Capture Me (Royals Saga: Smith and Belle Book 3) (16 page)

“You have a choice,” she reminded me, “and so do I. We can walk away from here. We can leave, go to New York or Paris or Minnesota.”

I crooked an eyebrow, smiling despite myself. “Have you ever been to Minnesota?”

“Focus,” she commanded with a sigh. “You forgot about that bullet. Have you even looked for it?”

I hadn’t, but it hardly proved anything. I’d chosen to believe that Hammond was actually going to pay for his crimes. Now I knew that wasn’t the case. She was right. I hadn’t gone looking for the bullet because I needed nothing more than my own two hands to end his life.

“You changed, Smith, and no matter what he’s done, you deserve more than being pulled back into his world.”

I glanced up, meeting Hammond’s gaze.

“Listen to her. You have a conscience. You have something to live for. Don’t throw that away,” he advised.

“You are the last person I’m interested in hearing from.” He would say anything to survive. After all, it was what he’d always done.

“And I’m the first,” Belle said, gently calling my attention back to her. “At least, I better be.”

“You are,” I assured her, grinning.

“Then stop letting him have a say in our lives,” she pled.

I stroked her pale cheek, torn between the man I wanted to be and the man I needed to be. “I’m not sure what I need or what I want.”

“Me.”

“Cocky,” I accused as I picked the bullet up from the desk and shoved it into my pocket.

“Killing him is choosing him, not me.” Her throat slid as she stood up. She stared down at me wordlessly and then headed toward the office door.

Him or her—that wasn’t even a choice.

The door clicked shut behind her and neither Hammond nor I spoke. After a moment, I got up and walked across the room.

“You’re making the right choice,” Hammond called after me. “You’ll understand that soon.”

But I didn’t care what he thought. The chill of the night air stung as wind whipped across my face. Belle was standing at the end of the street, staring at me. She didn’t move as I strode toward her, increasing my pace until I was running. Catching her in my arms, I swung her around before I lowered her back to the ground.

“You. I choose you,” I told her as the first snow began to fall, coating the world like a soft, wintery baptism.

We’d chosen each other.

W
e spent
the next morning eating toast and jam in bed. After the last few weeks, all I needed was a proper lie-in with my wife, and after last night, I needed the rest. She hadn't told me she was ready to try again, but we’d already begun to practice. If anyone deserved a Christmas miracle, it was us.

Around midday, Belle crawled out of bed and returned fully dressed. “We should do something.”

“I couldn’t agree more, beautiful, but I don’t think we need clothes for what I have in mind.” Tossing off the sheets, I stroked my dick in invitation.

“Outside the house,” she said dryly.

“Sex in public.” I shrugged. “Works for me.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a sex fiend?”

I shot her a crooked smile. “Coming from you, that’s a compliment.”

“Get dressed,” she demanded.

“A month of marriage and you’re already immune to my best panty-dropping grin.” I shook my head as I pushed myself out of bed. “I guess the honeymoon is over.”

“It’s just beginning,” she promised, darting out of the room before I could drag her ass back into bed, “and if you need incentive, I didn’t bother with knickers.”

“That’s not incentive,” I called after her. “That’s meeting expectations.”

Walking into the closet, I stared at the suits hanging neatly on the racks. After a moment, I bypassed them and pulled a pair of jeans out of a drawer. Grabbing a button-down, I threw on the clothes. Later I would strip off her clothes and make her join me in the shower, where I could punish her for making me skip one now. My dick perked up at the thought of lathering up her perfect ass and spanking it until it glowed.

“Where are you taking me?” I asked as I joined her downstairs.

“I have a very dangerous mission for you,” she murmured, nuzzling my jaw. “After-holidays sales.”

I smirked at the idea. “Beautiful, you don’t have to bargain shop.”

“You are recently unemployed,” she reminded me.

“Did I forget to mention that I really don’t need to work another day in my life and I can still support your Louboutin habit?”

“Wrong answer.” She shook her head. “You do have to work, because Bless is going to need legal counsel.”

“I’ll have to take a look at the benefits package before I commit.” I ran a hand over her backside before giving it a quick smack.

“I think you’ll find it’s very…” She shifted, allowing her hands to drop to
my
benefits package. “Competitive.”

I had no doubt I would. “I’d be happy to look over that now.”

I didn’t wait for her to respond before I’d thrown her over my shoulder and headed for the stairs. She didn’t resist, which meant I’d be spanking her ass even earlier than I thought. Apparently Christmas was coming twice this year. But before I’d reached the second step, an insistent rapping on the door stopped me.

