Royals Saga 3 Crown Me

by Geneva Lee

  “Eventually, you’ll have to sleep. They’re going to need you to take care of them.” But he didn’t fight me on it further.

  “Doctor?” I stopped him before he could exit the room. “You said she can hear me, but can she understand what I’m saying?”

  “Accounts vary from survivors. Some can recall everything from their time in the coma with vivid detail. That seems to be rare though. It’s typically almost as though the body redirects normal function to healing. Many describe it as dream-like. They recall voices and light but they can’t remember more than you or I might upon waking from a dream. But research, and my own experience, has shown that patients’ vitals change in the presence of loved ones, like we saw earlier.” His hand gripped the handle of the door. “There’s only one thing that every patient I’ve had come out of a coma state has shared. They all felt trapped—lost, if you will—until something called them back. If Clara is caught in darkness, she needs you to lead her to the light.”

  He left me alone, but I no longer felt the crippling isolation that had consumed me in the waiting room. They were with me. I knew that.

  “Clara.” Her name fell from my lips—an intonement rather than a command. “I wish I could demand you’d wake up, but we both know you can be stubborn.”

  I paused, drawing a breath for strength. “I love that about you, poppet. It drives me wild when you challenge me. Maybe that’s why I can’t keep my hands off of you.”

  “I hope she’s like you,” I continued. “Headstrong and brave. I know she will be, because she already takes after you. I didn’t believe I could want anyone—need anyone—until you told me off that day for smoking at the Oxford and Cambridge Club. I couldn’t even tell you that I didn’t actually smoke, because I enjoyed how sexy you were when you were irritated. Before you, I never understood want. And I never could have believed I’d want to bring a child into this world.”

  “The doctor told me to lead you out of the darkness, but how am I supposed to do that? You are my soul, Clara. You healed me, and I shut you out to punish myself, to seek retribution. I am darkness. How can I be your light?”

  Leaning forward, I covered the soft swell of her belly with my other hand. “I want this life. I choose this life. I want you. I want her.”

  “I don’t know if I can bring you home. But I’m not leaving you—either of you. I’m never letting go again,” I vowed.

  I lowered my head to our clasped hands and repeated my promises until my mouth was too dry to speak—until my quiet words became silent prayers.

  “Get. Some. Rest.” Belle managed to make a simple statement into an order. She kicked her flats off and folded her legs under her. “Have you been out of this room today?”

  “He hasn’t been out of this room this week,” Edward tattled, drawing a chair next to Clara’s best friend.

  Both turned and stared me down.

  “Did you choreograph that?” I asked. The truth was that having them here made this ordeal easier to bear. After a week of remaining in stable condition, but with no further signs of progress, I was losing hope. Their presence provided a distraction from my inability to do anything for my wife and daughter.

  “Don’t you have a country to run?” Belle asked pointedly.

  “Thankfully,” I nodded in Edward’s direction, “I have him for that. It’s a largely ceremonial job anyway.”

  In fact, it wasn’t. Edward provided a buffer to the barrage of inquiries and requests stacking up in my absence, but soon a decision would have to be made.

  And I knew where my rightful place was.

  I gripped Clara’s hand tighter.

  “Just be thankful I got him to start showering,” Edward told her.

  I’d finally convinced him to stop bringing me button-downs and trousers. I drew less attention from other patients in a t-shirt and jeans. My free hand ran across the scruff on my jawline. The five minutes a day he’d convinced me to leave her side hadn’t allotted time for a shave.

  “You’re just going to have to deal with a beard,” I whispered to her.

  Belle and Edward did an excellent job of pretending not to notice when I spoke quietly to her.

  “It’s two,” Belle said ominously.

  “Batten the hatches,” Edward added.

