by Geneva Lee
“I know who you are,” he said with a laugh, even as his face crinkled with concern. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. It’s just…” I held a finger to my lips and placed my other hand on my stomach. “Please don’t tell.”
I couldn’t understand it, but for some reason it felt like I could trust him.
“Your secret is safe with me,” he whispered as Brex and a few other people surrounded us. It was made more awkward by the fact that we were still half inside the loo.
“I’ll take that for you,” one of my men said, gesturing to the helmet. I hoped it was replaceable.
“Are you sure you’re not going to need it?” Anderson asked me.
“I hope not.”
After today, I definitely wasn’t going to be able to keep this under wraps. All of our security team members were carefully screened, but they were also human. Plus, I imagined a few members of the Silverstone staff had caught what happened. But when I looked up, I was surprised to see that Anderson’s was the only new face in the crowd.
“If you want to…” He gestured to the bathroom.
I probably looked like a mess. I nodded gratefully.
“This probably wasn’t how you imagined today would go,” I guessed as he stepped out and held the door open for me.
“I definitely won’t forget it,” he admitted as he closed the door behind me.
I did my best to freshen up, thankful that I’d thought to throw a pack of gum into my purse. There was no disguising the sickly hue of my skin or the slight sheen of sweat on my forehead. So much for a pregnancy glow. Finally, when I accepted there was nothing more I could do, I went back outside. The sooner we got the official invitation and the press conference over with, the better.
Belle was waiting outside the door when I exited, her arms crossed, a smug look on her face. She rounded on me the second I was out. Brex and the security team had created a perimeter around the area, giving me more than the usual amount of room. They were probably afraid I would splatter them in the next round of morning sickness.
“Did you really vomit in Anderson Stone’s helmet?” she asked, a hysterical edge to her voice.
“Don’t be a gossip,” I told her, cheeks flaming.
“Oh my God, you did!”
“I’m not speaking to you.”
“Is he hot?” she whispered as we moved away from the restroom.
“Belle, I had my face inside his helmet, I didn’t really pay attention to him.” That wasn’t exactly true. I had gotten a look at Anderson. He wasn’t my type exactly—tall and blond with a lean figure and broad shoulders—but he was charming. He’d barely flinched when I’d ruined his racing helmet. Who said chivalry was dead?
“I know, I know. You only have eyes for Alexander.”
“Are you telling me you have eyes for someone other than Smith?” I hissed under my breath as we reached the group.
“Of course not,” she said, sounding offended. Her eyes lit up when they landed on Anderson, who was busy talking with Georgia. I wondered if Smith’s friend would inform him that Belle was checking someone out.
“I hear my best friend puked in your helmet,” she called to him. He turned to us both in surprise. A smirk as slow and sweet as honey split his lips when he saw me.
“Anderson, allow me to introduce you to my former best friend, Belle Price.” I emphasized the last name for Belle’s benefit. She seemed to be a tad starstruck. Maybe Smith was a big enough racing fan not to care, but I could imagine what Alexander would say if he saw the look Anderson was giving us.
Anderson, held out his hand to Belle. She took it and he kissed it with a panty-dropping wink. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Anders.”
“And she’s married,” I informed him.
His gaze swiveled to me and he shrugged, his eyes lingering a bit too long on me. “All the good ones are.”
I wasn’t certain whose marital status we were referring to anymore. There was something about him—something I couldn’t place—that left me slightly dazed. Maybe it was his celebrity status or his shameless flirtation. Maybe I just needed to get out of the palace more.
“So, this is a secret?” he asked, tipping his head to my midsection, which was still hidden beneath my coat.
“I’d really appreciate it if you wouldn’t tell anyone,” I said. Somehow I already knew he wouldn’t.
“I won’t,” he promised. “But when it does come out, when can I expect the blessed event?”
“Want a leg up in the betting pools?” I guessed.
“You can’t blame a guy for trying. Easy payday.” He waved it off, shaking his head with a laugh at my disapproving glare. “I’m only kidding. Never bet on anything in my life.”
“Not even a race?” Belle asked, a note of disbelief in her voice.
“Why bet on a sure thing? What’s the fun in that?”
“I assume you’re referring to yourself,” I said.
“Of course I am.”
I couldn’t help myself. “Oh, I was just wondering, because I’ve only seen you crash.”
“Come back to the track when you’re feeling better, I’ll show you what I mean.” Anders stretched out his hand and I took it, expecting him to shake it like we were placing a bet. Instead he held it for a moment, then squeezed. I pulled away, feeling oddly guilty. “I hope you’re looking forward to the games.”
Henry, who’d been talking with a group of officials, called over to us, “They’re ready. The press is assembled.”
“Guess we better do this,” Anders said. “See you out there.”
Belle spun toward me as soon as his back was turned and mouthed one word: wow.
“I’m glad we’re both married,” she whispered to me when we were out of earshot. “I think that boy could be trouble.”
I couldn’t have agreed more.
CHAPTER TEN
ALEXANDER
“Alexander,” Norris’s tone stopped me in my tracks. “You’re being paranoid.”