“If that is anyone short of Jesus Christ himself…” I grumbled.

Belle wriggled free and scurried over to the door.

Brexton Miles was on the other side. Yesterday he’d played the part of Edward’s friend well. Today there was no question that he was all business. His black wingtips had been recently polished and his black wool coat fell just above his knee. He smiled politely, even as Belle rolled her eyes. Apparently she’d figured out why he had come over the day before.

“I don’t suppose you two have read the paper?” he asked.

“Are you selling subscriptions?” I asked in a flat voice.

“Hammond is dead.”

I’d known it was coming, and I searched for some sort of emotional response: relief, sadness, concern. But there was nothing. I’d given that man more than he deserved for far too long.

“Shot,” Brexton continued. “The press found out somehow. It’s a circus. The gun rights activists will be up in arms, if you’ll pardon me, and the House of Commons will be conducting an inquisition, considering that his charges hadn’t officially been dropped.”

“Thanks for stopping by to let us know.” Belle crossed her arms and glared at him. We both knew that royal security hadn’t started making house calls.

"Can I have a moment?" he asked me.

I tipped my head in agreement. Placing my hand on Belle's shoulder, I leaned in. "I'll be right in.”

“You know, I think I’m going to call Clara and set up a time to see Elizabeth."

I raised an eyebrow. "Are you certain that's a good idea?"

"I'm ready. I'm not going to miss out on my goddaughter's life. It won't change anything."

That was the woman I loved, but I hated to see her going through this. I had mourned the loss of our baby, but I knew I'd never felt it as strongly as she did. I couldn't. I'd barely had time to process the reality before it was stripped from me.

I stepped onto the front stoop and pulled the door shut behind me.

"I'm afraid I have to ask you a very delicate question." He glanced down the quiet street before finally leveling his gaze at me. "Did you kill Hammond?"

"I'm not sure if I should answer that without a lawyer present." I knew I hadn't. Belle did as well, but it was our word against a mountain of evidence until someone figured out who had pulled the trigger. Once they did, I would be the first to shake the killer's hand.

"Honestly," he suggested, "I have no interest in pursuing you, Price. I've seen the files. I know what you did for this investigation. You put yourself in grave danger. Some people might be able to overlook that, but I'm a military man. We live by a code."

"I'm afraid I'm a civilian."

"Don't sell yourself short," he stopped me. "You were willing to join our ranks. You sought out justice. That puts you pretty high on my list."

“I didn’t kill him. I can’t offer you more than my word.” I stuck my hand in my pocket and pulled out the bullet Belle had brought me the night before. “And this. I’ve carried this with me for weeks. I was saving it for him. I had the opportunity last night, Brex. Do you know why I’m carrying this today? Because it represents my choice. Hammond was alive when I saw him last.”

Brexton’s green eyes narrowed, but a moment later he relaxed, shoving his hands in his coat pockets. “That’s good enough for me.”

“Do you have any other suspects?” I had my own list and it only had one name. Many people probably wanted him dead, but only one person I knew was capable of getting that close to him.

“Georgia Kincaid,” he said as if reading my mind. “She's certainly capable of it. I like her for it, but she has an airtight alibi."

"Which I suppose you aren't interested in sharing." No matter how much I fought, I couldn't seem to free myself from the mud.

"I'll leave that up to her to decide." Brexton crossed his bulky arms.

"I'll be honest with you. I'm ready to wash my hands of this. There was a time when this was a nihilistic pursuit. Now I have something..."

"To live for?" he finished for me. His smile was tight as he considered this.

"Yes." To live for and so much more. "And she's waiting for me right now."

"I suppose you don't care who murdered him then?" he asked.

I placed my hand on the doorknob. "I suppose I only care that the bastard is dead."

"Even if this isn't over?"

I wanted him to take back those words, but he could no more
unspeak
them than I could
unhear
them.

"It's over for me." That was all that counted. Whoever had taken the initiative to shuffle Hammond off this mortal coil had nothing to do with me.

“We could use you,” he said. “You have contacts within Hammond’s circle. Whoever did this was making a power play.”

Hammond had insinuated as much, but he’d also given me a parting gift.

No one will touch you now.

Hammond’s words. I could only hope he was right.

“I’ve spent most of my life in his shadow, I’m stepping into the sun.”

“I wish you the best of luck.”

He wasn’t going to press the issue. I’d opened the door before I realized why; turning back to him, I called out, stopping him on the steps. “She’s working for you.”

