The Royals: Alexander and Clara: Volume One (The Royals Saga)

by Geneva Lee

  “There’s no going back after something like this,” Alexander said, voicing my thoughts out loud. “If you want a chance at normalcy—at privacy—you should say no. But if you want a relationship, it seems as good a place as any to start.”

  “What about you? Do you want normal?”

  “I don’t even know what those words mean. I never have.” There were ghosts echoing in his eyes, and I stroked his cheek as if I could chase them away.

  I wasn’t sure what to say, torn between my desire to claim Alexander as mine, but knowing that doing so meant opening myself up to judgment. Not only as the woman I was today, but also my past. How long would it take before every secret I ever had was splashed on the cover of a tabloid? How long before the paparazzi lost interest in me?

  “I can protect you from this. We can meet privately if you prefer,” he offered. “If you don’t want to come tonight, I understand, but please understand me when I say—” his eyes gleamed as he spoke “—you will come tonight in other ways.”

  My lips twitched. “Is that so?”

  Alexander’s hands slid from my hips to my waist as he leaned in, kissing me hard on the mouth. Our tongues tangled together, dancing around each other like I was dancing around this question. It was an unfair means of persuasion.

  “But they know about us,” I reminded him, breaking away. “They have the texts.”

  “By Monday morning, MI5 will know who hacked my account, and they’ll be in jail.”

  “And that will be another huge story. The kind that links back to this one,” I pointed out. “An arrest won’t erase that.”

  “No, but it will send a message,” he said firmly. “And don’t worry, I’ve devised other ways of contacting you.”

  “Carrier pigeons? Smoke signals?”

  He smirked. God, I wanted to kiss that cocky grin. “That can be arranged.”

  My body hummed in response, charmed by his smile, by his laugh. He turned me on when he was serious, when he was demanding, but he thrilled me to the bone when he was light-hearted, and I realized I would give anything to see him that way as often as possible. I knew that meant I couldn’t walk away from him, even if I tried. “I can’t keep pretending you mean nothing to me. I don’t like the hiding or the secrecy, but I still want my privacy. Is that something we can make work?”

  But even as I asked, I knew it wasn’t possible. Alexander had lived his whole life under scrutiny. Why would it be any different for me?

  “Of course.” To his credit, he said it sincerely. But maybe that’s how one got by in a world like this, by believing things could be changed for the better. Maybe it’s how I would survive.

  “I’ll go,” I said at last. As soon as it was out of my mouth, I realized there were other implications to saying yes to Alexander. Namely, I was going to a ball tonight. With nothing to wear. With no clue how to act. With the sexiest, most sought after man in the world on my arm. But Alexander’s lips kissed me until I forgot about all the whos and whats, only remembering the why.

  

  “You are my fairy godmother,” I said as Belle held up a pair of shoes that perfectly matched the Alexander McQueen she’d found for me. Having Belle as a flatmate was like having access to Harrods at home.

  “And next week, I’m taking you shopping.” She wagged her finger like I was in trouble.

  “Ugh.” I flopped back on her bed and pulled a pillow over my head. “I just went shopping.”

  “You should have thought of that before you started banging His Royal Hotness.”

  I stuck my tongue out at her but couldn’t keep a goofy grin from sliding onto my face. I couldn’t help it. Since I’d returned to my desk I’d felt lighter, as though I was full of air—relaxed and carefree. I hadn’t even cared that half the office was whispering behind my back and I didn’t bother checking my email alerts the rest of the day. I’d call that more than progress.

  “Are you sure it’s okay if I wear that?” I asked for the tenth time.

  “Yes!” Belle shouted, pretending to throw a shoe at my head. “I’m wearing something else. Philip wouldn’t like that dress.”

  “Why not?” I asked.

  “Too sexy,” she said with a shrug.

