by Geneva Lee
Pushing past him, I stepped between them. Formal introductions were in order before things got less civilized. “Anders, allow me to introduce you to my husband.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CLARA
The family estate we were staying in had three wings, sixteen rooms, a stable—and I was pretty sure none of it was big enough to house my husband’s giant ego. Security saw us in, parting ways with us to head to the kitchens or to their rooms. No one made eye contact. Not even Norris. I could have sworn the antique portraits lining the corridor walls were studiously avoiding looking our way.
”I can’t believe you,” I exploded as soon as we made it to the bedroom. That proved to be a mistake because a piercing wail rent the air a second later. I groaned in frustration. Now I’d woken up Elizabeth. Could this get any worse?
“I’ve got her.” Alexander stopped me at the door. He went across the hall, pausing to wave a bleary-eyed Penny back to bed. “I’ll see to her.”
The poor girl’s eyes popped open. Alexander had that effect on women. Of course, I imagined finding the King of England in your hallway when you are half-asleep was a little startling.
I fumed, pacing across the bedroom and trying to think of what to say. I’d left London on bad terms, and I hadn’t expected him to follow me here. Now he’d shown up and planted his proverbial flag for all to see. If he thought he was going to get away with it, we needed to have a serious conversation. I made up my mind to tell him that and went across the hall. Peeking into the nursery, I hesitated at the sight that greeted me. Elizabeth was in his arms, one sleepy hand reached out to hold her father’s chin. Alexander rocked on his heels, bending and swaying with gentle movements. He was dancing her back to sleep.
I softened instantly. It wasn’t playing fair to follow up his spectacular display of cockiness with proof he was an amazing father. Because he couldn’t seem to be both an arrogant king and this man at the same time. The trouble was that this was what I wanted. I wanted a husband who rocked our children to sleep. I wanted a normal life. It was something I could never have. I stole back to the bedroom without saying a word. Our argument could wait. Regardless of the troubles Alexander and I faced, I would never allow Elizabeth to be placed between us.
I’d come down considerably by the time he returned to me. My anger had dropped to a low simmer. As long as he didn’t up the heat, I wouldn’t boil over again.
He shuffled into the room, his eyes cast to the floor as he shucked his leather jacket and tossed it on a chair.
“You can’t hide from me, X,” I said when he continued to undress without so much as a glance.
“Believe me, I know that.” He pressed his lips into a thin smile, reaching for the back of his t-shirt.
“I don’t know why you’re getting undressed,” I said quickly. The truth was that if he took off his shirt I wasn’t sure what would happen. Actually, I had a pretty good idea.
“I was getting ready for bed.” He glanced over as if to make sure we had one.
We had one and I knew that because I’d been sleeping in it alone. It had felt too large without him there. My heart ached at the thought of unfolding my body against his and finally getting a decent night’s sleep.
Instead, I planted my hands on my hips and forced myself to sound calm. “Maybe you should stay in the guest room.”
He blinked like I’d been speaking a foreign language and he needed a second to translate. “I thought most of the guest rooms were taken.”
He had me there. Between Penny and Brexton and Noris and Georgia, the house was full. Our group had even spilled over to a local inn. My mind raced, trying to come up with a new objection before my heart got its way. “There’s always the couch.”
“Poppet,” he began.
“Don’t Poppet me,” I snapped. “You were rude. You were condescending. You embarrassed me.”
A muscle in his jaw twitched and he massaged the spot, his hand raking across his 5 o’clock shadow. My body responded to the noise, remembering the times his stubble had scraped deliciously over the skin of my thighs. I hated that I responded so instantly to his presence. I hated that even now, when I was extremely pissed with him, part of me was glad he was here. I’d missed him. No matter how angry I was—no matter the distance between us—I loved him.
“If you want me to go…” He let the offer hang in the air, waiting for me to grab hold of it or dismiss it.
“You should stay,” I said, “for Elizabeth. She misses you.”
I miss you, too. I kept that to myself.
“I missed her.” His eyes caught mine. “I missed you.”
“You knew where I was.” I hadn’t quite forgiven him for acting like an ape to Anderson. Or for outing my pregnancy to the world. Or for a lot of things, apparently. He must have known that, so why had he chosen to show his face today of all days? “Why are you here?”
“It’s my birthday.” The accusation that should have been there wasn’t. Instead, the words were hollow. “You probably were busy.”
I swallowed. I’d been caught up in the ceremonies and hadn’t called. Or had I been punishing him? “I know. I picked the date. It was supposed to be a surprise. The Sovereign Games should celebrate the Sovereign, after all.”
“I don’t care about the games.” He pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. “I don’t care that it’s my birthday. I needed to see you.”
“I guess you’re supposed to get your wish today.”
“You’re the only thing I want,” he said softly. “I don’t need presents or parties. Just you.”
“Good, because I didn’t get you anything.” I crossed my arms, suddenly defensive. I’d been angry and preoccupied. Christ, was I turning into him? Becoming so lost in my work that I forgot birthdays? I was clinging to my anger, because I suspected that if I released it, I’d have to face how horrible I felt.
