Royals Saga 3 Crown Me (2 page)

But I wasn’t. Not if…

“How long?” My words were hollow. I wouldn’t allow myself to feel the fear building in my belly, which meant I couldn’t allow myself to feel anything at all.

“There’s no danger. Not with Norris and the team—”

I held up a hand to stop him and repeated myself, “How long?”

“Since Switzerland,” he said in an unusually quiet voice.

“Switzerland?” I squeaked. We’d been there months ago, before Pepper had gone to the press with accusations that Alexander had drugged her and before he’d changed the course of my life with a simple question. “You’ve known this whole time? You knew when you proposed!”

“I did,” he confirmed.

I pushed him away, suddenly needing space to catch my breath. The hallway spun and I fought to regain control over the emotions warring inside me. Fear tore down the barriers I’d erected, liberating itself with a surge of panic that flooded through me. I couldn’t ignore it anymore.

“I didn’t want you to be scared. If you had known, it wouldn’t have changed anything.”

“Like hell it wouldn’t have!” But it was a lie. Knowing Daniel was back on the streets wouldn’t have made me feel safer. In this instance, knowledge wasn’t power. The last thing I felt in this moment was empowered. That didn’t change the fact that I knew now. “How?”

“An overzealous attorney.” Alexander’s lips twisted into a rueful smile. “By the time I was informed, he was long gone.”

“Gone?” I repeated. Disbelief added itself to the chaotic mix of feelings churning in the pit of my stomach. How could he be gone? Even if he’d been released temporarily, I hadn’t dropped the charges against him.

“For someone with no military background, he knows how to hide.”

This time when Alexander reached for me, I let him wrap his arms around me. I melted into the safety of his embrace, willing myself to believe he could protect me. But if Norris couldn’t find Daniel—if all the men Alexander employed behind my back hadn’t even seen him leave that rose—what hope was there? The thought chilled my blood and settled deep in my bones.

I pulled away from him and reached for the door. “I need to go.”

“Clara, if I—”

“I don’t want to hear it,” I stopped him. I’d spent the last few months believing Alexander was too overprotective—because I’d thought the source of his paranoia was behind bars.“I don’t know what’s worse—that Daniel was released or finding out you’ve been hiding it from me. You lied to me. I need to think.”

“Clara.” His voice was sharp, but I ignored him.

“I thought we were past this shit. Later, X.” I left before he could offer me more excuses. He’d been protecting me, I knew that, but it didn’t make it any easier to swallow the betrayal or the fact that my fragile happiness had been shattered. Right now all I wanted was space to consider what I’d just learned:

No one could protect me.

A
familiar redhead popped into view at the entrance to my cubicle. Tori shot me a tired grin and I waved her inside. Plopping into my spare chair, she rubbed the small bump that was just making its presence known and sighed heavily. The weight of it mirrored my own current frustration. Apparently Monday wasn’t going smoothly for anyone. I could only hope that whatever was on her mind had nothing to do with crazy stalkers or possessive boyfriends. Of course, she was dating one of the kindest men I knew, so it probably didn’t.

“That bad?” I asked sympathetically. Leaning back in my chair, I folded my arms and waited patiently. I couldn’t help but notice that she looked absolutely exhausted. Tori’s fair skin was pale against the dark circles ringing her eyes and the red hair she usually wore in glamorous waves or funky up-dos sagged into a limp ponytail.

“I’m behind with the PostAid campaign. I thought I’d get caught up this weekend, but I’m so tired. Things were supposed to get easier in the second trimester.”

“You should talk to your boss,” I said dryly. I added a wink for good measure.

“I think he’s more tired than I am. The twins had the flu. Apparently, we’re all falling apart.” Her gaze traveled down. “I swear my poor back is already a mess. I can’t believe I have five more months to go! I looked into getting one of those chairs. But I saw the price tag and it’s going to have to be a knockoff for me.”

“My workaholic father’s idea of a Christmas present. I have to admit it’s pretty nice though,” I said, tapping my fingers on the arms of my new Aeron Chair. I didn’t mention that the extravagant gift was yet another attempt to smooth things over with me. The gesture was ridiculous, given that I had been neither avoiding nor punishing my dad after catching him with another woman. My mother and sister had received similarly lavish presents. But we all knew that no gift was going to erase what he had done. “You know, I don’t really need this anymore.”

I stood and pushed the chair to her. At least something good could come of my father’s emotional bribery.

“Really?” Her eyes lit up, but then her face immediately fell, tears sparkling in her eyes. “I keep forgetting this is your last week.”

“I keep forgetting that everything makes you cry right now,” I teased. “Look on the bright side, you get my chair.”

She managed a tight smile. “This is making me feel even worse. The doctor called and I need to pop over to the clinic. Can we reschedule lunch?”