I stared at him, then considered his position. I’d damn near worn a hole through the carpet in my sitting room. Clara was scheduled to be home an hour ago, but she hadn’t arrived yet. That wasn’t what worried me, though. She’d left early this morning, as it was a long drive with the team to Silverstone. It said something about the current demands on my attention that I’d only realized an hour after she left where she was going and what that might mean. A call to Brex confirmed my suspicions. I’d reassigned him to watch over her, but somewhere along the lines the communications had failed. The left hand didn’t know what the right was doing.
“You’re telling me it’s a coincidence she went to see him?” I glanced at the clock, twisting my wedding band around my finger. How could he believe that?
“There is such a thing,” Norris said dryly. “You can stop checking the time. Brex told you they were held up.”
“The press conference ran late, I can accept that. What I can’t accept is that no one told me she was going to meet Anderson Stone.” My fist shot out, seeking relief for the energy building inside me. Norris caught it before it hit the wall.
“Do you want to explain to your wife why there’s a hole in the wall?” He released my fist and crossed his arms behind his back like he was now on official alert. That was probably best for me and my walls.
I pulled back, rubbing my fist in my palm. He had a point. Clara wouldn’t be happy to come home and discover I’d been punching things. What would I tell her when she asked why? I didn’t know what to say to her now.
“I can assure you that no one, outside of Brexton, knows there’s any relationship between you and Anderson Stone. I’ve seen to it.” There was no room to doubt him. Norris’s word was his vow, and he took his responsibility to me as seriously as anyone could.
I trusted Norris with my life and, more importantly, my family, but the last few years had taught me not to make assumptions. It had taken considerable effort to trace my father’s payments to Anderson
’s mother. Was that why he believed no one would bother?
“So the first invitation to the Sovereign Games just happens to go to my father’s bastard son?” I asked.
Norris flinched slightly at the barb. I understood what he was on about. It wasn’t Anderson’s fault my father had kept this dirty secret for years. Anderson himself didn’t even know.
“If someone knew, the press would,” Norris said. He hadn’t budged from his spot by the door even as I continued to track across the room and back again.
“That’s comforting,” I muttered, rubbing my neck. I’d probably strained it checking the clock every other second.
“We were always going to have to contend with the fact that your brother is growing quite famous,” Norris began.
“Yes, we were,” I allowed. “I didn’t expect to send my wife to contend with it though.”
“May I ask…” he trailed off significantly.
I told Norris everything—eventually. It hadn’t seemed important until today that Clara wasn’t in on the particulars of this situation. “No, she doesn’t know. I mean, she knows I found out I have a brother. I didn’t think I needed to tell her who it was.”
Norris’s eyebrows shot up, but he did a good job rearranging his face back to a normal state as quickly as possible. “And why is that?”
“Are you my bodyguard or my therapist?” I snapped.
“Sometimes, it feels like I’m a bit of both,” he said evenly, and a wave of guilt swept over me. Norris didn’t dwell on the slight. “I think we’re dealing with an unusual set of circumstances and nothing more. There’s no intelligence to suggest that this is anything more than Anderson Stone, a rising star in the racing world, receiving an invitation from the crown to participate in an international charity event. You need to accept that.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Then I suggest you tell your wife the truth—the whole truth,” he amended quickly.
I sighed and crossed to the mantle, where a number of framed family portraits smiled back at me. Clara was in each one: holding Elizabeth, carrying a rose outside the London Eye, smiling next to a Christmas tree. She was the common denominator of not only the photos, but every memory I cherished. Hell, of every breath I took. But it wasn’t just Clara. It was a radiant, full-of-life Clara. I’d seen less and less of her over the last few weeks. It might even have been months. I tried to fool myself, writing off the change in her mood as early pregnancy. But that was a lie.
Edward said I was crushing her. Was that all I could offer her—a love that broke her? Every time I tried to trust that everything would be okay, life seemed to send me a warning sign.
I needed to know more about Anderson. I needed to know why he had been chosen. I’d heard he was a gifted racer. I’d been following his career since Brexton had uncovered who he was. Part of me had cheered him on, but I’d kept my distance. It was safer—for both of us. All of that cautious interest had vanished, replaced now by a creeping sense of dread. Nothing in my life was a coincidence; I had learned that the hard way.
“Maybe I should tell her,” I admitted, “but I need to know more first. I want you to look into this. Find out who’s in charge of the invitation list.”
Norris opened his mouth as if he was going to respond when Clara flew into the room, dropping her bag at the door.
Her cheeks were rosy, her neck still wrapped tightly in a scarf, and her perfect body hidden under too many layers for my taste. She rushed to me, throwing herself in my arms and kissing me hungrily. Pulling back, she let out a giggle when she saw that Norris was here.
“Oops! Sorry, Norris.” But she didn’t move away from my arms.
The tightness in my chest relaxed as I held her. I plucked her scarf, drawing it away from her face to discover it wasn’t just her cheeks that were glowing. She was luminous, lit from within with the happiness that I hadn’t seen for a long time.
“Today went well?” I couldn’t stop myself from checking my watch.
