For King and Country (11 page)

“Am I allowed to sleep with other women?” I asked.

“No, but that’s an interesting idea.”

“Okay, down boy.” I rolled my eyes. “I’m just trying to prove that you’re being irrational.”

“It’s not irrational,” he said, grabbing the tie of my robe and yanking it so that it fell open. His gaze burned into me, and my nerves crackled, smoldering with desire. He wasn’t going to fight fair. “I have many things I plan to do to this body. I want to take my time with it. I need to, so I’m not interested in playing games. If you want to be with me, I expect loyalty.”

He stepped closer and slipped a hand between my legs. I choked back a whimper of pleasure at his touch and forced myself to keep eye contact with him.

“I have no issue with exclusivity, but you don’t do relationships,” I reminded him.

“I don’t court. I’m not looking for romance or marriage. I want to fuck you, Clara. I want to make you come, and I want your perfect cunt to be mine exclusively.” He’d begun to probe my seam with his long, powerful fingers. It was enough to make me dizzy, but I fought to maintain control. Reaching out, I gripped his cock through his shorts. It was rock hard and so very thick, and I fought the urge to drop to my knees in front of him. “This is mine then.”

Alexander’s lips twitched and I felt his cock pulse in my hands. He pressed against me, thrusting his cock fully into my grasp. “It’s all yours, Clara.”

His lips found mine then, kissing me until I no longer cared about what I’d really wanted to know: how long? How long was he mine?

It didn’t matter. A week with him was more than I could ever ask for, and as his fingers slipped inside me, fucking me toward another earth-shattering climax, I pushed the question completely out of my mind.

I
was on my stomach, buck naked and fantasizing about Alexander’s hands kneading much more intimate parts of my body, when a text alert buzzed on my phone, which sat on a chair in the corner. My masseuse, Tyrone, clicked his tongue disapprovingly over the interruption.

“You’re all tense now, girl,” Tyrone chastised me. “Relax.”

I tried to, but after last weekend, there was only one man my body obeyed. I focused on the new age music drifting through the room and slipped back to my fantasies. When I pried my deliciously limp body from the table at the end of the session, I grabbed my phone, surprised to see the text I’d received was from Alexander.

There’s a window in this room that would benefit from having your naked body spread across it.

I fumbled as I typed a response, half dizzy from my near comatose state. The fact that I could hear the sexy rasp of Alexander’s voice in my head reading the message didn’t help.

After I was dressed, I stepped into the hall to discover my mother waiting for me. She looped her arm through mine and sighed. “Wasn’t that wonderful? I didn’t even know I was so tense.”

“Me either,” I said.

“Are you ready to shop?” she asked.

I nodded, stifling the urge to groan. I was going to need another massage after spending the day shopping under my mother’s critical eye. Pocketing my phone, I smiled at her. “Lead the way.”

A few hours and a small fortune later, we stopped to meet my sister for lunch. The afternoon crowd at Hillgrove’s consisted mostly of ladies who lunch, like my mother, and a few tourists who were busy snapping pictures of their high tea sandwich assortment. My mother gave them a distasteful look, adjusting the brim of her Stephen Jones hat while we waited for my younger sister to join us. Our shopping bags were piled on an empty seat and Mom had taken the liberty of ordering already. Just as she had taken the liberty of choosing a dozen new dresses for me. I’d managed to convince her to let me pay, and I’d even gone so far as to buy a few pairs of heels. Although I wasn’t likely to get much use wearing them around the office of Peters & Clarkwell, but since my social life had taken a surprising upturn last Friday, I knew I’d have plenty of opportunities to wear them.

I hadn’t even fought her when she thrust a selection of short, sexy dresses at me in Yves St. Laurent.

“I’m so glad you picked up some new things,” she said, sipping a martini. Most of the women here were drinking out of teacups, but Mom was on her first cocktail. It was the little things that showed she was American still, whether she liked it or not.

“I want to make a good impression at my new job.” I shrugged as if this was perfectly obvious. I didn’t tell her that at least half of the things I’d purchased I planned to wear for Alexander. I kept this to myself not only because I wasn’t ready to tell her I was seeing him, but also because I wasn’t sure how long the relationship would last. Alexander and I had struck a tenuous agreement—one I wasn’t entirely comfortable with—and I didn’t think my mom would understand that I was screwing him with no commitment on his part. Exclusivity meant nothing to her if it wasn’t coupled with a diamond on the finger.

“And you’ll look fabulous on dates,” she said.

“Sorry I’m late!” My sister Charlotte said, arriving in time to save me from Mom’s curiosity regarding my love life. She flashed us a winning smile as she dropped her purse on the floor and took a seat.

Dressed in a sleeveless cream-colored shell that hung loosely over black leggings, Charlotte looked as if she’d stepped from the pages of a fashion magazine. The ensemble might have been plain on someone without her eye for style, but she’d paired it with a chic, yellow scarf and gold studs. She pushed her large, movie star sunglasses up to hold back the dark hair that waved over her shoulders.

