by Geneva Lee
“I can, Clara, but I have no desire to.”
Emotions trembled through me at this revelation. I was too young to consider children. It had always felt like a dream, something much too far away to touch. Discussing the possibility had the odd effect of bringing it nearly close enough to grasp.
“I should have told you this before,” he said when I didn’t speak.
“It’s okay. I understand,” I responded flatly, suddenly feeling as lifeless as the future now seemed.
“No, you don’t. My children will be brought into a life of duty. They will have no choice in their lives. They’ll be born into a cage.”
“X.” My fingers knit through his as a fresh wave of grief passed over me. Was this what it was like for him? Living in constant mourning for the life he could never have? Would it be different if he was just an ordinary man?
“Don’t feel sorry for me. It only means I’ll never have to share you.”
My throat constricted as it always did when he referenced a future that I only hoped to share with him. How could he say he didn’t love me and still talk of a shared path forward? The contradictions gave me strength when they should have scared me away. Even now, discussing the hypothetical family we would never have was more real than a future without him. It didn’t make any sense, but did love ever truly make sense?
Alexander traced the curve of my neck, giving me quiet to process my thoughts, and circled around the back of it to the other side. By the time he got there his body was wound tight as a wire. The severe shift in his body drew me back to the here and now—back to what had happened earlier tonight. I skimmed my fingers across the skin of my throat, battling against a sudden surge of fear. Although I couldn’t see it, I could imagine what it looked like based on its tenderness.
“It’s nothing,” I said, hoping that I sounded reassuring.
But Alexander could see the damage, making it impossible for him to ignore. “He left marks on you. That is not nothing.You need to see a doctor.”
“I’m fine.” He might be right, but there was no way I was going to risk this leaking to the tabloids. It was the last thing we needed. The second an ambitious paparazzo found out about Daniel, he’d have a platform for his delusions. Alexander didn’t need to suffer from any more scandals.
“Stop being a martyr,” he commanded. “This body is mine. Or have you forgotten that? Tomorrow you’re getting checked out. Our family doctor is discreet if that’s what you’re worried about.”
That was primarily what concerned me. But there was more than that. I wanted—needed—to put this behind me as quickly as possible. Still, after everything that Alexander had been through this last week, I would agree to anything that appeased him. “Of course.”
“I’d almost hoped you would fight me on it, poppet,” he whispered in my ear, “so I could remind your body who it belonged to.”
“In that case, do remind me.” My breath caught as his hands moved to my breasts. He plumped them teasingly, his thumbs circling my nipples until they grew heavy, swollen with arousal.
“I promised to fuck you tonight.” His words were hot on my neck as one of his hands slid lower. “But our plans have changed.”
I sank against him, losing myself to the deliberate stroke of his finger over my aching sex. I didn’t care what our plans were as long as they included more of this. “Hmm.”
“Instead I’m going to take you to bed and make love to you until we forget this nightmare, but first I need to worship you.” His hand snaked up my throat, abandoning my breasts, and capturing my jaw. He tilted it until our mouths met. The kiss was a slow burn, simmering with promise, as our lips moved slowly. We were rediscovering each other and I knew then that we couldn’t forget what had happened. We could only move past it together. This was the first step.
I turned instinctively into him, no longer caring about the hand between my legs. I needed him—needed his body pressed against mine. My skin sang where it met his, reminding me that I was alive. In his embrace there was no danger. No fear. When he touched me, there was only a sense of belonging. Of returning home.
His hands lifted my ass up, placing me on the edge of the tub. I perched there, instantly missing the comforting contact, as he pushed onto his knees. Warm water lapped around my feet and moisture beaded down my skin.
“Are you cold?” he asked, dropping a kiss on my kneecap.
I shook my head. How could I be cold with him so near me? I was on fire for him, aware only of the delicious man between my legs.
“I’m going to make you feel better,” he promised, running his hands up my thighs and urging them apart. “I’m going to take you where there is only this and you and me.” His head lowered as he began to kiss down my navel and across my belly, pausing when he reached my apex. A finger grazed over my swollen seam, and I gasped with approval as he spread open my softness. Sinking down, his tongue stroked heat across my sex, slowly at first but building in urgency. My head fell back against the tile as I clutched the edge of the porcelain. I knew this wasn’t about taking me. This was a gift. His mouth closed over my clit, tugging it gently between his teeth as he sucked hungrily. But I needed more. I needed to fall over the edge.
I needed to let go.
Alexander hooked an arm around my thigh, allowing me to fist a hand in his hair. My fingers tangled in his damp locks as I drove him closer. I wanted more. More of his tongue. More of his mouth. More of the promises he made without words. The night faded into a beseeching melody that built to a crescendo that thundered through me, and I crashed along with it in a symphony of moans and shudders.
The head between my legs stilled, but Alexander lingered there, holding me to him and breathing me in.
I exhaled raggedly, tremors still ravaging my body, even as peace settled over me. I wasn’t content though. I wouldn’t be until there was no separation between us. Not until he was inside of me.
“Careful, poppet,” he warned as I attempted to stand. “Allow me.”
