For King and Country (17 page)

“Remember, this is about me, Clara,” he whispered.

I nodded, but my eyes were glued to the group of people in front of me. The blood pounding in my ears made it hard to process what he was saying. Alexander cupped my chin and turned me to face him. His eyes were cold—distant and dead–but I felt his control radiating out from him. It was as though he’d compartmentalized all his emotions in order to deal with tonight. I nodded again, this time giving him the eye contact that he so obviously desired.

“Good girl,” he said, brushing a soft kiss over my lips.

“Alexander,” a voice boomed, startling me away from him. “You’ve kept us waiting long enough.”

“I’m sorry, Father,” Alexander said stiffly. He ran his hand down my bare arm before he turned away from me. “I lost track of my date.”

“How careless.” The King gestured for him to approach. “May I speak with you?”

The implication was clear—the King wanted to speak with him alone—and Alexander moved to join his father.

Their conversation grew heated, voices raising high enough to be heard by those of us waiting in the vicinity. I did my best not to listen, but there was no mistaking the words “slut” and “shame.” Holding my head up, I tried not to wince as the accusations flew between father and son.

The younger version of Alexander approached me, extending his hand. “I’m Edward.”

Of course he was. Edward wore his dark hair longer and it curled past his ears, making him look boyish in comparison to his older brother. But he wore a tux well and he was almost as handsome as Alexander. He grinned at me, and I noted he was quicker with a smile. I shook his hand weakly, unable to speak for fear I would start to cry in front of him.

“Father’s in an awful mood, which is unfortunately quite common.” Edward clasped my hand tightly, searching my face as though he was looking for a clue as to how to make the poor girl he’d just met feel better. I wanted to tell him there was no use, but I knew I would never get it out. “Come over here.”

Edward led me toward a nearby table. “Everyone please allow me to introduce Clara Bishop, my brother’s girlfriend.”

“Oh, I—” My protest was silenced with a warning squeeze.

A tall, sandy-haired man rose, buttoning his dinner jacket and offered his hand. I recognized him at once and fought the urge to check the party for Belle.

“It’s nice to see you, Clara,” Jonathan said as I took his hand. Rather than shaking it, he raised it to his lips.

“You know her, Jonathan?” a petite redhead dressed in ivory asked him. Most girls with such a fair complexion couldn’t have pulled off her gown, but it only made her pale skin seem delicate and elegantly fragile. Her eyes traveled down my body calculatingly before she folded her hands primly on the table.

“Clara and I went to school together,” Jonathan said, but when he raked his gaze across me, he didn’t bother to hide his conclusions. His eyes sparkled like a man who’d discovered he’d been invited to sport.

If Jonathan Thompson thought I was going to play with him, he had another thing coming. My skin crawled where he had touched me, and as soon as I had the chance, I planned to scrub it with soap under scalding hot water.

“This is Amelia,” Edward said, when the girl didn’t introduce herself.

“
Princess
Amelia,” she said flippantly.

Seriously?

“It’s nice to meet you, Your Highness,” I hissed. Everyone here had been born with a silver spoon in their mouth and a stick up their ass.

“Perhaps you’d care to dance,” Jonathan suggested, gesturing to the nearly deserted dance floor.

I did want to dance with Alexander. There was no way I was going to risk being seen with Jonathan, especially since I suspected he saw me as a bit of a challenge. “I’d rather wait for Alexander.”

“Of course,” he said with a nod, averting his eyes from me. “Alexander doesn’t like to share.”

There was a story here. I could feel it, but the last person I was going to ask to share it with me was Jonathan.

“Amelia?” Jonathan held out his hand and the sulky redhead took it, allowing him to sweep her toward the dance floor.

“Then let’s get you a drink,” Edward suggested as we watched them waltz. He looked over my shoulder to the other man at the table. “David?”

“I’ll look after her,” he said stiffly.

Edward pulled a chair out for me and I took it, grateful to be off my feet even if the company was less than welcoming. I glanced at David and realized we were in the same boat.

“You look like you’re enjoying this as much as I am,” I said, not bothering to hide my sarcasm.