“Absolutely.” I hoped my response didn’t seem too forced. I was more than a little sad to miss out on one of my last lunch dates with her, even though I was thrilled about the baby.

It was going to be hard to maintain my professionalism when I packed up my desk. I’d see Bennett and Tori again—they were on my personal guest list for the wedding and the engagement party. Sadly, Tori was going to have to sit out of the raucous hen party Belle had planned. And of course, I was dying to hold the baby in a few months. They’d be around, but it wouldn’t be the same. I’d become attached to them as a couple, even though I suspected part of that stemmed from being more than a little jealous of how normal their relationship seemed. Date nights. Movies at home. No paparazzi tailing them or tabloid speculation. Gathering my notebook and a pencil, I braced myself and headed to my boss’s office, knowing our morning strategy sessions were numbered. I paused at the door as Bennett finished a phone call, but he beckoned for me to come in.

“Understood.” Bennett swiveled to face his office window. His view was blocked by the reflective glass of the neighboring Gherkin building, but he stared, unblinking, into the glaring sunlight bouncing back at him.

My heart churned, full of conflicting emotions, but I managed to keep it together. My mother had helpfully passed along a magazine article that talked about the top twenty-five stressful life events last week. I stopped counting the number that currently applied to me when I hit ten. No doubt the actual number was much higher. All the tension and change had made me nearly as weepy as Tori, but I refused to cry when Bennett spun around and asked me how my day was. I wouldn’t cry. Not until my final day in the office, at least.

Instead I launched into the strategies I’d managed to write up over the weekend. The only perk of Alexander’s increasing familial responsibilities was that I had a bit more time to devote to projects outside of work. An hour later, I’d managed to get Bennett’s half-hearted approval on everything I’d pitched to him.

“What am I going to do without you?” he asked when I’d finished rattling off the latest specs for a public health campaign we were putting together with the BBC.

I wagged a finger at him. “Don’t start!”

“You don’t really want to marry that guy, do you?” Bennett said.

“Speaking of marriage,” I said pointedly, “when are you making an honest woman out of Tori?”

“Hey, I’ve asked.” He threw up his hands defensively, laugh lines crinkling around his warm brown eyes. “She said the first night she gets a full eight hours of sleep, she’s dragging me to the nearest church.”

“In my defense,” Tori interrupted from the doorway, “I look like a zombie. All I want is one decent, quick photo of my wedding day where I don’t look like I’m ready to eat someone’s brains.”

I laughed along with them, excusing myself so that I could get back to work. The number of projects I needed to wrap up before I left was staggering. An hour later, I’d sorted through the files I’d kept at my desk and dropped them off to the project managers that would be taking over the various campaigns. I’d just seen the last stack safely delivered when my mobile rang. Lola’s face blinked on the screen, and I dashed back to the safety of my cubicle before accepting the call. Enough of my day-to-day life was aired across tabloid covers, the last thing I wanted was for my parents’ marital difficulties to be thrown into the mix. It was silly that anyone cared about what I bought at Tesco when I grabbed groceries, but it was unthinkable to invite people to speculate on the affairs of my family.

“Hey Lola,” I greeted her breathlessly.

“Were you running?” she asked. The hint of confusion coloring her tone quickly shifted to annoyance. “And why are you whispering?”

“I’m at work,” I reminded her, keeping my voice soft. I loved my kid sister, but her unapologetic bluntness meant she wasn’t always terribly perceptive.

“I thought you worked in an office, not a library.”

I shook my head, marveling at the strange mix of British and American that comprised my sister. She’d been young enough when we’d moved to the U.K. that she’d picked up a subtle accent, but her forwardness was all-American. I, on the other hand, spoke like an American and chose my words carefully like a Brit—most of the time.

“I figured it would be nice to keep a little of my personal life private.” My eyes rolled involuntarily, glad that she couldn’t see me through the phone. “I’d like to keep our family issues out of the tabloids.”

I had no reason to suspect anyone at Peters & Clarkwell had sold me out, but the paparazzi’s interest in me had grown into a frenzy since my engagement to Alexander. The press had run stories on everything from analyzing my apparent preference for free-range eggs to interviews with people who’d attended classes with me at university.

“Mom loves being in tabloids,” Lola said.

Normally I’d say she had a point, but my mother’s stubborn refusal to admit Dad was cheating suggested this was a line in the sand. A juicy story like my father’s affair would be worth a pretty penny—and it might destroy my mother. Of course, Lola didn’t admit that she was enjoying the cover time she’d been receiving herself. Our shared genetics meant that she looked like a younger, slimmer version of me—that dressed better. Much better. As such, she’d quickly become a fashion trendsetter, even starting a craze for American handbag designer Kate Spade across the pond. The gossip rags had begun a Lola watch, breaking down her wardrobe choices and linking her to a dozen of the world’s most eligible bachelors. As far as I was concerned, it was too much, but I’d rather she distract them from what was happening behind closed doors. Plus, Lola didn’t seem to mind.

