by Geneva Lee
“What have I gotten myself into?” I asked in a soft voice.
Jane settled into the chair across from mine and took my hand. Her gray eyes that usually sparkled with mischief grew serious. “Do you love him?”
I nodded, a lump forming in my throat as I considered how much. “I can’t imagine my future without him.”
“Then it doesn’t matter who he is or what people think. Relationships are hard for everyone, even people who don’t live their lives on the front page. They take work and commitment. Are you willing to fight for him?” she asked.
“Yes.” I’d already fought for him, and I wasn’t about to give him up for anything.
“And he’s willing to fight for you?”
Despite the tears threatening to show themselves, I smiled and nodded. I had no doubt Alexander would fight for me, too. We’d overcome so much in our short relationship. I sensed there were more obstacles ahead, but I could face any of them with him at my side.
“If you’re both willing to work and willing to fight for each other, then you’ll stick together even when things get tough. Just remember this: at the end of the day, he’s a man and you’re a woman, and you chose each other. You’re commitment to one another is all that matters. The rest is just background noise.”
She squeezed my hand and I squeezed back.
“Now get upstairs,” she demanded, tossing her head toward the door. “I’m not going out with you if you’re planning on wearing that.”
“And what is wrong with what I’m wearing?” I asked, deliberately baiting her. The navy dress coat, while chic and appropriate for appointments, wasn’t club attire.
“You aren’t the Queen of England yet,” she said flatly. “Tonight you’re just a twenty-something hitting a bar.”
And that was exactly what I needed—to blend in, to get lost in a crowd, to dance mindlessly.
To forget for just a few hours that my whole world was about to change.

“What is this?” I asked suspiciously when Belle tossed a pink shopping bag in my direction.
“A little something sexy,” she said, shrugging innocently. She flopped onto her bed and waved her hand. “Open it.”
“I didn’t expect presents.” Apparently I had a lot to learn about hen nights before it was my turn to plan Belle’s in a few months.
“Of course!” Belle giggled, tossing her blonde curls over her shoulder. She looked like she was about to burst with excitement.
Discarding the paper wrapping, I drew out what could best be described as a collection of straps held together by very little fabric. I held the lingerie up. “Oh, they’re panties!”
“Knickers,” Belle corrected me, wrinkling her nose. “Your American is showing.”
It was an innocent reminder, but it set off alarm bells. I inhaled deeply, trying to steady the race of my pulse.
“You look ill,” Belle said. She sat up and patted the bad next to her.
Dropping down next to her, I crossed my legs and unleashed a torrent of anxiety. “I am American. I mean, not legally, but let’s face it, I was raised in America. For every person who doesn’t care about that, ten more do, including Alexander’s father. I’m never going to fit in.”
“And that’s why Alexander loves you,” Belle reminded me gently. “And why I love you and Edward loves you. You’re our Clara. We don’t care where you were born.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes. Although you have to stop saying panties. Promise me.” Belle held up her pinkie.
Rolling my eyes, I hooked my little finger around hers and we shook.
“I think you’re going to be just fine.”
Belle bounded up and threw open her closet door. She whirled around and studied me for a minute, her eyebrows knitting together. A few minutes later she’d produced a sequined top and high-waisted leggings. “Comfortable but sexy. You need to be able to dance your ass off.”
“I do, huh?” I inspected the outfit for a moment. I’d spent the last few weeks polishing my wardrobe to look more…royal. Standing I slipped out of my dress coat and slid the top over my head. Tugging it down, I frowned when it barely stretched over my boobs. “This one is a no go.”
“I didn’t think your tits were that much bigger than mine.” Belle disappeared back into her closet.
“I guess they are,” I said dryly.
I pulled the shirt back off, and then unfastened the garter belt I wore. Rolling off my stockings I glanced at the sexy knickers Belle had given me. I shimmied into them, smiling when I realized the bands intersected to create several sexy crosses.