A corner of his mouth tugged up, but he only shrugged. “My friends and I have different ideas on how to spend a Friday night.”

“Maybe you should get new friends.” My eyes caught Jonathan’s as he spun Amelia on the dance floor, and he winked at me.

David snorted at me. I turned to face him, finding upon closer inspection that he was very handsome. His ebony skin and closely cropped hair showed off the strong lines of his face, and despite his sullen appearance, his coffee-brown eyes were warm. He was exactly Stella’s type—quiet, brooding, and hot. “Actually,” I said, “I have a friend here that you should meet. You’d like her.”

Guys always do
, I added silently.

“Are we setting David up?” Edward asked with a smile, returning with drinks in hand.

“I think he’d hit it off with my friend, Stella.” Taking my drink, I raised an eyebrow. “What do you think?”

Edward debated for a moment longer, but when he opened his mouth, he was interrupted by the appearance of an older woman that I immediately recognized. The Queen Mother carried herself with the grace and bearing of a woman who bore kings. Age had touched her, turning her dainty curls silver, but there was nothing frail about her. Sweeping up to us in a modest, beaded gown, she stood nearly a foot shorter than her younger grandson. Although the contemptuous look she wore made her seem much larger.

Her eyes narrowed as she assessed me, and her nose pinched as though she’d caught a whiff of something rotten. “So Alexander brought his little tart to ruin his father’s birthday.”

My mouth fell open and I tugged my hand away from Edward, who appeared nearly as shocked as I was.

“Grandmother!” Edward’s tone admonished her, but I didn’t wait around to hear what else she had to say about me. It was bad enough that half the UK was reading my private messages right now. I didn’t have to stand around being insulted by people who thought they were superior to me. Pushing through the crowd, I escaped as quickly as possible. I’d hide out in the loo until Alexander finally came looking for me.

He’d warned me, but he hadn’t
prepared
me.

Tears stung my eyes, spilling over before I finally risked turning around. Edward was nowhere to be seen, but his grandmother had joined the argument that was still going strong between Alexander and his father.

He hadn’t even noticed I was gone.

I felt foolish for coming here—for thinking things couldn’t get more complicated between us.

But I was stuck here with no money and now my feet were killing me. I wasn’t used to the sky-high heels Belle had insisted on.

Belle.

She was here, and therein lay my lifeline if I could just find her. Philip was boring but he could be counted on for chivalry, and right now I needed someone to rescue me. I had friends here, and I had to remember that. I could make it through this evening.

Turning to look for her, I bumped into Pepper.

I opened my mouth to apologize again, but she beat me to it.

“Stupid bitch,” she hissed. “Are you purposefully trying to destroy this dress?”

The urge to cry vanished, replaced by shock, and I gaped at her.

“Oh, you’re as stupid as I assumed,” she continued, her green eyes flickering like a snake’s tongue around the room in disinterest before they came back to glare at me. “Did you really think I wouldn’t mind you ruining my Ralph Lauren?”

“I’m sorry,” I said dumbly, my mind not quite caught up to the surprise, even as my heart began to pound like a war drum in my chest.

“So am I. Sorry that you’re about to get dumped,” she said with a smirk, tossing her blond waves over her shoulder. “Don’t look so surprised. I could smell sex on you the second we met. Do you think Alexander is the kind that keeps girls around for second helpings? Where is he anyway? Or did he already drop you like the rubbish you are?”

My hands clenched at my side, forming fists that I was dying to use even as I fought the urge. “Alexander isn’t the one calling the shots here, and don’t concern yourself with our sex life. We’re both very fulfilled.”

My rage simmered as I neared my boiling point, and I wasn’t sure how long I could contain it. In the last ten minutes, I’d been called a slut, a tart, and now trash.

“All of England is concerned with your sex life,” she said. “Tell me,” she lowered her voice, a wicked gleam in her eyes, “did you give them that story? Did you sell those texts to make a buck or two while you can?”

I didn’t need money or fame or influence. A fact which was obviously lost on her. Pepper might have ties to the Royal Family, but from the way she was pouting over her dress, she didn’t have my trust fund. What would be the point of showing her up? Now I understood Belle’s look earlier. She’d been warning me. Trust Belle to spot a snake in the grass a mile away when I had to step on its tail and get bitten first.