He pushed up, stepping out of the tub like a god being born from the water. It dripped off his hard, lean body, trickling along the carved ridges of his abdomen and across the chisel of his pelvic muscles. He opened a towel in invitation, not bothering to dry himself off. I stepped into it, drinking him in as he wrapped it around me. Reaching out as if to prove he was real, I skimmed my fingers down his chest, pausing on the rope-like scars that I once thought marred his body. I loved them now, because I loved everything about this man, even the shadows of the past that marked him still.
I carried my scars internally in places that I thought no one could touch. No one ever had until him.
Daniel had given me many of those scars, and he’d tried to give me new ones tonight, but Alexander was a balm to my soul, healing me with his touch. I ached for his medicine.
Alexander guided my hand away from my neck. I hadn’t even realized what I was doing. My fingers had found his scars and traveled instinctually to the visible ones remaining on my own skin from the attack.
“I am the only man who will ever touch you again,” he vowed.
There was a time when I would have fought against this assertion of dominance. Tonight I welcomed it, seeing it for what it was.
“Take me to bed,” I murmured, “and make love to me.”
I’d missed the significance of his words before, distracted by the insatiable whims of my body. Now as I repeated them back to him, the full force of their meaning roared through me. My eyes met his and there was no wall between us. We’d stripped it brick by brick. We’d torn it down.
Alexander held out his hand. A gesture I’d witnessed a hundred times before tonight, and yet, it was the first time. Dropping my towel, I took it. I had never experienced a moment as intimate as when our hands touched. He drew me close and kissed me deeply before lifting me and carrying me to the bedroom. Laying me onto the bed, he crept slowly over me until our bodies hovered parallel to each other’s. His arms bracketed my torso, hooking ar
ound my shoulders. My heart pounded—a war drum calling for battle. I steeled myself as the emotions swept through me. His eyes reflected my struggle, torn, too, between certainty and fear. But something else shone from them—something unmistakable. It stole my breath and ached across my limbs.
“Clara, I…I—”
“It’s okay,” I murmured in reassurance.
“I tried to stop myself.” His words rushed from him, uncontrolled. Uncontrollable. He searched my face for forgiveness I would never give him, because there was nothing to apologize for. “I tried to protect you, but I can’t. I love you. God help me, I love you so much.”
I arched into him, our lips colliding with the urgency of new lovers. Our love was born of fire, baptized with the flames of fear and longing, and in it we were made new. Two souls fused into something forbidden and inexorable as our bodies joined. We melted into one another, each discovering ourself in the other. When we found the edge, we shattered together in a torrent of cries and whispered promises. We clung to each other, entwined and inseparable, still and silent in our wonder until the ache of new love summoned our bodies together once more.
Chapter Eighteen
It didn’t seem to matter that Daniel was in jail, because except for work, I was on unofficial house arrest. Norris accompanied me to work and back home again. Alexander closed himself into rooms and held whispered conversations. Belle called constantly. Yet somehow the story hadn’t reached the media. I took to wearing scarves and slouchy cashmere turtlenecks to hide the physical reminders of the attack. My life had been reduced to varying degrees of faking okay. Not everyone I trusted knew about the attack, and while I wanted to keep it that way, it was exhausting. Life outside my inner circle went on as normal while those inside it struggled for normalcy.
“I’ve taken the day off of work,” I announced to Alexander on Wednesday morning.
He abandoned the kettle and circled me protectively from behind. “Are you feeling okay? I can cancel my meetings.”
“Don’t worry, X, I’m playing hooky. Edward set up a shopping trip with Belle.” I popped a pod into the automatic coffee maker and hit the button. Shifting my weight, I leaned back against him, appreciating the warmth on the chilly autumn morning.
“Shopping,” he repeated, as if it was a foreign concept.
“Does Norris do all of your shopping, too?” I asked with a laugh.
“No.” He shook his head. “I don’t think so. Clothes seem to appear.”
“You must have a fairy godmother,” I murmured. “I should thank her for making you look so good.”
Alexander spun me around and bracketed me against the counter. His ink-black hair was tousled artfully, and I resisted the urge to run my hands through it. Judging from his navy three-piece suit, he had serious business to attend to today.
“You’re what makes me look good,” he said.
My heart sped up, sending blood rushing through me. Would this feeling ever fade? Or would I be blessed enough to be this wildly in love for the rest of my life? I couldn’t imagine another moment passing by without him. I didn’t want to.
I willed my excited body to calm. “What meetings do you have?”
“Boring ones,” he said with a smirk. “Someone in Parliament. A late lunch with my father. Batman.”
“Batman?”
“Checking to see if you were paying attention, poppet.”
“I’m always paying attention to you, X.” My fingers closed over the knot of his tie, straightening it before I caressed the red silk. I raised an eyebrow suggestively.
Alexander took a step forward, locking himself against me. “You’re giving me ideas.”
“That was my plan.” My breath hitched as his fingers dug into my hips, gripping them tightly.
“You’d like me to take this tie off, wouldn’t you?” He waited for me to nod. “And then what? Do you want me to cover your eyes so you won’t know where my hands or teeth are? Where my cock is?”
A moan answered him.
