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

by Geneva Lee

  “I’ll be waiting,” I said, but he had already hung up.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Leaving London proper in the evening was always a gamble. My heart sank when I exited Peters & Clarkwell to discover cars packed in tight rows down the street. The sleek black Rolls-Royce edged through the standstill traffic and roared to the curb. I rushed to slide into the back seat, not waiting for Norris to get out and open the door. How I’d made it through the last few hours of work without going crazy, I would never know. I didn’t want to stay in limbo a second longer. As soon as I shut the door, Norris steered us swiftly into an opening in the traffic jam.

  I left the privacy glass down, preferring not to be alone right now. Not much of a talker, Norris’ silent presence was better than nothing. But I couldn’t escape the onslaught of what-if’s swirling through my mind. My thoughts jumbled together, making it impossible to seize on one and fully think it through. Instead, I was trapped with flashes of memory and half-cooked theories. I’d gone into survival mode, not allowing myself to reach a logical hypothesis on what was about to happen. Instinct told me to protect myself, to brace for the worst, even as confusion churned in my stomach. I’d gone into my separation with Alexander clinging to the faith that we would come out on the other side together. I’d held to that belief for as long as possible. Some days it was easier than others. Today wasn’t one of those days. I was certain of one thing:

  I loved him.

  More than I had yesterday or the day before that. Less than I would tomorrow. My love for Alexander had only grown during our time apart, and it was stronger than my doubt. If Alexander was lost, I would find him. If he was broken, I would fix him. We would fix each other. There was no alternative. There never was with love. Giving up just wasn’t an option. Not anymore. Not without giving up on him. I saw Alexander for who he was. I loved him for the man he wanted to be and the man he would become. I was all in.

  Norris glanced over his shoulder. “I’m going to cut through Westminster and see if I can avoid A501.”

  “Okay.” I couldn’t care less what route we took. Part of me wanted to tell him to speed up or hop out of the car and jump on the tube. The other part dreaded the oncoming storm. A longer car ride simply gave me more time to prepare for battle. Fate could have her way with my journey, but I’d made up my mind about my own destiny. Alexander wanted to push me away out of a misplaced need to protect me. But the only way I’d ever truly feel safe again was by his side. Alexander’s absence had shown me that he was my other half; being apart from him felt as though I’d been cleaved in two. Half of my body, half of my heart, half of my soul, had been torn away from me. He completed me, and I wasn’t about to let him go, not without a fight.

  Parliament came into view through the front windshield. It filled the space ahead, already glowing with evening spotlights. Big Ben rose beside it. I had no interest in them, though. Instead my gaze flickered out my own window to a relatively new addition to the borough: the Westminster Royal. My heart lurched as I gazed at the windows of the top floor. It felt like an eternity had passed since I’d agreed to meet Alexander there. So many things had changed even though all around me were timeless reminders of the past. For a moment I wished time had reversed and Norris was taking me there. I wished I could loop my memories and live within them. It would be so much easier than fighting.

  But it wouldn’t be real.

  Instead of cutting through Westminster, the car banked left to cross the bridge. I leaned forward, peering over the driver’s seat. “This really is the long way home.”

  “Alexander asked me to make a stop,” Norris said, offering no further information. It was one thing to not be talkative, it was another thing altogether to be cryptic.

  Outside the window, the River Thames blurred along with the swarms of tourists taking photos along the famous Westminster Bridge. The speed of the car wiped away their expressions as we passed, making the external world appear as muddled as I felt inside. Ahead of us a number of cars had stopped, taking up both sides of the bridge. We slowed as we approached before Norris finally braked entirely. I scooted to the left side of the seat and rolled down my window, trying to get a glimpse of why we were suddenly stuck. There were no emergency crews or medics nearby, only clusters of excited tourists and security guards.

  Private security guards.