“If you’re done,” I said, shoving past her, “I was leaving.”

“Running away?” she asked in a mocking voice. “Make sure you drop your glass slipper on the way out, but don’t count on Alexander coming to find you.”

I swallowed on that and shot back. “I don’t want him to.”

And I didn’t. This wasn’t a fairytale and Alexander was no Prince Charming. More than ever, I wanted to go home and transform back into simple, loner Clara. I didn’t bother looking for Belle. All I wanted to do was get out of there, but Pepper’s words lodged in my brain. This was the end of my story. There’d be time to cry about it later. For now, I just wanted to escape.

T
he marble columns of the ballroom loomed over me like the bars of a cage, and the crowd of partygoers crushed against me. Panic overtook me, and I struggled toward the entrance. Turning one last time to look for Alexander, I caught Pepper watching me. She raised her drink in farewell, not bothering to hide her smug smile of satisfaction. Ignoring her, my gaze swept the room for Alexander, but he was lost in the crowd, and I didn’t want to search him out. I wanted to get away from here as quickly as possible. I grabbed my clutch from our table, thinking I might catch a cab, but as soon as I was outside, I decided to walk. I needed to clear my head.

The spring air was cool on my skin, which felt feverish and flushed after my confrontation with Pepper. Just the thought of her made my fingers curl tightly over my embellished clutch, so tightly that the beads dug painfully into my flesh. The pain actually felt good after feeling totally numb for the last ten minutes.

What was I thinking? I’d learned to avoid people like that after watching my parents be burned many times by so-called friends. What was the point of friends who tore you down or competed with you? I’d done a fantastic job of being my own worst enemy for long enough. I really didn’t need any help.

This whole night had been a mistake. Not because I felt inferior to Alexander’s family and friends, but because I had no interest in playing into their delusions. Part of me wanted to go back and tell them what I really thought of them, but I resisted the urge. There was no cure for being an asshole.

By the time I got back to the flat, my feet ached from the effort of hiking halfway across London in four-inch Jimmy Choos. Aunt Jane’s flat was dark when I entered, which was just as well, because I didn’t really feel like talking. Rather, I felt like I should talk, a throwback reaction from my therapy days. But I was more than happy not to. Slipping off my heels, I took the stairwell up the three flights to our floor, rummaging through my purse for my keys as I came around the corner.

“Clara.”

I jumped at the sound of his voice, dropping my shoes. But my momentary surprise quickly shifted to white-hot awareness. Taking a deep breath, I cursed my traitorous body for its reaction to Alexander’s presence.

“Where have you been?” Alexander demanded, cornering me against the door as I neared him. His tuxedo jacket was gone and the sleeves of his button-down were rolled up. If Alexander in a tuxedo was impossibly sexy, Alexander half out of a tuxedo was devastating. A pang of longing shot through me, but I resisted the impulse to touch him, knowing what would happen if I did. Anger flickered in his cobalt eyes, and I felt barely controlled rage seething from him like steam from boiling water.

“Walking,” I said, too tired for playing games or being witty.

“You leave without a word and then you
walk
home?” Alexander ran a hand through his black hair, and I noticed that it was already mussed, as though he’d done this a lot this evening.

“You pushed me away,” I whispered, but my words weren’t timid. I wanted him to hear me. I wanted him to stop and listen, so that he would know that I hadn’t run tonight. “I didn’t run. I made the choice to leave.”

“You came with me. I expected you to leave with me. I need to know where you are. That’s not a request, Clara,” he barked.

I stared at him, waiting to see if he even heard what he was saying, but from the smoldering look he gave me, he did. “I’m not a child. I can take care of myself,” I said.

“That was before,” Alexander said, stepping close enough that his heat surged across my skin. “You made a choice, Clara, and when you did that I assumed the responsibility of taking care of you.”

How could he be so dense and infuriating and sexy at the same time? Was it a trick of evolution: the ability to distract a girl with charm while you were being a total asshole? “I didn’t ask you to do that!”

