by Geneva Lee
My hand slid up to spread her open, revealing the delicate pink spot that was my favorite place in the whole world. My lips closed greedily over her cunt, sucking relentlessly until I’d drawn her clit out. I swirled my tongue over the engorged nub, a rush of testosterone washing through me as she whimpered. Her hips circled against me and my hands flew to her ass, encouraging her to rock against my mouth.
I wanted to devour her. I wanted to turn her inside fucking out on my tongue.
“Fuck my face,” I ordered her in a muffled voice, my mouth still full of her.
But she got the message.
“Oh god, yessss.” Clara pitched against me, my hands rolling her toward me until she lost control, bucking hard as my tongue stroked inside her. Her hands wove into my hair and yanked as she melted over me. Her thighs snapped closed on my face, but I wasn’t finished yet. Slowly I licked, savouring her taste and the way she quivered on my tongue.
“Stop,” she pleaded. “Please.”
I kissed her trembling sex softly as I pried her legs back open. Straightening, I gripped her hips in my hands and waited until she looked down at me. Even in the room’s low light, I could see the dark flush colouring her skin as she shyly met my eyes.
“When you go back out there and from this day forward, remember this,” I said, my voice thick with arousal, “you’ve brought me to my knees. You’ve brought me to my fucking knees, Clara.”
I nuzzled against her stomach, holding her steady until her shaking subsided.
“Can you stay upright?” I asked when she was still.
“You’re getting cocky, X,” she said, but when she let go of my hair, her hands dropped to brace themselves against the desk.
I smirked, pushing to my feet. “Wait here.”
A moment later, I returned from the attached washroom with a soft towel.
“Don’t want me walking around with wet panties?” she asked with a wry smile as I carefully dried her.
“Do you really think you’re getting those back, Poppet?” I patted the slight bulge in my pocket. “I would have stayed down there until I’d licked up every bit of you, but you have a curious habit of just getting wetter.”
“Imagine that.” Reaching up, she fisted my tie and drew me closer. Her nose wrinkled. “You smell like…”
“Glorious, isn’t it?” I couldn’t keep myself from winking at her.
“But all of those people.” She shook her head. “Every single person out there is going to know that…”
“That I’m the luckiest man on Earth?” I finished for her.
“X!”
“I happen to love smelling like you, and I happen to love knowing everyone will know that I just took you. I want them to know I can’t keep my hands off of you. I want every man out there to be jealous.” I tipped her chin up, forcing her to meet my eyes. “I want them all to know you’re mine.”
“They don’t need to know I belong to you,” she whispered, “as long as you know.”
I gathered her in my arms, planting a kiss on her forehead. “I know, Poppet.”
And God help me, I belonged to her.

After I cleaned myself up, we slipped back toward the party, stopping several times to steal kisses before we reached the guests.
Edward, looking dashing in a navy suit, caught us at the door. “Shameless,” he said with mock reprobation, “if you two are going to be constantly mating, you should have your own nature show.”
“I’ll get the BBC on that,” Clara said dryly.
“Tori and Bennett have been looking for you,” Edward said.
“Are you trying to steal my fiancée?” I asked as he pushed her playfully toward the corridor.
“I’m trying to save her from your insatiable sexual appetite,” Edward said, dragging her away from me.
She cast an apologetic look at me, shrugging a little. Once she was my wife, Edward was going to find it much harder to pry her from me. The thought did nothing to alleviate the situation in my trousers. But despite that, I felt lighter than I had in weeks. Clara and I had holed up for much of the last few months, caught up in each other. Unfortunately, these types of events were only going to become more common. But despite the fears she’d expressed to me, she had nothing to worry about. She’d charmed everyone. Edward already loved her like a sister. I had to believe the rest would fall into place. I chose to believe it.
A waiter paused with a tray and I took a champagne flute from it, nodding my thanks. Taking a sip, I swallowed with a gulp as the slow chill of delayed recognition traveled over me. Whipping around, I ran into a man behind me. Muttering an apology, I darted through the crowd, searching for the waiter.
His back was to me and I bolted for him. Grabbing for his shoulder, I seized a hold of him. His tray crashed to the ground as I hauled him around.
“Hey, watch it, mate!” The stranger glared as I dropped my hold on him. His expression shifted to one of horror when he realized who I was. “I’m so sorry, Your Highness. It was my fault.”
“I’m sorry,” I stumbled over the apology, feeling stupid. Bending to help him pick up the tray, I saw the remains of an assortment of crudités. “Weren’t you serving champagne?”
“No, just these,” he replied as he scooped them back onto the tray.
Bounding back to my feet, I scoured the crowd from him, but I knew it was too late.
Daniel had slipped through my fingers again.
Chapter Seven
Alexander
Scanning the crowd I tried to control my panic. My whole body was on alert, every impulse focused on finding Clara. When I finally spotted her, I took a deep breath and shot off a text to Norris.
But I didn’t take my eyes off of her. Each second stretched into an unbearable eternity, only serving to intensify my protective instinct. The longer it took for Norris to report to me, the more I wanted to go after Daniel myself. But that would mean letting Clara out of my sight—and that wasn’t going to happen.