  I’d just processed that information when Norris unbuckled his seat belt and exited the vehicle. He opened the back door and helped me out of the car. Smoothing my pencil skirt, I searched the crowd for signs of Alexander, but he was nowhere to be seen. I buttoned my wool coat against the crisp autumn air. I lifted my hair from under the collar, trying to make myself look presentable. I hadn’t seen Alexander for weeks and I was in work clothes. At least my Alexander McQueen coat flared elegantly at the waist, lending a feminine edge to my ensemble. I didn’t think to grab my purse.

  Turning to Norris, I raised an eyebrow. “Why am I here?”

  His answering smile caught me off-guard. Norris was a subtle man, favoring restraint in conversation and emotions. But right now, he didn’t bother to hide his feelings. It was a strange mix of joy and anxiety and confidence. He motioned toward the stone steps that led to the attractions that lined the river’s southern bank. My gaze followed the gesture, surprised to see that the sea of tourists had parted into neat lines on either side of the stairs. Strangers snapped photos as I approached, and I fumbled for the railing. My apprehension turned to confusion when I spotted two familiar faces watching me from the landing that led to the next flight of stairs.

  Edward beamed at me, standing hand in hand with David. I focused on reaching them, knowing they had answers. But when I stepped in front of them, Edward produced a single rose from behind his back.

  “For today,” he said softly.

  My eyes smarted. I didn’t quite understand what was happening yet even though my heart raced in my chest, trying to explain what I couldn’t grasp. Alexander hadn’t forgotten to send a rose. He’d known he was coming home and arranged this…this…That was what I couldn’t process. What was this?

  I looked to David, hoping for another clue. His mouth twitched as he glanced quickly at Edward before revealing another crimson rose. “For tomorrow.”

  Tears broke free and trickled down my cheeks. I accepted the flowers and a crushing hug from each of them. Every few steps another person would step forward and offer me a rose.

  “For Thursday!” A woman exclaimed, thrusting a rose into my hand.

  “For Friday.”

  For October. For November. For Christmas morning. It was hard to wipe away the tears clinging to my lashes with an arm full of roses, but I continued, laughing and crying. My nose began to run. No doubt it was beet red. I probably looked a fright, and I couldn’t care less. Nearly tripping on the last step of the second flight of stairs, I shifted the roses in my arms to free a hand. There was no way I was ruining this moment by falling and breaking my neck. Someone lifted the roses from my arms, and I whipped around to find Belle behind me. I didn’t need a mirror to see what my tear-stained face looked like, because Belle was crying as hard as I was. I folded my arms around her, love flooding through me. When we finally broke apart, she handed me a tissue. I dabbed and blotted until she gave me a firm nod of approval.

  “You knew about this when you met me this afternoon,” I accused.

  She smiled smugly and shrugged her shoulders. “Everyone knows to call me for backup.”

  “Will you hold those for me?” I asked. Something told me there were more roses coming my way.

  “Always,” she promised. “I’m always here for you.”

  Her reminder only made me cry harder. Belle playfully shoved me toward the final flight of steps. “He’s waiting for you.”

  I continued, surprised to see my parents mid-way down the steps. They handed me a rose together.

  “For the hard times,” my mother whispered.

  In that moment, I didn’t care
about my father’s betrayal or how my mother had handled it. No matter what happened, they’d be there for me. In their own twisted way, of course.

  Lola smiled up at me from the next step, offering me another lovely stem. “For past mistakes.”

  I didn’t recognize any of the people who lined the path that led along the riverbank. They were strangers, but they all held roses, guiding me toward my future. Lights twinkled in the trees, casting a dreamy glow as dusk faded to moonlight. A few handed me their roses as I passed, others simply cast them to the ground to line my path with beauty. A little girl broke free from her mother and toddled over to me. She held a rose up to me, and I crouched down to accept it.

  “Luf,” she said with a sweet baby lisp.

  I tucked her pigtail over her shoulder and I gave her a hug.

  For love.

  All of this for love.