  I’d abused my power by insisting the two of them had twenty-four hour access to Clara’s room, and they’d taken shifts, slowly perfecting the art of being here enough to be supportive while still knowing when I needed a moment alone with my wife. The same couldn’t be said for the Bishops. I’d tried not to take it personally that Clara’s vitals only shifted in the presence of her mother, especially after the doctor quietly informed me that it appeared to be a sign of duress. Madeline had arrived with luggage, and I’d promptly had Norris arrange for nearby accommodations—and for them to be subject to regular visitation hours.

  Clara’s mother arrived in the room, fluttering around with the chaotic presence of a ruffled hen. She snatched up the chart clipped to the foot of the bed and pored over the notes, unleashing a barrage of questions.

  “Has she shown signs of awareness? How is the baby’s heart rate? Have you asked about another ultrasound?”

  “Mother,” Lola interceded, trying valiantly to rein her in. It was a lost cause, but I appreciated it nonetheless. Clara’s sister could be a touch abrasive, but after a week of keeping Madeline in check, we’d begun to bond.

  Madeline took up residence on the other side of the bed and stroked Clara’s forehead softly. “Wake up, baby girl.”

  Despite the frenzy she brought with her each day, I couldn’t fault her commitment to her daughter. The overly-coiffed woman I’d been introduced was absent, replaced by a mother in trainers with a ponytail.

  “I’m going to speak with the doctor,” she announced. “We’ve been asking for that ultrasound for days.”

  She had her daughter’s best interests at heart, but she also wanted to control the situation. I’d allowed small requests to be met. However, things were quickly coming to a head between us.

  “There’s no need,” I stopped her before she could reach the door. “I’ve spoken with him, and we’ve decided it was medically unnecessary.”

  I had decided that. Dr. Sullivan had been more than willing to perform the procedure.

  “This is ridiculous,” she fumed. “Is it too much to ask for an assurance that my grandbaby is healthy?”

  “They’re monitoring the baby’s heart rate. Everything is fine,” I assured her, noting that Clara’s blood pressure was elevated.

  “I’m sure the doctor has a reason,” Lola said, crossing to her mother and leading her back into the room.

  “It’s not unreasonable,” she rattled on, and Clara’s pulse jumped. “I have a right to know that my daughter is healthy. She would never keep me from seeing an ultrasound.”

  “She hadn’t even told you about the baby,” Lola finally snapped. She planted her hands on her hips. “She’s five months pregnant and you just found out, so stop assuming you know what she wants!”

  “Don’t speak to your mother in that tone of voice,” Harold admonished her to the shock of everyone in the room. Most of the time I forgot he was even there.

  Lola attempted a response, but he cut her off.

  “That’s exactly the point. This family can’t continue to lie to one another.” But instead of sounding angry, he sounded hurt. He ran a hand over his thinning patch of hair.

  “That’s rich coming from you,” Lola said coldly.

  The heart rate monitor beeped frantically, and my eyes flickered up.

  “We all make mistakes—” Harold began.

  “Except Clara,” Lola interrupted.

  “Enough!” I roared, standing so quickly that my chair flipped over. “Everyone out.”

  “Alexander! She might hear you.” Madeline clutched her chest.

  I advanced toward them, finger pointed at the door. “Out!”

  “I hardly—”

&nbs
p; “Out!”

  Edward and Belle took the cue and started herding them all to the door. I caught my brother by the arm and whispered, “Get Norris.”

  Norris appeared moments later, stepping in and shutting the door swiftly behind him.

  “One Bishop at a time,” I ordered.

  He chuckled appreciatively. “Understood. How is she?”

  “Holding on.” I’d been giving him the same information all week. I didn’t have any more information to give him, and it shredded me to know it.

  “She’s strong,” he reminded as he took his leave, “and so are you.”

  Normally the silence that echoed in the room chipped away at the last remnants of my faith, but right now I welcomed it. Glancing back, I discovered Clara’s heart rate had returned to a steady rhythm.

  “You still like it when I take control, poppet?” I said to her.

  Her lips twitched, and I froze. It had been my imagination, just a symptom of too little sleep and too much desperation.

  Still…

  Sitting at the edge of the bed, I took her hand again. “Was that a smile? You do like it when I get bossy.”