“Regardless,” she continued, “she’s asked me to go dress and hat shopping for a certain blessed event. Please tell me your last day at that job is coming up. She’s insisting we go together.”

“No date yet. Soon,” I lied. “Take her to buy a hat for the engagement party. That’s next weekend.”

“She’s had that hat picked out for months,” Lola said emphatically. “Word to the wise, she’s going to ask you at our family meeting next week.”

“Of course, she is.” I sighed and checked the clock. “I better run.”

“You probably should run if you keep Mom waiting any longer,” Lola warned and quickly hung up.

I pushed thoughts of dates and hat shopping into the back of my mind. Yet another reason I would miss my job was that it provided distraction from the topic of my wedding. With everything so complicated at the moment, the last thing I needed to add to my plate was more wedding preparation. Not while Alexander was still keeping secrets from me. Not while his father refused to give his blessing. And certainly not with Daniel out there. A thick lump formed in my throat, and I swallowed against the sudden swell of fear. Right now burying myself in my work meant not having to face that fact. A few spreadsheets and a PowerPoint later, I was surprised to glance up and realize it was nearly my lunch hour. My stomach growled, accustomed to the carefully timed schedule I kept regarding meals. But I had no appetite. Without Tori around to distract me from the security detail that would follow me as soon as I left the office, I didn’t feel like grabbing lunch. My phone buzzed insistently, and I grabbed it to silence my reminder-to-eat alarm, surprised to discover it was actually a call from Edward.

“Clara Bishop’s desk,” I said with mock formality.

“Is the tart in?” Edward asked in a voice dripping with British dryness.

My mouth twisted bemusedly at his saucy pet name as I typed out a final note and closed my file. Edward, Alexander’s younger brother, was the only living member of the Royal family I could stand. “I’m afraid she’s busy.”

“Too bad. I was calling to inform her that her presence is demanded at a mandatory girls’ night this weekend.”

I couldn’t stop myself from snorting at this. Since he’d officially come out of the closet, he’d fully embraced his sexuality. It only made me love him more. “Girls’ night, huh?”

“Don’t bother telling me I don’t have the necessary equipment, I have the necessary attitude,” he said, adding, “and the emergency to boot.”

“Please tell me there’s not trouble in paradise for you, too.”

“Absolutely not. I’ve been reformed,” he assured me cheekily. “I just want some time with my two favorite brides-to-be. Belle’s already in, and if Alexander cannot bear to be parted from you or your vagina for the evening, we can do it at your place.”

“You’re shameless.”

“You love me.”

I couldn’t disagree with him there. “I’ll have to…”

The words fell off my tongue as Alexander seized the chair next to mine. He lounged back, smirking wickedly, as I struggled to regain my composure.

“Sorry…I’m distracted. I’ll have to call you back,” I finally managed.

“Tell him I said hello,” Edward said knowingly.

I took a steadying breath as I hung up and shoved the phone into my purse.

“What? You couldn’t just send a note?” I bit out, allowing the turmoil I’d felt all morning to spill over.

“We need to talk.” His voice was low, but firm. Domineering. Powerful. A dizzying sensation washed over me as I fought against the effect he had on me.

I knew that domineering tone. I was being commanded, and while I couldn’t deny I’d come to crave that in his bed, I wasn’t about to put up with it now. “Now you want to talk? Did something happen that you couldn’t coordinate behind my back?”

“Poppet.”

“I need to get to lunch.”

And I needed to avoid a screaming match in the office.

“That’s why I’m here.” Alexander moved closer, brushing a finger along my arm. My reaction was instantaneous. A ripple of longing shivered from the point of contact and up my neck. My body curved, lured toward him with the same instinctual magnetism that had drawn us together since the moment we’d first met.

But I refused to roll over that easily. “I had a lunch date, remember?”

“And it was cancelled,” he said, shrugging his broad shoulders in a far too innocent gesture.

“Un-fucking-believable.” Snatching my purse up, I beelined for the lift, but before I could reach it, he was at my side. His arm slipped through mine, claiming me, as we waited for the lift.

“Do you have this whole place bugged?” I hissed, unable to contain myself and hoping none of my co-workers would hear.

Alexander was more patient, exhibiting an almost supernatural control that drove me crazy. When the lift doors slid open, he released his hold and gestured for me to enter. My simmering annoyance had reached full-blown fuming as he calmly pressed the down button. “I am made aware if your schedule changes.”