  Of course, staunch Philip wouldn’t want his perfect future wife to look too hot amongst the royal crowd. It wasn’t his style to draw attention, something Belle had been acclimating to slowly. Thankfully, I couldn’t imagine Alexander having similar hang-ups. Mostly because my plan was to distract him with the dress and tempt him to leave early. I knew there was no way he’d be able to keep his hands off me while I was wearing it.

  “I’m so glad you’re going to be there,” Belle said, redirecting my attention from my fantasies back to the task at hand.

  I for one couldn’t believe I was going to be there. It felt a bit too much like a fairytale. In fact, it was a fairytale. The same one little girls were still told when they went to bed at night. The same story sold to women in movie theaters. Except it was happening to me, and I was having a hard time accepting it.

  “I’m nervous,” I admitted to her. After having a lot of very personal messages on display for the world to see, I was about to go out publicly with Alexander for the first time since he’d saved me in front of Brimstone. This time, I was stepping out and asking to be judged, and I had no doubt that all of England—and most of the world—was up for the challenge.

  I had a sneaking suspicion I would be found wanting by most people.

  “Why?” Belle asked. “You’re going to look hot as hell. The whole world knows that Alexander is mad about you.”

  “That’s part of the problem.” I clutched the pillow tighter and tried to steady my nerves.

  “So everyone who reads TMI knows that you’re a sex goddess. I wish I had your problems.” She winked as she laid out a pair of silky undies next to her gown and nothing else.

  “Will Philip approve of you wearing so little under your dress?” I asked.

  She slipped off her shirt, laughing as she reached for her robe. “He won’t mind that part. It’s all about appearances to him.”

  Was that my problem? Was it all about appearances to me? Alexander had reassured me repeatedly that he didn’t care what anyone else thought, but did I care? What did it matter what they thought of my looks or my clothes or my personality if he wanted me? Except that it did matter, because I’d suffered from self-doubt before. I didn’t want to let it get to me, but if it did, I knew Alexander wasn’t going to like what he saw. I was determined to keep my personal demons at bay, not just for him but for myself as well.

  “Do you want me to get that?” Belle asked, interrupting my thoughts. I stared at her quizzically. “The buzzer!”

  “You’re half-naked. I’ll get it.” I jumped from the bed and headed to the hall. Hitting the button, I braced myself, still convinced that my next encounter with a reporter was just around the corner.

  “Delivery for Miss Bishop.”

  I hesitated. There was no reason to suspect that anything was up, but all it would take was one time to get burned. Then the perfect solution occurred to me.

  “She’s not home,” I lied. “You can leave it with Ms. Hathaway in Apartment 1. She’s the landlord.”

  “Thanks, miss.” The delivery guy didn’t seem to think this was odd or push his case, which meant I was probably being paranoid. He was just a delivery guy after all, but I knew it was okay to be cautious.

  I debated going down and retrieving the package for a few minutes before I finally went back into Belle’s bedroom to discover steam pouring from the bathroom. Poking my head in, I discovered her busily plucking her eyebrows while the shower water heated up.

  “What was it?” she asked.

  “A delivery.”

  “Ohhhh!”

  “I had them leave it with Aunt Jane.”

  Belle blinked at this revelation and then continued her pursuit of errant eyebrow hairs. “That’s smart. We should probably do that wi
th all our packages from now on.”

  I nodded as I digested her words. From now on. Because things were going to be different after today. I was going out in public, finally revealing that the speculation was true—that I was dating Alexander. Of course, what they didn’t know was what our relationship was really like, the darkness that tinged our lovemaking. The control Alexander so desperately needed. I couldn’t help but be glad that Alexander had kept his lascivious texts to topics of a rather more tame persuasion in comparison. But not because I was embarrassed that Alexander had a dark side, but because it was his. I suppose we did have one thing that was only between us. One secret that we’d managed to keep private. It was hardly a secret though, after I’d made it clear I wasn’t interested in submitting, but it was something.

  “So spill. What is he really like in bed?” Belle asked as she washed her face. “After reading TMI, I get the feeling that you left out some details.”