  Straightening back up, I noted that the London Eye had stopped spinning. The towering ferris wheel ran constantly during tourist hours, but now it was still. I zeroed in on it, barely processing the rest of the well-wishers or the flashes of camera phones. At the ramp where a line of passengers should be, I found a man in a dark suit. He inclined his head and I spotted the earpiece he wore. Unhooking the rope that barred the VIP entrance to the popular attraction, he stepped aside. I climbed the stairs slowly, my pulse pounding so quickly that I trembled.

  At the base of the wheel, a single passenger capsule waited with Alexander inside. His dark suit was cut to display his athletic form, although the sleeves strained against his biceps. Looking closer, I gasped. It was the exact suit he’d worn the day we met, down to the loose tie and unbuttoned collar. Our eyes met and his mouth curved into a wicked smile that sent heat rushing to my cheeks.

  “Quite the gesture, X,” I called as I approached him.

  “I have one more rose for you,” he said, but he didn’t move to give it to me. Instead he waited for me to enter the passenger capsule. Behind me the door slid shut and I startled, pivoting around to discover the glass pod had begun to move, slowly rotating toward the stars. For a second I lost myself to the stunning view of nighttime London glittering against the mirrored backdrop of the Thames. When I turned back to Alexander, he was no longer standing.

  I clapped a hand over my mouth. His palm cupped the blossom of a rose and nestled in the velvet petals was a ring. Like Alexander, it was nothing like I might have dreamed of as a little girl. Dozens of tiny diamonds circled a flawless and fiery ruby. The brilliant lights shining in from outside the pod glinted through it, making it blaze with undeniable beauty.

  “For always,” Alexander promised. “Marry me, Clara.”

  It wasn’t a question, even though he was on one knee. Even kneeling, Alexander couldn’t restrain his dominant nature. My emotions warred within me, overwhelming me. I wanted to slip the ring on my finger. I wanted to run away. I wanted to cry and kiss him and say yes. I wanted to slap some sense into him.

  “I…I…” I didn’t know which side would win out.

  “I suspected as much. You’re always overthinking things, poppet.” Alexander got to his feet and took my hand. “When will you learn to do as I tell you?”

  “I’d say I’ve been an excellent student regarding that in the bedroom.” I sucked in a breath and searched for strength. I’d come here, prepared to fight for him, but I wasn’t ready for this. “But not so much outside of it.”

  “That’s exactly why we’re here,” Alexander confessed. “I have you trapped for the next thirty minutes.”

  “We’re in a glass capsule,” I reminded him.

  “It would be too easy to seduce you.” He drew me against him, and I shuddered at the pleasure of touching him again. My reaction didn’t go unnoticed. Alexander cocked an eyebrow as if to say see what I mean?

  “So what is your plan?” I asked. My heart fluttered as my eyes darted between his perfect face and the ring he still held in offering.

  “To convince you to become my wife.” He slanted his head and captured my lips. It wasn’t the hungry, barely restrained kiss we usually shared. This one was gentle and filled with unspoken promises. When he drew back, I resisted the urge to drag his mouth back to mine. He might not be trying to seduce me into a yes, but if I didn’t get control over my body, that was exactly what would happen.

  He took a gentlemanly step away, giving our bodies enough space to allow us to focus. Alexander placed the flower and ring into his jacket pocket. Then crooked his finger, tempting me closer.

  Regardless of what decision I made, it had been far too long since he’d held me. I went to his arms without question. He spun me around, so that I looked out over London. Enfolding me in his arms, he whispered into my ear.

  “All of this. Yours.”

  A stranger might have confused his softly-spoken words, thinking that he was tempting me. But I heard the brittle edge in his voice. It wasn’t a temptation, it was a warning. Choosing Alexander meant choosing duty over freedom. Marrying him meant giving up the life I’d planned on for one of inconceivable responsibility. If I became his wife, every moment of my life would be scrutinized and dissected from the clothes I wore to the events I attended. I’d had a taste of that life. The vultures had descended prematurely to pick me apart, and I couldn’t claim to bear no scars.