  This time I knew I didn’t imagine it. I swallowed hard, still resisting the possibility that this actually meant something.

  I moved closer and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She sighed.

  “Do you remember the story of Sleeping Beauty?” I whispered. “Wake up, poppet.”

  I brushed a kiss over her lips, but she remained still. Being a gentleman was getting me nowhere. Of course, it never had with her. Clara’s body responded to touch—to dominance—but given her current condition, I’d have to rely on suggestion.

  “I’m not Prince Charming and I’m not asking.”

  Her lashes fluttered.

  “Maybe I need to find other ways to wake you up,” I suggested, dipping my lips to kiss her neck. I nudged the hospital gown down with my chin, and continued my descent down her bare shoulder. “I’ve got something better than true love’s kiss I could try.”

  “I’m pretty sure a prick got me into this trouble in the first place,” she croaked past dry lips.

  My arms were around her before I could think better of it, pulling her close to me until she winced and batted me away. But I wouldn’t release her entirely.

  “Water?” she asked hoarsely.

  I dove into action, spilling water all over the tray table next to her bed, before finally bringing it to her lips.

  “Whatever else you want, poppet.”

  She groaned and dropped her head to her shoulder, staring at me shyly. “Eggs and toast and butter and jam. I’m starving.”

  I hit the call button and she grabbed my hand.

  “And then I’d like you to tell me the rest of that story, but only if they live happily ever after,” she whispered. Her eyes were wide and hopeful.

  “They did,” I promised. “King, Queen, and Princess.”

  “Princess?” her voice piqued with surprise.

  “Princess,” I confirmed, finding her lips again. “A beautiful, perfect, princess. Clara, I—”

  But I was interrupted as the nurse bustled into the room and cried out in shock at the scene in front of her. Clara laughed tiredly and I tucked myself beside her for the few precious moments I had before they’d be poking and prodding her.

  She twisted toward me, love shining brightly in her eyes. I had so much to tell her, but it could wait. We had all the time in the world.

  I stretched my legs out, pressing them against the floorboard, and savored the exquisite soreness in my limbs. After being stuck in a hospital bed for a week and a half, I relished even the smallest movements. Few things in this world felt better, I realized, than a hot shower, shaved legs, and brushed teeth. Well, I could actually think of a few, but considering the swarm of security accompanying me back to London I decided not to think about that.

  “Hungry?” Alexander asked, taking my hand. His other stayed firmly planted on the steering wheel of a brand new Land Rover Discovery. He was dressed down for the drive home in a tight, black shirt that hugged his athletic form and showed off his coiled biceps. He flashed me a quick smile that made my stomach flip.

  “Have something in mind, X?” I said suggestively, leaning across the center console.

  “Uh-uh, Your Majesty. You are on bed rest,” he informed me.

  “I’m not Queen yet.”

  “You’re my Queen.”

  I melted a little, but I couldn’t be sure if that was from what he’d said or how sexually frustrated I was. The last few days before my release had been full of teasing kisses and double entendres, but he’d held back, never allowing things to get past innocent flirtations. “The doctor said rest,” I corrected him.

  “Poppet, do not tempt me, or you won’t be getting any rest at all.” His eyes darted to check his blind spots as he took an exit.

  I suspected that he was being more protective than he let on. “The doctor said sex was fine.”

  “I’m sure sex usually is fine for most people.” He winked at me, flashing a wicked smile. “But that’s not how I do it. That’s not how we do it. Don’t tell me you’ve already forgotten?”

  Forgotten? Definitely not. I was trying not to remember. After a few more days stuck in that hospital bed, I was restless and hormonal. Between visitors and doctors, we’d barely had a moment alone. I was ready to be home with my husband.

  “What do you think of the car?” he asked.

  “Don’t think I don’t realize you’re changing the topic,” I accused. I gave the inside a cursory glance. “It’s okay.”