“I didn’t mean to embarrass you,” he said in a low voice.
“Is that your way of apologizing?” I could never be sure with him. Alexander had a bad habit of thinking everything he did was justified. It meant that he didn’t regularly say he was sorry.
“Yes,” he said. “Forgive me?”
“Well, that depends. Are you going to keep acting like a jackass?” But I found myself crossing the room. I stopped short of him, not certain if I should take those last steps. Alexander wrapped an arm around my waist and closed that final distance. My hands slid under his shirt, seeking his warmth and lingering on the hard, muscular plane of his abs.
“If you stop making me jealous,” he said. He leaned closer, his mouth temptingly close to mine.
“Jealous?” I raised an eyebrow. “I was doing my job. You didn’t want to host the games, so I did.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about.” He traced a finger down my nose to my lower lip before sighing. He shook his head, his mouth twitching with an exasperated grin that looked anything but amused. I wanted to kiss him until he stopped looking at me that way. Or slap him. Both seemed like effective methods. “He asked you to dinner.”
“Who? Dinner? What?” I drew back, confused, before I figured out what he meant. “Anders? He’s a kid.”
“He’s your age,” he corrected me.
“Okay, that might be true. I don’t see him that way.” He could think whatever he wanted. “Anders invited me out with the guys. It wasn’t like that.”
“Are you sure about that, Clara?” The words grated from him like he’d turned them over so many times they had left him raw. The question had preoccupied him, I could see that now. The blaze in his eyes wasn’t possession or anger. It was fear.
“It isn’t,” I promised. “He was only being friendly.”
He shook his head again, his hand going to his hair and raking through it in a gesture I knew too well. “He wasn’t being friendly.” His eyes traveled from my feet up until they met mine. “He wants you.”
“You are paranoid, Alexander. You have
to stop worrying.” I pressed a palm to his chest, my skin tingling where our flesh met. “I chose you. It wouldn’t matter if he’d asked me to marry him—” This observation was met with a growl, but I ignored it. “My answer will always be no to anyone but you.”
“Does that mean…” he trailed away, his hand slipping to the zipper of my dress.
“If you promise to behave.” But I was already melting against him. He unzipped me and my dress puddled to the floor. A hand pressed to the small of my back and he bent me over, my body arching into his embrace. The heat of his mouth trailed down my throat to my breasts before closing over my nipple, sucking it roughly through the lace of my bra. I couldn’t fight this. I didn’t want to.
“Behaving,” he murmured, “is overrated.”
My eyes had shut tightly, savoring each flick of his tongue and rasp of his teeth, but I squirmed free and pushed him away.
“Promise me,” I repeated firmly. Alexander wasn’t paying attention, his focus was still on my breasts, so I crossed my arms over my chest defiantly.
“I will behave. I will play nice. I will be your better half.” He yanked me to him, before adding, “In theory.”
“X.” It was all I got out before we collided. There was an urgency to his kiss, but unlike what I’d come to expect after the last few harrowing weeks, it was slow and sweet. It was a kiss that asked for my forgiveness. I folded into him, my hands pressed to his chest. His heart beat rapidly and I relaxed as I felt its steady rhythm. He was what mattered. Every danger we faced, whatever issues we had, we’d battle them together. I had promised him that. I hadn’t chosen this life or him blindly. It wasn’t going to be easy.
But easy love was for the weak. Easy love gave up. Easy love didn’t last. Us? We were forever. It didn’t matter if it was harder. I saw past his rough edges to the man he was in his soul. It was a fierce love—a hard love—that had brought us together. That love was worth fighting for.
“I’m sorry, Poppet,” he whispered against my mouth. “I wish I could tell you that it won’t happen again. I wish I could tell you I deserve you. I wish I could tell you how very much I need you.”
I reached up and took his face, tilting his chin so our eyes met, his blue and my gray clashing in a storm of emotion. “Show me.”
Alexander scooped me into his arms and carried me to the bed. He laid me down with a gentleness that stole my breath. My fingers fumbled to find the button of his jeans, but he pushed my hand away softly.
“I’ll take care of that,” he said in a low voice that sent a shiver dancing up my spine. “I’ll take care of you tonight.”
Tightness constricted my throat and I swallowed hard. The tears came anyway. I shut my eyes against them, but they leaked past my lashes and dribbled down my face. Alexander finished drawing off my pants, but his fingers froze on my ankles.
“Clara,” he said my name in a strangled voice.
“I’m okay,” I choked out. I wasn’t. Not really. I was in love. I was terrified. I was frustrated. I was hopeful. I was everything. He made me feel too much—he always made me feel too much.
“I…” he searched for something to say, but I knew there was nothing to be said. Some truths could only be felt.
“Make love to me,” I pleaded, holding out a hand. It was the only answer he needed.
Alexander shed his clothes swiftly and climbed onto the bed next to me, pulling my body to his. He wiped away the lingering remnants of tears with the rough pad of his thumb as he planted a soft kiss on my forehead.