“I’m sorry?” he said casually.

“Never mind.” Georgia and I were headed on different journeys. Maybe she was finally ready to go legit. Not that I was certain that Alexander or his new private security team were entirely on the up and up, but who was I to question a king?

He nodded, but I had no doubt that he knew exactly what I’d said. “Happy Christmas.”

“You too.”

Belle was leaning against the wall in the entry, chewing on her lip, as I stepped inside.

“It’s over, beautiful.”

“Do they suspect you? I can call Clara. She’ll believe me,” she said in a rush.

“I’m not a suspect.” I didn’t bother to tell her that Brexton’s visit had been a mere formality. I was the obvious choice for a primary suspect. Now that he knew I wasn’t responsible, he’d be forced to look for a bigger fish. It was a witch hunt I wasn’t interested in, particularly because I didn’t know where to start. Hammond had been the top of my food chain. Last night had been the first indication that his business extended much further than I’d suspected. I’d been privy to most of Hammond’s personal and business matters, and I couldn’t think of a single shred of evidence that he was working with someone else. There was nothing I could offer Brexton, and if he had Georgia, he didn’t need me.

“Then it’s over.”

I didn’t bother to remind her that I’d already told her this.

“Yes, beautiful.”

It was over, but our lives were just beginning.

A
t the end
of the week, while the rest of London rushed to the market for last minute champagne and hors d’oeuvres, I was on my way to the office. Lola had summoned me for an emergency business meeting earlier this morning. After fifteen minutes of panic-induced rambling, she finally assured me that she had good news to share. Given that I missed out on most of Bless’s initial beta launch, I wasn’t about to miss being around to celebrate even a small victory.

Lola was at the entrance, wrapped in a grey cashmere coat. As soon as she saw me, she held up a scarf. “No peeking.”

“Seriously?”

“I’m always serious,” she said, tying it around my head, “except for when I’m not.”

“This feels like some sort of corporate team building exercise,” I commented as she guided me inside the studio.

“Do you trust me?” she teased.

“That depends. Is this necessary?” I asked, my hands outstretched in front of me, afraid I’d walk into a rack of designer clothing.

“No,” Lola said, “but it’s pretty fun to watch.”

I could hear the smirk in her voice. Whatever was waiting for me in the office must be pretty amazing if it had her this excited about it.

“Some people take New Year’s Eve off,” I grumbled good-naturedly.

“Those people aren’t workaholics like we are,” she reminded me. “Besides, there is no way you want to miss this. Okay, keep your eyes closed.”

She tugged the scarf off my eyes and I stood there, feeling a bit idiotic. “This better not be a surprise party.”

“It's not your birthday.”

She had a good point. I could hear her flitting about the room, and I tried to zero in on exactly where her feet were falling for clues. Before I could decide if she was on my left or behind me, her movement ceased entirely.

“Ready?” she called.

“And more than willing.”

“Open your eyes before you get any saucier.”

It took me a few seconds of looking about before I zeroed in on where she was standing. The whiteboard where she’d started to count new subscribers read 999. I didn’t even have time to start crying before she wiped off that number. Lola wrote 1000 with precise, teasing strokes, then stood back to admire her handiwork.

Within our second month of business, we’d already signed up a thousand clients. Things were moving more quickly than I ever could have imagined, and I knew I had Lola to thank.

“You did this.” My hand fluttered to my mouth as I stared in shock.

“We did this. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you,” she corrected me.

I studied my business partner. She was already dressed for this evening’s party in a stunning red gown with a crepe skirt that flowed to the ground. Its lacy top was nearly see-through, covering her breasts while revealing plenty of décolletage. Her dark hair was nearly black against the bright color and her creamy skin. “I take it you’re going this evening.”

“I am,” she said with a sigh. “I can’t wait to spend another holiday with all my coupled friends.”

I dropped an arm around her shoulder and hugged her to me. “There has to be a few single ones in the lot.”

“There are,” she confirmed, “and they’re wankers. I had to shag an unfortunate number of them to discover that.”

“Go to Paris,” I said suddenly.

“Right now?” she asked with a laugh.

“For the interview. Meet someone new. Have an affair.” I winked at her. I loved London, but I understood how trapped a girl could feel in this city.

“You’re the face of Bless, and we need you to start relationships with some of the major brands headquartered there.”

“I already told you that I want you to take that job on.” I hesitated for a moment before deciding to give her the real reason. “We do need to build relationships in Paris. I don’t see how we can be in the industry without having contacts there, but Smith and I are going to start a family.”