“I’m sorry. I know I’m later than I thought I would be. Belle and I were talking in the car. I should’ve called you.” Her explanations came out in a rush, and I realized this was what I had brought her to. She lived in a constant state of apology. I had known where she was. I was in contact with her security team. She had been having fun and that had changed the moment she came home to me.
“I knew when to expect you,” I told her. “Brex let me know.”
She peeked at that me through her full, black lashes hopefully. “Then you aren’t mad?”
“What would I have to be mad about?” I pulled her to me, wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and pressed a kiss to her forehead. Behind her, Norris didn’t say a word. He considered us a moment, an expectant look on his face. I shook my head slightly. Now wasn’t the time to tell her. I would. Later. I willed him to understand.
He tipped his head to indicate he’d gotten the message, but he didn’t look at me as he excused himself. “I’ll take my leave.”
Clara glanced over her shoulder as the door closed.
“I think I scared him off,” she whispered.
“He knows we need some alone time,” I said.
“You have been working awfully late,” she accused.
I couldn’t deny that any more than I could deny the possessive urge filtering into my blood now. I began unbuttoning her coat. She cooperated, her teeth sinking into her lower lip in expectation.
“Tell me about your day,” I said softly.
She understood the invitation, or she thought she did. There was no way she could know what I was really asking. “It was crazy. Belle is into cars and racing. I can’t even wrap my head around that,” she told me, “and it’s very loud. Oh, and I threw up in Anderson Stone’s helmet.”
“You did what?” It was the last thing I had expected her to say. The rosiness which had begun to fade from her cheeks flamed again reaching all the way to the tips of her ears.
She buried her face against my shoulder. “It was terrible. I didn’t want anyone to see me having morning sickness, but the bathroom was locked and he opened the door and…the next thing I know I’m throwing up in his helmet. It was very regal.”
I bit back a laugh. Clara worried so much about what people thought of her as Queen. I didn’t want her to think I was laughing at her.
“How did he react to that?”
“He was kind—a knight in shining armor. He offered to let me keep it in case I needed it again.” She sighed, burrowing deeper into me.
“He sounds thoughtful.” I tried to keep my voice even, but it lifted, betraying my apprehension. Was he really just a nice guy or did he know? I couldn’t imagine he appreciated his helmet being used as a toilet.
“I don’t think he’s going to be asking me for dinner.” She poked me in the side. “There’s no need to be jealous of the guy. I’m sure I made quite the impression on him.”
There was another matter to consider. “Does he know why you were sick?”
She nodded. “I know I shouldn’t have told him. I was kicking myself the whole way home for doing it. There was just something about him—it was like I could trust him.”
My heart stopped and I stared down at her for a moment. Confusion crept into her grey eyes and I pulled away, moving behind her to draw off her coat. I didn’t want her to see my reaction.
“X?” Too late.
This was my chance. It was time to come clean. My hands took her shoulders gently and spun her around, but the words didn’t come. I saw my chance slipping away. I watched it go.
I forced myself to say something to end the awkward pause. “Any man would be lucky to have you vomit in his helmet, Poppet.”
“Belle thinks he’s handsome,” she told me. She searched my face as if looking for a sign that she shouldn’t have told me this.
“And you?” I asked in a strangled voice.
“He’s cute. I think they were right to choose him as the face of the games,” she said.
“The face?” I repeated. I had no idea what that meant.
“They want someone young. Hot. Henry’s words, not mine,” she quickly added. “Speaking of which, is he…”
“I have no idea,” I said honestly. That was the least of my concerns. My wife had just described my secret, younger brother as hot. She had just told me that she trusted him with a secret we’d shared with very few people. Things were spinning out of control. It didn’t matter what Norris had said. Coincidence or not, I needed to take things in hand. “And you thought he was hot?”
“I can’t find another man attractive?” she asked testily.
An alarm went off in my head, but I ignored it. Maybe another man, but not that man. “I’d prefer you didn’t.”
“Oh, X.” She shook her head.
“I don’t find other women attractive.”
“Really?” Clara pressed, lifting an eyebrow.
“I don’t even notice them.”
“I think you’re jealous,” she said, her voice soft with amazement.
“Of some race car driver?” I swallowed on the truth of her accusation, turning away so she wouldn’t see it.
“That’s what I thought,” she said with a sigh. Her fingers tilted my chin, leveling my gaze back to hers. “How many times do I have to tell you that I belong to you, X?”
“I know.”
“Then act like it,” she said. There was a desperate edge to her voice.
I needed to fix this. Back us up a step. Change the subject.
Before I could do any of those things, she grabbed my tie. “Maybe I should show you,” she suggested.
I reached up, loosening the knot, and helped her slide it free. “I’ve heard actions speak louder than words, Poppet.”
“Then I’ll show you,” she promised.
I couldn’t tear my eyes from her as she lifted her shirt over her head. Her swollen breasts and pert nipples strained against the thin lace of her bra. She unhooked it and they fell free heavily. She took her time with her jeans, making certain she had my full attention before she pushed them to the ground along with her panties. I savored the sight of her body, the full curve of her hips, the subtle swell where my child grew.