  The truth was that it was sexy as hell. Tan leather seating and polished woodgrain trim. Not to mention that the passenger seat actually had a massage function. It was incredible, but it still couldn’t compare to the sinful man driving it.

  I’d never actually been in a car with him behind the wheel before, and I hadn’t pressed the issue when he slid into the driver’s seat.

  “Okay?” he repeated. “First of all, you better like it, because its safety features are unmatched and there’s plenty of room for the baby.”

  I turned to stare at the five seats behind us and looked back at him. “There’s room for a small army.”

  “I thought we might need the space in the future.”

  I didn’t miss the suggestive tone of his voice. The hand resting on my belly rubbed my small bump, hoping our daughter felt as safe and loved as I did in this moment.

  “You’re quiet,” he pointed out.

  “I’m happy,” I murmured. My gaze turned dreamily to the scenery outside the window. “Take me home.”

  He raised my hand to his lips. “Your wish is my command.”

  Alexander’s hands stayed clamped over my eyes as he led me down the hall of Clarence House toward our bedroom. My anticipation mounted with each step, but despite my pleas he wouldn’t give me a clue as to what he had planned.

  “Almost there,” he promised as he turned me gently to the left instead of the right.

  “We aren’t going to our bedroom?” I asked, confused.

  “You really have a one-track mind, poppet,” he whispered in my ear. “Constantly trying to get me naked and in bed.”

  “You’re evil,” I told him.

  He laughed. “You’re impatient.”

  I was impatient. After an hour stuck in traffic next to him, my body ached for his. I was fairly certain I could convince him to see my side regarding the bed rest issue. I just had to get him alone first.

  “Here we are.” He released me and rested his palm on the small of my back as I blinked.

  “Oh.” Tears prickled in my eyes as I absorbed my surroundings. The walls had been covered in a champagne wallpaper that glistened elegantly in the afternoon sun streaming in to the expansive space. Pale pink silk swathed the large windows that overlooked the gardens of Clarence House. Alexander led me to a large tufted chair that had been positioned next to a fireplace with a carved ma
ntle. When I sat down, it tilted slightly, and I realized it was actually a rocker. I swallowed against the emotions welling in my throat. An ornate dollhouse sat in the corner surrounded by stuffed animals and baby dolls. A rocking horse rested parallel to my own seat. And on the far wall, under a canopy of lace, a gilded crib waited for our baby.

  It was more than I could have imagined. More than I would have allowed myself to imagine a short while ago.

  “Do you like it?” he asked.

  I looked up to him, struck once more by his brutal and powerful bearing. He was a force of nature that had swept me away long before I’d realized I was in danger of falling for him. But he was so much more than that, and I knew now that time would continue to reveal more of the beautiful soul that lay hidden under his commanding presence. He had conquered me, claiming my body and stealing my heart, and now I knew he would cherish me as I did him for the rest of our lives.

  “How?” I asked. “You never left my side.”

  “That is the power of a smartphone and a brother with good taste,” he admitted. “Although I did okay everything.”

  “You told me you weren’t romantic,” I accused, swiping at the happy tears streaming down my cheeks.

  “I suppose that means you like it?”

  “I love it.” I sprung to my feet, briefly wondering how much longer I’d be able to do that as I patted my growing belly. Wandering around the room, I discovered an abundance of small touches that doubled the ache of joy in my heart. A vase engraved with the crest of the Oxford and Cambridge Club held a bunch of petite pink roses. A tiny but exquisite replica of the London Eye perched on a shelf next to her crib. Next to it rested a candid shot of Alexander and me kissing on the night he asked me to marry him.

  “I thought,” I said slowly, searching for the right words through the mist of emotions clouding my thoughts, “that I would never feel at home here, and although it does still feel like a dream, I can see it now. I can see us here. All three of us.”

  Alexander caught me from behind and wrapped his arms around my waist, crossing his hands protectively around my belly. “I understand. I spent my whole life in places like this, and I never felt as though I belonged either. But now I know. Home isn’t a place, poppet. Not for me. You are my home.”