Norris appeared across the room and I beckoned for him to join me.
“Perimeter is secure,” he whispered, his lips barely moving. He understood the importance of keeping this quiet. If the press discovered Clara was being stalked, they would have a field day. The attention could force Daniel further into hiding, or it could fuel his mania. With the psychopathic behavior her ex-boyfriend had shown so far, I didn’t dare find out what direction he would take. “And I put a man on her.”
I searched the crowd surrounding Clara and finally spotted the undercover security officer casually tailing her as she chatted with her former co-workers, Bennett and Tori. Clara laughed, and though I couldn’t hear it from this distance, a bit of the pressure sitting on my chest lessened. As I watched her, she bent and placed a hand on Tori’s belly. A moment later, her face lit up. A strange sensation came over me at the sight, but I didn’t have time to question it.
“Follow me.” Disposing of my champagne flute on a nearby side table, I manoeuvred through the crowd until I spotted her. The momentary lightness that had overcome me when I saw Clara evaporated, replaced almost instantly by a heavy weight—the burden of the past.
Georgia leaned against the wall, her head angled flirtatiously as she giggled at whatever Brex had just said to her. I had to give her full props for her performance. I also made a mental note to warn Brexton. He might still be a ladies’ man, but Georgia Kincaid was as far from a lady as they came.
I strode up to Georgia and caught her elbow. “I hate to interrupt the foreplay, but I need to speak to you.”
“Excuse us.” She flashed a dazzling smile over her shoulder as I directed her toward the hall. As soon as we were away from the party, she yanked her arm away and cast dirty looks at Norris and me.
“You aren’t much of a host, Alex,” she said.
“Don’t call me Alex.” I couldn’t meet her eyes. I didn’t want to.
She leaned toward me, tilting her head to catch my distant gaze. “I have oth
er things I can call you if that’s what you still prefer.”
“That won’t be necessary in our current arrangement.” My stomach clenched as an unbidden image of Georgia on her knees swam to my mind. I shook it away, but the feeling of self-loathing that accompanied it didn’t dissipate. “I presume Hammond sent you for a reason.”
“I’m not delivering jewelry,” she confirmed. Georgia crossed her slender arms over her chest and waited.
It was a smart move. No one would guess what this beautiful woman really was. That didn’t mean I liked having her here.
“So he assigned you,” I murmured, rubbing the back of my neck as I digested this new information.
“He’s sentimental,” she said flatly. “Is there a reason for this little rendezvous? Not that I mind a reunion.”
“I spotted the mark in the crowd. My men are looking for him, but I want you to find out how he got in here. And I want you to find him.”
Georgia shrugged as if I’d just asked her to show me to the loo. “And what should I do with him when I have him?”
“I’ll leave that to your discretion.” I didn’t want to know what she did to him once she found him. Not purely because of the potential legal issues.
“Excellent. As you know”—she trailed a finger over my buttons—“I can be very discreet.”
I caught her wrist and jerked her hand away. “Then be discreet.”
“Your father would be thrilled to know he did such a number on you.” She didn’t bother to hide her disgust from her voice. “Does she even know?”
It wasn’t any of her business. Not anymore. But I answered anyway. “She knows.”
“I didn’t know she had it in her.” Georgia smirked, obviously impressed. “Then again you can never really tell, right? It takes all kinds. Maybe later she and I could chat—girl to girl. Sub to sub.”
“Clara isn’t my sub. I’m not in the lifestyle. I never truly was.” Georgia took a step forward and lowered her voice, so that Norris couldn’t hear. “I have a scar on the back of my left thigh that says otherwise.” She moved away from me, adding, “Neither am I. We were young. Impetuous.”
That wasn’t the word I would choose to describe our former relationship, but I wasn’t exactly interested in a trip down memory lane.
“Well, I have a crazy asshole to hunt down.” She winked at me. “But later, you’re giving me Brexton’s number.”
Like hell I was. I pressed my lips into a thin smile. Georgia sighed and sauntered back to the party.
Norris moved to my side and cleared his throat as we watched her walk away. “Miss Kincaid.” He let her name hang in the air without further comment.
“I should have suspected Hammond would pull something like this,” I said disdainfully.
My old friend said nothing. He’d already made his feelings on asking for Hammond’s assistance known. Jack Hammond was the last man that I wanted to owe, but I didn’t have another choice. Not when Daniel had eluded my own teams for over five months.
Norris pressed a hand to his earpiece, listening intently. When he turned his attention back to me, his expression was grim. “The sweep is complete. We’ve found no trace of him.”
I sucked in a breath. Daniel had managed to evade me again at one of the most heavily secured private events of the year.
“Speak to the caterer,” I advised Norris, “and find out if Daniel was actually on the wait staff this evening.”
Norris nodded, then paused. “We will contain this situation.”
“Will we?” I shook my head, frustration getting the better of me. “Clara is too accessible until this wedding is over. There are too many opportunities for him to get to her. Six weeks.”
“And after the wedding?” Norris asked.