“No, you didn’t. But you
chose
to come into my bed. You
chose
to stand by my side this evening.”

If he thought that was going to be the extent of my choices, he had a big surprise coming. “Yeah, but we’re not married or anything—”

“What message do you think it sends for me to bring a date to my father’s birthday?” he interrupted me.

My breath hitched in my throat, caught on the lump rapidly forming there. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to cry or shake him. Possibly both. “We barely know each other.”

“That might be true,” he conceded, “but we’ve been linked publicly, and after those texts were published today, people are going to make assumptions.”

Between all the drama of Alexander showing up on my first day of work to the shit-storm that was this evening, I’d managed to forget about the hacked text messages. Adding that to the rest of today’s events was too much to bear and I snapped, “What kind of assumptions? I really don’t give a fuck what people who read TMI think of me!”

Alexander’s head tilted, a glimmer of sympathy mixing with his anger. “It won’t just be TMI’s leak for long. There will be more legitimate news sources reporting on it.
I
live in the public eye, Clara.”

The implication was clear. Alexander lived in the public eye, but I didn’t have to. He was offering me a choice: one I thought I’d already made. He was giving me a second chance to walk away. But that didn’t explain his actions tonight. “Why?” I asked in an effort to understand. “Why did you bring me tonight? You knew that assumptions would be made. It’s hardly the first time you’ve been caught with your pants down. Why give them more to gossip about?”

I couldn’t understand why he’d draw more attention to a relationship that was already tabloid fodder. Surely that would only make things worse, and he had to know that.

“Because I want to protect you.” Alexander’s voice broke, and when his eyes met mine, the intensity of his gaze pierced through me, drawing a gasp from my lips. “I need to protect you. I can’t explain it, because I don’t understand it. Maybe it’s a compulsion.”

“Compulsions generally aren’t healthy,” I whispered, barely able to produce words after his confession. The look he gave me—it shattered me. And in the moment, I didn’t care. I didn’t care that we’d been lying to ourselves about what was happening between us. I didn’t care that my heart lay in a thousand pieces at his feet, because I couldn’t bear the thought of him suffering that pain alone.

Alexander stroked the back of his hand down my cheek longingly. “This compulsion is. You can push me away, Clara, and I’ll still devote myself to protecting you.”

Emotions surged through me, flooding through my twisted perception of our relationship and washing it away. I had no words to drown the anguish reflected in his eyes. None that could reach the broken parts of him that I glimpsed. There was only one way to show him how I felt and only one way to free him from his demons. I crashed into him, my lips locking against his with brutal need as we collided. Alexander responded with hunger, lifting me off my feet and slamming against the wall in the process. He pivoted, still kissing me, and pressed me against the brick. Lowering me to my feet, he dropped to his knees and pushed up the flowing skirt of my gown. Alexander held it against my belly, leaving me exposed from the waist down.

“Spread your legs, poppet.” Alexander held me firmly to the wall as he trailed kisses up my bare thighs. He took his time, sliding his lips along the sensitive flesh devotedly. His tongue licked softly down the hollow where my leg and cleft met. My hands tangled in his hair, clutching him to me as his kisses moved inward.

“I’m going to fuck you with my mouth, and I want to hear you come. I want you to let go,” he growled, and I whimpered, already powerless to his demands. Alexander pushed my legs wider and thrust his tongue inside me, fucking me with powerful strokes. As pleasure welled in my core, tightening my limbs in anticipation, he pulled back only to close his mouth over my throbbing clit. Sucking it hungrily, his hand stroked my thigh but went no further. I longed for the feel of him inside me. His hands. His tongue. His cock. I was empty and only he could fill me.

“I…I need you inside me,” I gasped as a tremor of ecstasy rippled through my body.

But Alexander didn’t stop, instead the hand on my stomach pressed me harder to the wall. His tongue stroked across my sensitive clit again and then dipped lower, spearing me once more and pushing me to the brink. I unraveled, moans spilling wantonly from my mouth, as his tongue plunged inside me with relentless passion.