  “It’s selfish of me to ask you this,” he continued. “I have few choices in life. Duty binds me to this country, and I know I’m asking you to bind yourself, too. But there is one choice I can make. I can choose you, and I will choose you—above all else—for the rest of my life.”

  I stared out over the water as the wheel reached its apex and began its descent down. Choices were one thing I had an abundance of. I could choose my career. My friends. I could choose to get on a plane and start over. I could choose any man I wished.

  And I knew my decision was already made.

  I chose Alexander, even at the expense of all else.

  “Yes,” I murmured.

  Alexander stilled, his arms tightening around my waist.

  “Yes,” I said more loudly. This time there was no doubting my answer. Alexander released my waist and stepped between me and the capsule’s curved glass. He drew the ring from his pocket and slipped it over my trembling finger. Certainty washed over me as its weight settled against my skin. It belonged there. It always had. Alexander kissed the hand that now wore his ring.

  “Yes, yes, yes.” The answer tumbled from me, each acceptance more certain than the last.

  Alexander scooped me off my feet and swung me around. “I’d never experienced joy until the first time I kissed you.”

  “Then kiss me again,” I breathed. He set me on the rail that ran the perimeter of the capsule, wedging himself between my legs, which wrapped possessively around him. Alexander tipped my chin up and kissed me deeply. His hand settled on the back of my neck, cradling my head tenderly. His movements were slow with adoration.

  He broke this kiss, nuzzling his nose against my cheek. “You have no idea how difficult it is to not take you on the spot.”

  “People in glass capsules should probably keep their pants on.” I grinned widely at him.

  “Then I hope you don’t have plans this evening,” he said dryly.

  “I have plans every night for the rest of my life,” I whispered. His response was swift and urgent. Fingers tangled in my hair, tugging it to give him better access to my mouth. My hands clenched his lapels as I pressed myself against him. The hunger between us grew greater as we held our bodies in check.

  “Show’s not over,” Alexander murmured against my lips. He set me on my feet, and I realized the wheel had nearly completed its rotation. We were back where we started, and yet, we were only just beginning. A giggle bubbled through me and I caught Alexander’s hand as the spinning stopped.

  “Show?” I repeated breathlessly.

  “I’ve been forced to share you with the world since the day I met you,” he said, bringing my hand up to his lips as the ca
psule’s door opened to dozens of camera flashes. “This was one moment I wanted to share. I wanted everyone to know that Clara Bishop chose me.”

  “I’ll always choose you.” I couldn’t imagine anyone taking his place. In that moment, there was only Alexander, but I couldn’t help winking at him. “What if I’d said no?”

  “I knew you wouldn’t.” His shoulders straightened, and he winked back. How did he make cockiness so damn sexy? He led me off the London Eye and toward the throng of people awaiting us. Lifting my left hand for everyone to see, he shouted, “She said yes!”

  The crowd erupted in cheers, but I hardly noticed as Alexander kissed me again, sealing our promise as the world looked on.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  We spent the next hour exchanging hugs with the family and friends Alexander had invited to participate in his audacious proposal. Belle kept grabbing my hand to inspect the ring. My mother was already planning the wedding. Edward seemed keen to help her. When Alexander finally extricated us from the small crowd of well-wishers, I was more than ready to be alone with him.

  “Take me home, and take me to bed,” I murmured as he helped me into the back of the car.

  Alexander slid in beside me. “Try to stop me.”

  I climbed into his lap, lingering in the bliss of this evening’s euphoria. Since I’d made my decision, I’d been shown again and again that it was the right one. Marrying Alexander and accepting the responsibilities that came with wedding the heir to the throne was going to be difficult, but I no longer wanted easy. Not if it meant being without him.

  He fingered the ring I wore and then smiled boyishly. It was unusual. So unlike the dominant, powerful man that had enthralled me since the day we met.

  “This was my mother’s,” he admitted.

  “Oh,” I gasped. I saw the ring in a whole new light now.