Or Xs, I thought. I considered waiting to wear them for him, but if I had to spend a night away from Alexander, I didn’t mind the sexy reminder. Plus, they were hot. Just the kind of thing that a carefree bride might wear for her hen night. And tonight I was determined to be carefree.
The pants were thankfully a much better fit and I could get away with wearing the Louboutins I’d worn over. Belle reappeared and handed me a red blouse. I put it on and turned toward the mirror. The flowing shirt might not have been sexy, except that it was almost completely see-through.
“Perfect for one last fling,” Belle said with approval.
My mouth fell open and I struggled to come up with a response. Apparently my best friend was spending too much time with her Aunt in my absence.
“I’m kidding,” Belle said, emphasizing each word. “Tonight it’s chicks before dicks, except for Edward,” she tacked on.
I studied myself in the mirror, unable to decide if Alexander would love this shirt or hate it.
“Stop,” Belle ordered.
“What?” I asked in confusion.
“Thinking about him,” she said, holding up a hand so I wouldn’t interrupt. “Don’t try to tell me you aren’t! You get all goofy. Tonight it’s my time. If Alexander is going to steal you from me, I get one night.”
“As long as I get one before Philip steals you.” I smirked.
Belle shrugged, turning away from me, to dig through her cosmetics bag. “Now, sit down and let me finish your camouflage. Those reporters aren’t going to recognize you.”
“Is everything okay?” I asked as she lined my eyes.
“Fine.” But her response was too terse to be believable.
“What’s going on?”
Belle paused, mascara tube frozen in place, and shook her head. “Seeing you and Alexander together, I…Philip and I aren’t like that.”
“Like what?” I asked.
“For starters, Philip and I don’t shag like rabbits all the time. Don’t deny that you two do! I saw you coming out of that room at the engagement party. Alexander can’t keep his hands off of you.”
“And Philip doesn’t…” I trailed away, uncertain if I should press for more information.
“Not like rabbits,” she said ruefully.
“You’ve been together longer.” But we both knew it was an excuse.
“Alexander should be studied for science,” she told me. “It’s inhuman.”
I blushed, shaking my head in confusion. “How—?”
“Thin walls.” She tipped her head toward the hallway that led to my old bedroom. Her face grew serious. “Just answer one question for me: is he the one?”
“Yes,” I said without hesitation.
I wanted to ask her if Philip was the one, but something about the look on her face shut me up. She remained quiet as she finished my makeup, but her silence spoke volumes.

We’d been overdressed for dinner at CoCo’s, but Tori’s presence had made up for that. She was a ball of energy, spilling office gossip and showing off ultrasound pictures. Now that the wild portion of the evening had commenced, I missed the cozy restaurant and easy conversation. Clubs had never really been my scene, but I had it on Belle’s authority that dancing and drinking were required hen night activities.
I tugged at my practically sheer shirt, cursing myself for being talked
into wearing something so revealing. But Belle was right—I didn’t look a thing like the Clara Bishop currently gracing the cover of Time magazine. She’d outdone herself this time, straightening my slight waves into a curtain of sleek mahogany and lining my eyes until they were smokey and sultry. It was a pity Alexander wasn’t invited. I could hardly imagine what he’d think of me.
Or do to me, for that matter.
“We should just wait in line,” I suggested as we pulled up the back entrance of Brimstone. “Nobody will recognize me.”
“But they’ll recognize him.” Lola jerked her thumb toward Edward, who shrugged.
“Sorry,” he said, sounding anything but apologetic. He’d opted for a slim-fitted black suit and plaid bowtie. His black curls were smoothed back and without his usual horn-rimmed glasses, he looked more rockabilly than royalty. But that did nothing to cover his familiar face. Few people were blessed with the genes Edward shared with his brother. There was no doubting who he was.
“If they’re going to recognize him, then why bother at all?”
“Stop worrying and have fun,” my sister ordered me. “I’ve escaped from our mother’s clutches for the evening.”