  “You should get in the shower,” I said, skirting the question. The only way it was going to stay a secret was if I kept it to myself, which meant keeping it from everyone, even my best friend.

  “Go get your package,” Belle ordered.

  I darted downstairs, knowing that we had less than an hour to get ready. It occurred to me about halfway down that I might have to say something to Belle about hogging the shower, but then I shrugged it off. It wouldn’t take me that long to get ready and I’d done most of my necessary primping before starting work today.

  Knocking quietly on Jane’s door, I realized I was still unsure I really wanted her to answer. But answer she did. Today she was clad in a summery dress that billowed around her in a riot of colors. Despite her age, she looked like a love child, and I half-expected her to say she was on her way to a Beatles concert.

  “Oh Clara, darling!” She welcomed me with a kiss to the cheek. “I have a package for you.”

  “I know,” I admitted sheepishly. “I asked them to leave it down here. There’s been some more...articles and I wasn’t sure if it was a real delivery man.”

  “Well, he didn’t ask a thing about you. In fact, he didn’t look like a delivery man, more like a...oh, police officer,” she said as she paced over to the table in her living room.

  “Maybe a security guard?” I asked. It hadn’t been Norris’s voice, but still.

  “Yes, more like that, dear.” Aunt Jane thrust an envelope toward me and my heart skipped a beat as I took it. It was a letter, hand-addressed to me, bearing no postage. I turned it over, anxious to see if there was a return address. There wasn’t, but it was stamped with a glossy red wax seal that bore a dragon.

  “That looks like a love letter,” Jane remarked.

  I didn’t have to open it to know it was, just as I knew it was from him. “I think you’re right.”

  “From Alexander?” Jane guessed.

  I blushed. I wasn’t sure why it hadn’t occurred to me that she would have heard about my relationship to Alexander, but it still surprised me. Mostly because I hadn’t put my guard up as I had with all the others. “I think so.”

  “This is much classier than those little snippets on the phone.” Jane moved to pour tea into two cups on the table and then offered one to me.

  If anyone else had offered me tea after admitting they knew about the most recent tabloid fodder involving my personal life, I would have run screaming. But there was something about Jane that I trusted. For one, Belle trusted her, but more than that, Jane struck me as a kindred spirit. I couldn’t explain it, but I implicitly trusted her. I took a seat and accepted the cup.

  “How are you holding up?” she asked.

  “Surprisingly well.” I took a sip of tea, wondering how much Belle had told her about my past.

  “I can’t imagine what it’s like to have your personal life selling papers.” Jane shook her head, taking a slow sip from her own cup. “There have always been scandals, my dear. But in this day and age with all the computers and smart phones and Wi-Fi, everyone knows about everything. It’s impossible to keep things quiet. Let me tell you, there would be a number of royal families just ruined if they’d lived in this day and age. After all, illicit romances have been around forever.”

  I choked on my drink, burning my tongue in the process. “Illicit romances?”

  “Well, there was Harold who had to abdicate his position...what was it? Thirty years ago. Fell in love with a girl from France. Not royal.”

  “I didn’t think they cared if you were royal anymore,” I said in a small voice. The truth was I didn’t know. But it was the twenty-first century for fuck’s sake, there couldn’t be a huge number of royal suitors available to meet and marry.

  “That was ages ago,” she said, waving it off. “I think they were more upset that she was from France. Bad blood there.”

  “And what about a girl from America?”

  Jane sat down her cup and I saw her jaw tighten. “Sadly, I’m not sure England is ready for that.”

  “Even if I’m a British citizen?” My stomach turned over, and I fought against a wave of nausea.

  “I’m afraid they’ll hear the accent and well, that will be that.” She patted my hand comfortingly. “But can I give you a bit of advice?”

  I nodded, desperate for even a scrap of hope if she had one.

  “Fuck ‘em. The whole lot,” she said. “Those phone messages or whatever they were, they might not have been Shakespeare, but he sounds like a man who’s willing to put a lady’s needs first.”