“Oh my God!” Lola’s eyes flashed to my stomach as she reached for it. “Are you…?”

“No.” I swallowed.
Choose faith
.

“You will be in no time. I swear Smith could knock a woman up just looking at her.” She threw her hands up in surrender. “No offense. I’m just looking.”

“None taken,” I said dryly. I was well aware of Smith’s effect on women. I’d fallen victim to it, after all. I could only hope she was right about the rest. “Anyway, since there’s a good chance that I’ll have cankles in a few months, I’m going to ask you to reconsider taking on Bless. Don’t make me beg.”

“You’ve talked me into it.”

We both dissolved into squeals and giggles. If this was what hope felt like, I could get used to it.

“Speaking of tonight’s party.” Lola’s mouth curved into a mischievous grin. “Jenny Packham sent you a Christmas present, and I bet you’ll look fabulous in it.”

“Couture Christmas presents? I should have started this business years ago.” I snatched the box out of her hands. “Maybe we should share.”

Lola turned around, her gown swishing elegantly as she spun. “I already got mine.”

If that was what she'd received, I couldn’t wait to open mine. I considered begging out of tonight’s affair. Part of me wanted to hide away at home with Smith and enjoy being able to relax for the first time in a long while. But a girl couldn’t resist a night out if there was a new dress involved. Removing the lid, I gasped as I caught sight of the silk charmeuse gown inside. As I carefully lifted, the fabric caught the light, revealing a subtle champagne sheen. Delicately hand-beaded crystals shimmered at the shoulders.

“Wow!” Lola was at my side, studying it instantly. “That’s gorgeous. A little bridal actually. Perfect for a newlywed.”

I held it up to me, admiring how the neckline dipped, meeting with the elegant twist at the waistline. This was the dress I should have worn for Smith on our wedding day. Tonight I would wear it to ring in the New Year at Clarence House as a symbol of starting over.

F
or once I
had no problems with the security gate at Clarence House, but it was probably easier today given that the guard had a guest list. As I pulled into the private drive, I reconsidered. Guards milled along the perimeter of the house. Apparently Alexander didn’t trust the fence to keep unwelcome visitors out anymore. Given what he had been through, I couldn’t blame him. I could only hope that now that Hammond was gone, he’d be able to loosen up.

That was probably wishful thinking on my part. My best friend had married one of the most powerful men in the world, so things were never going to return to normal. There would always be security and gates. My own happily ever after hadn’t come at the cost of my personal freedom. But through everything that had happened since I met Smith, I’d been seriously neglecting Clara. Of course, having to pass a security check made it a lot more difficult to pop by for a glass of wine. That was just an excuse, though, and I knew it. I’d been so absorbed with Smith that I’d put her on the back burner. She’d done the same when she met Alexander, but I had been there on the day of her wedding. I’d held her hand during her first sonogram. I’d sat with her while Alexander buried his father.

Maybe it was the sheer amount of tragedy and pain she’d experienced in the last year that had made me hesitant to bring my own troubles to her doorstep. Yes, I had been trying to protect her, but I couldn’t deny that I’d also been avoiding her, especially since we’d returned from Stuart Hall.

I discovered Clara in her room. Her hair hung around her shoulders and she was rocking Elizabeth frantically. Judging by her tiny, mewling cries, Elizabeth was having none of it.

“I haven’t even had a shower yet.” She was on the verge of tears, and I leapt into action, gently taking Elizabeth from her arms.

I stood, rocking the baby, until she quieted again. It wasn’t much help, but it effectively warded off tears from both parties.

“You’re good with her,” she said softly.

I swallowed, searching for the strength I’d found this afternoon. How could I love a child this much and still hurt so badly?

“Not as good as you are,” I said after a few moments of silence.

Clara dismissed the compliment with a wave of her hand. “I’m her mother. That’s hardly magic.”

I bit down on my lip. It felt like magic—wondrous and just out of reach of reality.

“Alexander won’t budge on getting a nanny?” I needed to change the subject from motherhood. Unfortunately at the moment, the topic seemed to bleed into every possible new discussion we might start.

She shook her head. “Honestly, I’m not ready either. My mother has watched her for a while, but you know how giving Madeline is with her time.”

Madeline was light years ahead of my own mother, but she wasn’t exactly maternal either. It was something Clara and I had bonded over early on in our relationship.

“Lola’s been busy,” she said absentmindedly, “and of course, there’s Edward, but I think he’s in denial over David’s desire to have kids. The coronation is in a few weeks, and I think I’m going to be pushing a pram in the church.”