On cue, her phone began to ring. Lola huffed as she slid it out of her clutch. She was perfectly polished as usual down to the gold clutch and hoops she’d paired with an elegant black jumpsuit. It was an outfit only someone like my sister could pull off.
“Guess who?” she asked flatly before she hit silent and dropped it bag in her bag.
Going in through the back seemed like a great idea, but if the paparazzi were camped out, they’d be all over the rear exit. To my surprise, Norris opened the door to the limousine. He helped me out of the back seat and I was even more shocked to discover the back alley was completely empty.
“Alexander has ensured that your entrance will be private,” Norris explained as I looked around.
Of course he had. Alexander thought of everything. We slipped inside, and my heart sank when I spotted two more private security guards by the door. No doubt the place was crawling with undercover agents.
As Belle sauntered inside, it occurred to me that my group might be hard to miss regardless of security measures. It would be hard to ignore Belle’s tousled blonde hair or her long legs that streamed past a sequined dress that swung just over her ass.
Belle looped her arm through mine and dragged me down the hall and into the pulsating heart of the club. A strange sense of Déjà vu came over me as we stumbled onto the dance floor. I’d been here with her before. In fact, the two nights I’d found myself at Brimstone were burned indelibly in my brain. Closing my eyes I could perfectly picture the club’s flaming murals. I swore I felt the heat of them on my skin. My eyes opened, flashing to the catwalk overhead and beyond that the mirrored windows that overlooked the dance floor. The hair on the back of my neck stood up. Was he in there watching me?
Our circumstances had changed completely since the last time I’d found myself alone in that room with him. That night we’d been caught in a relationship tug-of-war. Neither of us had won then. Now might be a different story.
Well, if he was watching, I might as well put on a good show.
Catching Belle, I hooked an arm around her waist and rocked against her. The music took over and we twisted and writhed to the beat until sweat beaded across my forehead.
Belle nudged me and nodded toward the center of the floor where Aunt Jane had two much younger men grinding against her. I swallowed back a laugh and let the beat carry me away. I felt it in my blood, allowing it to overtake me. There was only one other thing that enabled me to lose myself like this. I pushed the thought of Alexander away.
“C’mon,” Belle called, her voice getting lost in the music.
We sauntered off the floor, leaving Aunt Jane to her prey. Belle led me across the dance floor toward the private rooms above. I guess Alexander wasn’t here this evening, even if his ghost was everywhere. As soon as we were behind the hidden door, she collapsed onto the couch. I tossed her a bottle of water.
“Hydrate,” I ordered her.
Edward stood behind the bar, mixing drinks. Lola was perched on a barstool. I studied them for signs of awkwardness.
“I see we lost someone.”
“Aunt Jane has met a new soul mate,” Belle confirmed. “Or two.”
Edward brought us over drinks and raised his. “To the end of Clara’s single life—and the impending death of ours.”
Belle stuck her tongue out at him, but I clinked my glass. Taking a sip, I gasped.
“Too strong?”
“Is the paint peeling?” I asked, abandoning the drink of the table. “I’m going to run to the loo.”
Belle and Edward exchanged a look.
“I’ll come with you. Give me a sec.” Belle pushed herself up, but I shook my head.
“I’m a big girl, and we all know this place is crawling with security. Enjoy your paint thinner.”
I darted out the door before either could stop me. The club’s music pounded through the hallway as I searched for a bathroom. There had to be one up here for the VIPs. A prickling sensation on the back of my neck froze me in place. I wasn’t alone.
Stop being silly.
“I really don’t need an escort.” I whipped around, planting my hands on my hips. I expected to see Belle or Edward behind me.
But it was him.
Chapter Thirteen
The music faded as our gazes locked across the dark corridor. The low spark inside me that had started on the dance floor ignited. Alexander had dressed down, no doubt to avoid unwanted attention. But seeing him in a loose grey t-shirt with jeans hanging suggestively on his trim hips had the opposite effect on me. I was riveted to him, unable to move and frantic to get to him. He prowled toward me, his face cast in shadows from the low lighting. His eyes were dark, glinting with the hunger I felt.