“Or maybe I should strip you down and tie you to a chair? I could call into my meetings,” he said silkily, “and watch you squirm while boring men discuss boring things.”
Yes, please.
“Decisions. Decisions.” He rubbed a finger over my lower lip, and my mouth parted to taste his skin. “Or maybe I’ll take you to bed and tie your delicate ankles to your wrists so that your beautiful cunt is at the mercy of my fingers and tongue—and finally my cock. I could fuck you for hours, plunging in and out of you.”
My body responded to the promise of his words, wanting to be at his mercy
“I choose all of the above,” I whispered.
“Unfortunately, I can’t cancel these meetings.”
“Then we better make this quick,” I whispered, tilting my lips closer to his.
Alexander’s mouth slanted over mine, kissing me until I forgot about his carefully styled hair and the troubles waiting outside our front door.
Norris handed me off to Belle at the entrance to Tamara’s Boutique. Despite knowing Daniel was in jail, it comforted me to have the trustworthy bodyguard escorting me. I knew, though, that hired muscle was only a Band-Aid fix. I had to rip it off and face the sting of fear that followed. I couldn’t allow the past to destroy the fragile happiness Alexander and I had finally found. My best friend hugged me tightly.
“I’ve got her from here,” she promised him.
“I won’t be far.” He patted the pocket of his blazer.
Sooner or later I’d want the freedom to come and go as I pleased. For now, my fear was too fresh to go un-bandaged.
The shop occupied a small space in Kensington, but there was no questioning that its clientele was posh. Heavy silk curtains draped the storefront windows, allowing light inside but granting privacy to its exclusive patrons. Plush rugs scattered the battered wooden floor that was typical of a shop of its age. There were very few dresses on display; rather the entire shop centered around a cluster of overstuffed lounge chairs and settees. Edward had already taken up residence in the center of one, and he stood in greeting as Belle and I arrived.
Despite it being a dress shop, there was no doubt he belonged here. Dressed in a striking blue oxford and gray trousers, he looked every bit the fashion genius I knew him to be. Edward adjusted his horn-rimmed glasses to peer at us. I’d opted for the comfort of a t-shirt and jeans, uncertain how many ensembles I’d be forced to try on, but Belle matched him tit-for-tat in style, clad in a flowing cashmere sweater paired with skin-tight leather pants and ankle boots.
“Ladies.” He spread his hands in welcome.
Belle kissed his cheeks, taking both his offered hands as if they were already old friends. Then they both rounded on me.
“How are you?” Edward asked seriously. His blue eyes shone with concern, making him look even more like his brother.
My eyes flashed to Belle for confirmation of what I already knew. She’d told him about the attack. “You two have gotten close.”
“He knew something was up,” she said, crossing her thin arms over her chest.
“When Norris calls to arrange a transfer of custody—and I’m quoting him here,” Edward interjected, “it’s hard not to realize something’s happened. Don’t be angry with her. I pushed her to tell me.”
“I’m not angry. It’s hard to explain. I don’t mind you knowing, but I don’t want you to worry,” I said. “I’m fine really. Alexander is only being protective.”
I plopped down onto a velvet divan with a sigh. Apparently there’d be no escape from the drama currently surrounding my personal life. It helped knowing that they were merely worried, but what I really needed was a break from the events of the prior weekend.
Edward cocked an eyebrow, suggesting he didn’t buy it, but made no further comment.
“For a dress shop, there are very few gowns,” I said, hastily trying to change the subject.
“We’re here for a private showing,” he informed me. Edward waited
for Belle to sit before taking a chair for himself. “Tamara has all your measurements and she’s arranged for an exclusive preview of her winter line.”
“Ohhhh!” Belle’s bright eyes widened in anticipation. “I hope you brought a blank check.”
Edward waved off the comment. “Alexander has made all the necessary arrangements. I’m under orders that you should take everything you like.”
Somehow it didn’t surprise me that my domineering lover had seen to this. He’d been extra protective the last few days, at times his behavior bordering on fanatical.
Tamara turned out to be a forty-something firecracker with more edge than most of the women half her age. She wore her platinum hair bobbed at the chin. Coupled with her chic wrap dress and knee-high boots, she could easily have passed for one of the models and not the designer herself.
“This must be Clara.” She eyed me appraisingly and then smiled with approval. “You are going to look divine in my platinum evening gown.”
I wasn’t certain I’d have much of an occasion to wear something like that, but I nodded, finding myself eager to please her.
“The models will be out presently. Can I offer you a refreshment?” she asked. “Sparkling water? Champagne?”
“Coffee?” I asked hopefully, my American nerves winning out over my desire to appear posh.
She disappeared into the back room, leaving us to chat.
“How’s David?” I asked Edward, who beamed at the mention of his boyfriend’s name.
“No one has ever been so happy to be splashed on the cover of a tabloid,” he admitted with a rueful grin. “Unfortunately, that’s not a sentiment my father shares.”
“Sod him,” Belle said, earning an appreciative laugh from Edward.
“Indeed. It’s incredible how much lighter I feel,” he confessed. “I should have outed myself years ago.”
“Hearts are broken all over England,” I informed him. “The crown’s most eligible bachelor has been caught.”