“Clara, you are my world,” he murmured, his lips still brushing across my forehead. “I was raised to believe that protecting the world was my responsibility. How could I not protect you?”
“I only need you to love me,” I whispered, daring a hopeful glance. Pain flashed across his face and his eyes shuddered against my words.
“I love you. I wish I could go back and tell you as soon as I realized it. I wish I could go back and tell you every time I’ve thought it since. Your love is a gift I’ve never deserved. I’m honored to love you.”
“I’m honored you protect me.” I kissed him softly. “But X, you can’t control everything. You can’t control the world. You can’t control me.”
“I know that.” He drew me closer, his strong arms tightening protectively around me. “I won’t control you. But I won’t stop trying to change the world. You deserve to feel nothing but love and peace. Our children deserve that. If I have to spend every day of my life fighting for it, I will.”
I knew he meant it. And I knew this was one enemy he would face on his own. All I could do was give him the strength and faith to keep fighting.
But tonight, on his birthday, he deserved a reprieve. “Let’s forget about the world,” I urged him, my hand sliding down to grip his length and draw it between my legs.
Alexander groaned, hooking a hand around my leg and moving between my thighs. I guided him to my entrance and held my breath. He paused, allowing me to adjust as he rocked his hips against me, sliding inside me slowly so that I felt every inch of him. He rooted there and stilled, lingering in the sensation of our union. We stayed like that for a few moments, simply together. It was a reminder that nothing could come between us because we were not two separate people, but one. One heart. One soul. There was no Alexander. There was no Clara. There was just us.
When he finally began to move, he drew in and out of me, allowing the ache at my core to build with painful anticipation.
“Promise me I’ll never lose you,” he whispered. I opened my eyes and found his own full of fear and my heart broke. Even now, with nothing between us, he was afraid.
“What is this about?” I whispered, gasping as he pierced me once more.
“It’s about us,” he answered with another lingering thrust. “I love you, Poppet.”
His words sent me over the edge and I shattered, my heart fracturing and fusing with his. Until he was my beginning and my end. Until he was my everything.
* * *
Alexander was a changed man the next morning. He’d slept well, judging from the lack of circles under his eyes and the quick smile he flashed whenever he caught me checking him out. I couldn’t help looking. It had been too long since I’d seen him so happy.
Everywhere he went, he seemed keen to meet people, to shake hands, to show off our daughter. I wasn’t entirely sure what to do with him. In a single night, he’d done a complete one-eighty. I wanted to believe that I had finally laid the fears plaguing him to rest, but I knew it wasn’t that simple. Every now and then I would catch a shadow when he thought I wasn’t looking. There was more to this and I wouldn’t be satisfied until no ghosts haunted his eyes.
“I can take her.” I held out my arms for Elizabeth, but Alexander moved her onto his other hip and shook his head.
“You do too much, Poppet,” he whispered, so only I could hear. That was the only trouble. We were surrounded not only by security teams, but everyone who worked at Silverstone. It had escaped no one’s notice that the King had come to visit and they all seemed eager to shake his hand. “I’m here to help you, so do what you need to do.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Why?” His forehead crinkled in concern and he twined his free hand with mine.
“You show up and everyone comes out to see you,” I muttered to him. “No one even notices when I’m here.”
Except Anders, but I wasn’t about to say that after last night’s cock-and-bull show.
“They’re afraid to talk to you.”
“Why would they be afraid to talk to me?” I couldn’t see a reason why. I wasn’t nearly as intimidating as he was, and no one had any problems coming up to him.
“Because you’re beautiful and smart and everyone here sees that.” He lifted the hand that he held and pressed it to his lips. “And they probably know that you’re taken.”
“I wonder what could give them that idea,” I said dryly. He had been on his best behavior today
, which for Alexander meant only a slight bit of male posturing. It didn’t escape my attention that he always managed to be between me and whoever we were talking to. Still, he wasn’t displaying any of the primitive behavior that had pissed me off last night. It was a step in the right direction.
All of that changed when Anders arrived at the track. The first race wasn’t scheduled until tomorrow, but all of the racers were here, going over important details with their team and running practice laps.
The moment I spotted him, I considered feigning a headache. Maybe it would be better to keep the two of them apart. Alexander had misinterpreted Anders’ friendly invitation yesterday. I knew that. My husband didn’t seem to, though. Before I could make up my mind on which way to handle it, he’d turned and caught sight of him.
There was a brief pause when both men’s eyes met. My husband went rigid like he was about to strike and I placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. He needed to remember that he had nothing to fear. The only way I could help to remind him of that was by staying at his side. Anders forced a smile and ambled towards us, raking his hand through his shaggy blond hair. He stopped and directed his attention to Elizabeth.
“Remember me, beautiful girl?” he cooed at her. “Mum let you come to the track, huh?”
It was a mistake. I knew it the moment he’d spoken. If Alexander was protective of me, then he was overbearing when it came to Elizabeth.
“Anderson’s been helpful,” I said, breaking in and hoping I could prevent a fight. “Penny was sick the other day. He helped calm Elizabeth down.”