He didn’t speak as we met. Instead he took my hand and led me toward the end of the hallway. We were alone and surrounded, cloaked by the privacy afforded to the club’s most important patrons. He stopped and placed his hand against the wall, his expression unreadable. A moment later, I was being pulled into another private room.
Alexander had me against the wall. His hands caught my wrists and forced them over my head as he leaned into me.
“Do you remember the first time we were here, Poppet?” His stubble grazed my jaw, sending shivers cascading down my neck. “I wanted to pin you against the wall and make you beg for my cock.”
I whimpered, recalling all too clearly that night. I had thought then that it was impossible to want him more. Now I knew better. My craving for him had grown every day since. My body fought to get closer to his, desperate for nothing to be between us.
Alexander kept my hands pinned above my head. He dipped lower, sealing his mouth over my breast through the thin fabric of my blouse and bra. My nipples stiffened as I felt the wet heat of his tongue. He drew back and hovered over the other breast.
“You wanted it,” he recalled hoarsely. “You wanted to beg, didn’t you?”
His hips rolled, teasing me with the promise of his cock.
“Yes.” My eyes opened meeting his directly. “But not as much as I want you today.”
“You said no that night and then you walked away.” The grind of his hips grew more impatient. “I didn’t know then why I went after you.”
Neither did I. Alexander could have walked downstairs, snapped his finger, and had a dozen women appear. But he had chosen me. A gush of arousal warmed my cleft at the thought.
“You were a challenge,” he admitted gruffly. “This gorgeous woman with the most fuckable body I’d ever seen, who was also smart enough to walk away from me? That was so sexy.”
I bit my lip as my body remembered how it had felt. A switch had flipped that night, casting a light on a side of myself I never knew existed.
“Would you have come back to me?” he asked in a low voice.
“I’ll always come back to you,” I whispered.
Alexander groaned and shifted his weight, crushing me against the wall as his lips captured mine. I lost myself in the kiss. The past, present, and future merged seamlessly with one another. Everything had truly begun here. And even as he reminded me of the past, the only thing on my mind was the life I would spend with this man.
His lips ghosted across my ear. “I’m ready for you to beg now.”
“Please,” I breathed, writhing closer.
Alexander dropped one hand without releasing me. His eyes locked on mine, holding me captive with his gaze. Need surged within me and I arched toward him. Seizing my waist band, he shoved my tight pants down to my feet. His fingertips traveled over my navel and stopped when he reached the first intersecting band of my panties. A curious grin curved across his face as his finger slipped under the elastic.
“What is this?” he asked.
“See for yourself,” I suggested. I already knew the effect the lingerie would have on him.
His eyes dropped and a low growl rumbled through him as he drank in the black straps that crossed and intersected in a series of x’s that left little to the imagination. Following the intersecting bands, he traced an x.
“X marks the spot,” I said.
“Such sexy knickers for a night out with the girls.”
I crooked an eyebrow, an odd sense of satisfaction rolling through me at his jealous tone. “You told me to always be ready,” I purred. “I’m ready.”
He released his hold on my other hand and twirled his finger. “Turn around, Poppet.”
I pivoted slowly, loosely bound by the pants around my ankles. I wanted him to get the full effect, particularly the criss-cross that formed a perfect x over my tailbone and narrowed into a thong.
He stepped closer, his palms caressing over my hip to my tailbone. “This reminds me of ropes and scarves. It makes me think of how your wrists would look bound together.”
His fingers descended farther and I gasped as much from the suggestion of being at his mercy as from his intimate touch.
“When I have you home, I’m going to tie your wrists together and spend all night making you come.” His strong hands cupped my ass cheeks, spreading them as he knelt behind me. His tongue danced over my soaked panties. “As much as I like these…”