Without a word, Alexander stood and took my clutch. Sagging against the wall, unable to form words, I released it to him, and a moment later, the door to my flat swung open. He scooped me into his arms, carrying me over the threshold as his mouth found mine, kissing me even as I fought to form coherent thoughts. He’d never been inside. Should I point him in the direction of my bedroom or opt for whatever flat surface he found first?

Alexander answered for me, laying me across the kitchen counter.

“You are so fucking beautiful.” The low rasp of his voice sent a shiver over my skin.

And I believed him, feeling his desire for me as acutely as I felt my own. “Wait.”

He stepped back, his gaze skimming my body, his eyes hooded by lust. I pushed up and dropped to my feet, standing with shaky legs before him. My fingers fumbled for the zipper of my gown as he unbuttoned his pants. When I found it, I tugged the zipper down and let the dress fall away. A growl rumbled from Alexander and he advanced on me, lifting my ass from the ground and carrying me to the wall. I wrapped my legs around his waist and rubbed my aching sex against him. With my heels, I pushed his pants down to his ankles. He stepped out of them, kicking them to the side as I rocked against his liberated cock.

“Slowly,” Alexander ordered, gripping my hips as he positioned his chiseled body between them. “
Now
, poppet.”

I lowered onto his cock carefully, feeling the pleasant strain as my body welcomed the substantial girth of his shaft. I bucked against him, impatience winning out over restraint, but his hands clutched my hips in warning.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he cautioned.

My fingers slipped into his hair, knitting through it and tugging slightly. “I thought you liked that,” I whispered.

His eyes flashed to mine, and I saw my face and the offer written across it reflected in his clear blue irises.

“Tread carefully, Clara.” He dropped his forehead against mine, his eyes clenched shut as if he were struggling to control himself. My own breathing became shallow, my resolve resting on the tip of a knife. I wanted Alexander. I wanted all of him, even his dark side. Even if my desire scared me.

Alexander didn’t open his eyes but he pressed a soft kiss to my lips. Pulling back, he pushed farther inside me until I sheathed him to the root. “This is enough.”

His words were strained, but when he looked at me, he smiled. We stayed like that for a long moment, relishing the delicious sensation of joined flesh.

This could be enough
, I thought as he held me.
For now.
But he needed more than this, and he needed me to give in to his darkness.

“Clara,” Alexander whispered, “stop thinking.”

“I—”

He stopped me with a kiss. “Be with me. Feel me.”

Alexander shifted his weight, crushing me against the wall as he began to thrust, and I lost myself to him. My fingernails sank into his shoulders, anchoring me as he drove his cock savagely inside me. A cry escaped my lips as I swelled around him, pleasure taking root and traveling slowly through my body until the dam burst and my orgasm surged violently from my core, spreading to my limbs. “Alexander!”

He came at the cry of his name, pumping his thick cum into me.

I collapsed against him, his cock still twitching as my sensitive walls pulsed around him. Alexander’s arms cradled me against him as he carried me from the kitchen into the hallway. He paused there and I managed a weak, “Right.” He gently laid me on the bed as though I were fragile, then stripped off his tuxedo shirt and climbed in next to me with his undershirt on.

“About the party—” he began.

I held up a hand, unwilling to let talk of this evening’s tension spoil a perfect moment. “Don’t worry about it. We both knew they weren’t going to like me.”

“They shouldn’t have been so rude.” Alexander’s eyes narrowed at the memory.

My mind groped for something positive to takeaway from our disastrous evening. “Edward was nice.”

“Yeah. Edward understands what its like to be an outsider…”

Alexander trailed away as if there were a lot more to this statement, but I didn’t press him for it. Right now, I wanted to focus on the beautiful man in bed with me, not the drama that accompanied being with him. But being with Alexander meant certain sacrifices.

I couldn’t pretend to like or understand his life. He’d hinted at what was expected of him, and my heart hurt for the pain his lack of choices caused him. Whatever had torn his family apart haunted him. I could see its ghost in his eyes. I couldn’t deny that I wished he would share it with me, but I knew pushing him to do so would only drive him away. Maybe the only way for him to find peace was to face his demons.