My eyes narrowed. I hadn’t been around to help. My absence had been the reason Lola wasn’t available, and there was no way I would have let Edward get away with running scared. “I’m sorry. It’s my fault you haven’t had more help.”

“How is it your fault?” Clara laughed at me.

“Your sister has been busy helping me, and I wasn’t around to kick Edward in the arse.”
And I wasn’t here at all.

I should have been the one here with her. I always had been.

“You’ve had enough going on,” Clara said, but her eyes darted around me, avoiding mine.

“And?” I pressed. There was more. I couldn’t mend things with her if I didn’t know badly I’d broken our relationship.

“You don’t seem very interested.”

I shrank back, freezing on the spot. Elizabeth released a shriek of protest that we’d stopped moving, but I could only shake my head.

“I love her,” I whispered.

“I see it in your face when you hold her.” Clara sighed. I understood her hesitation. Considering how rocky our last few encounters had been, was she really going to risk making things worse?

“It’s not that.”

I’d found the courage to tell Lola that I wanted to have a baby earlier. It had been the first time I’d admitted it to myself, but I wasn’t certain I had the strength to talk about the miscarriage. It was still so raw that I was scared I’d reopen the wound by even thinking about it. I’d been surviving it by ignoring it.

“Whatever it is,” Clara said, “I’m here for you.”

The implication was clear. I’d stood by her through the volatile changes in her life. Why wouldn’t I assume she would be there too?

But it wasn’t that simple. It wasn’t that I wanted to keep it from her. I simply didn’t want to relive it.

I forced a smile. “Everything’s fine.”

“Bollocks,” she accused.

I raised an eyebrow. “Someone’s ready to be queen.”

“Don’t start,” she warned me, leaving little doubt in my mind that I was right. “Something’s up. I know you, Belle Stuart. I mean, Belle Price. Gah, I can’t get used to that.”

“You really want to know?” I walked to the bed and sat down on the edge next to her, still cradling Elizabeth in my arms.

“I really do. I know some of what happened to you, and I hate that I couldn’t be there for you,” she said apologetically. “But I know there’s more. Edward does, too, and we’re both too afraid to ask you.”

She didn’t seem to be having trouble now.

Clara moved closer to me, reaching to relieve me of the baby, but I turned away. If I was going to face this, I would face all of it.

“I had a miscarriage.” To my surprise, it hurt a little less to say it aloud this time. I’d expected pain, and it was there. But instead of the clawing, destructive pain I’d expected, this ache was duller.

She didn’t say anything. Instead she wrapped her arms around me silently. We sat that way for a long time. Elizabeth sleeping peacefully in my arms and her mother holding me. The circle of life—mother and daughter—had surrounded me, and after a few minutes the pain faded, as if the broken pieces of my heart had begun to fuse once more.

“I don’t know what to say,” she finally admitted.

“I think that’s okay.” My throat was raw but I refused to cry.

“It’s better than saying something terrible,” she pointed out.

Despite myself, I laughed. She joined me, but our amusement evaporated as swiftly as it had arrived.

“I want to ask you a million questions.”

I looked at her and nodded. “And I think I want to answer them.”

Clara’s hand dropped to mine and she squeezed it. “You don’t have to carry burdens alone.”

She was right. I didn’t. My grief had isolated me, and I’d chosen to believe that it was my responsibility to bear it. Telling Clara had lightened that weight. I didn’t have to face this alone. Just knowing that proved I was going to survive this.

“Were you trying?” she asked.

“I think Smith has super sperm,” I admitted. “That and I missed some pills what with the death threat and attempted murder.”

“That’s understandable.” She paused. “I wish you would have told me.”

“It’s just…you went through the same thing, but your story had a completely different ending,” I whispered.

“Your story isn’t over,” she reminded me.

And then it was all coming out. Every fear I’d had since I met Smith. All the ugliness and all the beauty. I recounted our impromptu wedding in detail, down to the fact that I’d been wearing my pajamas.

“I haven’t told anyone that.”

“It just shows how fashion forward you are,” she teased.

A rap at the door startled us from conversation. Alexander poked his head in, smiling widely when his blue eyes fell on his wife.

“You want me to take her so you can get showered?” he asked.

Clara opened her mouth, but I jumped in. “I got her. It looks like you could use one, too.”

“Thanks, Belle.”

“In fact, how about I come by a bit more often?” I suggested. “I need to spend more time with my goddaughter.”

Clara and Alexander glanced at each other.