“It’s been a while since the Royal family did a goodwill tour of America.” If I had to cross the Atlantic Ocean to remove this threat, so be it. “He’ll never make it through customs.”
Norris said nothing, but I knew what he was thinking. Daniel wasn’t acting alone. Someone was backing him, providing him with help to stay hidden from the teams I had searching for him. It was why I’d been forced to bring in Hammond in the first place.
“And until then?” Norris asked. “He’s making his presence known. I don’t have to tell you he’s sending us a message.”
He was right. The threat was clear. Daniel was practically taunting us, and we were no closer to catching up to him. It was inexplicable. The man had no former ties to military or police. He’d taken a mathematics degree at Oxford. Yet he’d managed to evade us at every turn. “Now”—I straightened my tie—“I speak to my father. Arrange it.”

I sipped my bourbon. It burned down my throat, scalding away the sour taste of the last few minutes. Dropping into a leather cigar chair, I slowly took in my surroundings. I hadn’t been in this room since I was a child. Then it had been my father’s study. It hadn’t been used by anyone in years, not after my grandfather’s passing when my family had made the move to Buckingham.
Clarence House had been my childhood home. It was the only one of my family’s residences that truly held any pleasant memories for me. Happiness haunted its halls, a ghost always on my periphery that seemed impossible to catch.
Abandoning my drink, I moved to the large oak desk on the other side of the room. Riffling through its drawers, I finally found it. I took the picture of my mother out and carried it back to the chair—and my drink.
I’d lived without my mother for long enough that her picture usually only produced a mild ache of regret. Looking at her now, I saw myself reflected in her. Dark hair and brilliant eyes set against honey skin. I’d been blessed that I’d taken after her in the looks department. But it wasn’t only myself that I saw in her.
I saw Clara.
She had been our family’s rock—its center. We’d been off-balance since the day she died. I’d been young enough to not lose all faith when my mother died—she had been a piece of my life. Now Clara filled that missing part of me. I’d finally found my center again in Clara and the thought of losing her was impossible to consider.
“I assume you have a reason for hiding from your own party.” My father crossed to the bar cart and poured himself a drink. “And for calling me away from the guests.”
“I had no idea you were enjoying yourself so much,” I said dryly. “It’s particularly surprising given how much you fought Edward on using Clarence House as the venue.”
“Clarence House is an official Royal residence,” he reminded me. “I was simply adhering to protocol regarding its use. If the house were occupied by one of my sons, it wouldn’t have been an issue.”
It was so like my father to play wounded, but I knew it was merely a trap to lure me closer so he could attack.
“All the more reason it should never have been an issue.” We took sips from our respective glasses, staring at one another over the rims. His eyes darted to the photo I’d left propped on the side table.
“It’s a shame she couldn’t be here,” I said.
“Your mother would not have approved of this situation. She adhered to tradition.”
“She loved you,” I said quietly. “God knows why, but she did. She had no interest in tradition. Her only interest was in this family.”
“What do you want, Alexander?” he asked finally. “Or can you bring yourself to ask anything of me?”
“Can you bring yourself to give me anything?” I countered.
A muscle in his jaw tensed as he shook his head. “You know the expectations.”
“Let’s not pretend that this is about anything but wanting me to grovel. You have no intention of approving our marriage. That much is clear.”
“Now we get to it.” He rested his drink on the arm of the chair, relaxing a bit. “No, I do not, and yet, you continue with the charade.”
“The invitations have been sent,” I reminded him. “In six weeks, I will make Clara my wife.”
“In six weeks you will stage a mockery not only of marriage but of Clara. The crown will not recognize her as your wife.” His words cut, but they didn’t sting. I’d long since become numb to the damage my father inflicted.
I cleared my throat and forced myself to speak. “The threat to Clara’s safety has increased. My personal teams are managing it, but I’d like the assistance of the King’s Guard.”
“This is what you choose to ask for?” He snorted, a caustic smile flashing over his pale face. “The King’s Guard ensures the safety of the Royal family. Clara is not a Royal.”
My fist slammed into the side table. “She will be in six weeks.”
“No, my son”—he stood and glowered at me—“she won’t be.”
My jaw locked with the effort of restraining myself. “When will this punishment end?”
“That is up to you. I’m not punishing you, Alexander.”
“Like hell, you aren’t!” I roared.
“Expectations aren’t punishment,” he said with meaning. “The sooner you understand that, the better. You might think it’s acceptable to play house and stage elaborate public spectacles to undermine my authority, but I assure you that they will do nothing to affect my opinion of this situation. Your future is on the throne. You belong here. Until you understand that, I can’t condone your marriage—for the sake of the monarchy.”
“Sod the monarchy,” I growled.
He grimaced, glancing at me before turning his back and disappearing from the room.
Realization settled heavily over me. There was only one way to ensure the highest level of security for Clara. I stood and headed after him before I lost my nerve.
Rounding the corner of the morning room, I beckoned for a waiter. Swiping a champagne flute from his tray, I lifted it and called out over the crowd. “Pardon the interruption.”
