned at the unwelcome thought. Lola always knew exactly when to hightail it out of the office. Perhaps, she would get lucky and the new staff members would have a similar sense of self-preservation. If not, Bless might have to find a new home where Belle could have an office with doors.
“What are you thinking about, beautiful?” Smith’s husky voice called her from her thoughts.
“The future,” she whispered, her words colored with happiness.
“Like round two?” he asked.
“Slightly farther than that,” she said dryly. If she only thought that far ahead, she’d never get anything done.
“That far? I hope I’m part of the vision.” There was an earnestness to the statement that surprised her.
“Forever,” she promised him. Her fingers were still trembling as she brushed her palm down his cheek. There had been dark moments when she thought she might lose him. Those memories were still too raw for her, so whenever he made any mention of what the future might hold she felt an overwhelming possessiveness take hold of her.