  This time when I choked on my tea, it was from laughter. Embarrassed, giggly, girlish laughter—and I didn’t care.

  “Men like that are hard to come by. My second husband was a grand giver in that sense.” Jane winked at me and I caught a flash of Belle in the gesture. Maybe that’s why I felt so comfortable around Jane, even when the subject matter was uncomfortable. It was more like looking into the future than talking to a stranger.

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “Enjoy yourself,” she said, “and remember your heart.”

  I stood and placed my cup in the sink. “Remember not to let it get broken?”

  “Remember to take chances with it,” Jane said as she saw me to the door. “Otherwise, what’s the point of having one?”

  I thought about that as I climbed the stairs back to my apartment. Being with Alexander was dangerous, like taking a leap into the unknown. But maybe that was just what I needed.

  Chapter Fourteen

  My fingers trembled as I broke the envelope’s seal, spotting the words “for your eyes only” scrawled across the bottom. I stood against my bedroom door, my heart pounding, unsure what to expect. The letter was penned on a thin sheet of elegant cream stationary with bold masculine strokes, and although I’d never seen Alexander’s handwriting, I instinctively knew it was his.

  Clara,

  I know I’ve scared you. I have no right to ask you to be with me. There are risks, more than I’ve let on about, but I can’t release you. I’m afraid that even if you tried to run now I wouldn’t let you go. I crave your body. The touch of your skin. The sweet silk of your thighs against my face and the taste of you on my lips. Even as I warn you away from me, know that you are mine and I protect what is mine. Even from myself.

  X

  I ran my fingers over the X, a smile tugging on my lips. His words left me aroused and perplexed. It was nearly a love letter—the first I’d ever received—and yet its romance was tainted with his self-doubt. The self-doubt I wished I could wash away. If only I could show his past sins were behind us, but I feared doing so might lead us down a treacherous path.

  A shiver ran unbidden up my neck at the thought of Alexander in control of my body. How could I want that and be scared at the same time? It didn’t make any sense. Of course, nothing about our relationship was rational.

  Could I follow him into the darkness to save him? I wasn’t sure.

  

  Alexander picked me up at the door an hour later, whic
h was a surprise since he usually sent Norris to bring me quietly out the back. Since Belle had already confirmed that there were reporters outside, I let her get the door while I took a moment to focus on my breathing, willing calm to overtake my body.

  That calm vanished the moment Belle opened the door. Instead my breath hitched at the sight of him dressed in a classic black tuxedo tailored to his perfect body. He was clean-shaven for once and his black hair, although wild, had been combed into an appropriate level of control for the event. Looking like this, it was impossible not to see him as the powerful man he was. Some men wore tuxedos, but Alexander owned it.

  He carried a dozen red roses that popped against the black backdrop of his jacket, the scarlet providing a direct contrast to the darkness while still emanating a fierce sensuality. But the thing that made my heart speed up was how he looked at me, staring at me with hooded eyes. The lust was obvious as his gaze raked across me possessively.

  I’d picked the right dress. At first glance, the silver, silk gown fell in billowing wisps down my curves, but underneath, a bustier caged my waist and pushed my breasts into the plunging, strapless neckline. Two nearly concealed slits allowed my legs to slip free as I moved. I felt like a movie star as soon as I put it on, and from the way Alexander watched me, I looked like one, too. Belle had twisted my hair and pinned it so it spilled over my shoulder, and I hadn’t fought her on the scarlet lipstick she’d suggested.

  “It’s nice to meet you,” Belle said, breaking the silence. She stepped aside and he strode into our flat, his eyes never leaving mine.

  Finally, he tore his gaze from me and extended his hand to her. “Alexander. You must be Belle.”

  Belle looked torn between accepted his hand and curtseying. Thankfully, she took his cue, nodding as though this was a normal introduction. “Are you looking forward to this evening?”

  “Yes,” he answered, although his response was too stiff to be believable. “That is, I’m looking forward to the company.”