“How was your meeting, Lola?” our mother asked, calling her by her pet name.

“Fine. Over.” Lola shot me a conspiratorial wink, and I did my best not to groan. I’d had no doubt that her sudden scheduling conflict had more to do with sleeping off a late night than the cushy summer internship she’d landed at a marketing firm in Chelsea.

“We’re just glad you’re here now.” Mom patted her arm.

“What did I miss?” Lola asked.

“I was telling Mom about my new job.”

Lola blinked, the smile still plastered on her face. “Oh.”

My mother didn’t seem to notice Lola’s obvious lack of interest. She smiled broadly as the waiter brought a selection of tea sandwiches to us on a tall tray. Picking one up, she bit into it delicately. “But I was really curious about whether Clara is seeing anyone.”

There was a slight break in her voice, which gave away her true feelings. I had to give her credit, she’d managed to avoid bringing up the recent scandal I’d been involved in the whole morning. That had to be some kind of record. But with Lola here, I’d expected the subject to come up sooner rather than later. I considered her question, taking a large bite of a cucumber sandwich to buy me some time. If I continued to see Alexander, it was very likely I’d find myself on the cover of another gossip rag. But Alexander was being discreet about our relationship, and there was no reason to suspect anyone might find out if we continued our cloak and dagger routine. Plus, we had Norris. Alexander had made it clear that our relationship wasn’t going further than dating and sex. If there was no future, why should I tell her? I ignored the flutter of anxiety that thought produced in my stomach.

“No,” I lied. “Although Belle has her sights on every single man she knows.”

“Annabelle is a good friend,” Mom said. “You’re so lucky to have her.”

Actually, I was lucky to have her around, even if my mother didn’t know the real reason. Belle was such a good friend because it meant I didn’t have to hide my true relationship to her. She wasn’t going to tell anyone, but it also meant I didn’t have to put up with her blind dates.

“I saw in the papers that you were seen with Alexander again.” Lola fluttered her lashes innocently as she abandoned her sandwich in favor of her newly-arrived martini.

I swallowed hard and took a long drink of water. Of course, she would have seen the photos from Friday night outside of Brimstone. “I agreed to meet him. That’s all.”

“That’s all?” My mother laughed, shaking her head. “My daughter met the Prince of England, but no big deal.”

“He’s just a man,” I said, hoping she couldn’t see through my lie.

“He’s far from just a man,” Lola opined. “He’s the most eligible bachelor in the world.”

The vibration of an incoming text betrayed me, and my mother’s eyes flickered to my mobile. Obviously she’d been aware of the number of text messages I had received today. I grabbed it and dropped it in my purse.

“That man is going to rule this country some day,” Mom said in a soft voice.

“Mom, we’re really more of a democracy,” I reminded her. “Maybe I should set my sights on Parliament and sleep my way through them.”

Lola choked on her martini, but Mom’s eyes narrowed to slits. “Don’t be filthy, Clara. Is it wrong that I want to know details? You don’t tell me anything about your life. I only read about it in the papers.”

“There’s nothing to tell. He asked me to meet so he could apologize.” At least I wasn’t lying about that part. They didn’t need to know I’d spent Saturday in his bed. Memories clouded my head for a moment and I was brought back to the present by the vibration of another text message. I snatched my phone out of my purse and read it.

I need to have my mouth on you. I need to make you come.

My thighs clenched together at the thought and I had to shake my head a little to clear my thoughts.
Now’s not the time for this
, I reminded myself. Mom was already suspicious, and when I looked up, her eyebrow was raised.

“Who’s been texting you today?” she asked.

I turned to my sister, hoping for some distraction, but Lola was glued to her own mobile. I obviously couldn’t count on her to come to my aid.

“Belle. She’s having a fight with Philip.” I hated lying. Now I’d gone and sullied my best friend’s relationship, but if anyone wouldn’t mind, it would be Belle.

“I hope it’s nothing serious.” Mom sipped her martini, her eyes still on me. I didn’t think I imagined the double meaning to her words. She didn’t believe me. She knew something was going on with Alexander, but how far would she press the issue? I needed our relationship to be secret for a while, even from her. At least until I’d figured out what our relationship was exactly. Without that, I wasn’t certain I was strong enough to continue seeing him.

“It’s not,” I reassured her.

“Good.” She gestured to our server for another drink. “Because I’d hate to see you get hurt.”

“I’ll be fine,” I said with a sigh, somewhat relieved that we weren’t skirting the issue any longer.

“I want you to be taken care of, Clara, but a man like Alexander...you’re too fragile for him.”

I gripped my fork and stared past her. She meant well, she always did, but that didn’t mean that I wasn’t tired of hearing how breakable I was. “I’m not a child anymore.”

“I didn’t say you were. But Clara, you’re fiercely independent,” she said gently, “so much so that you don’t always see what the rest of us see.”

“You mean Daniel?”

“Daniel, and other things.”

I couldn’t hold back a sigh. “I’m healthy, Mom. That was a long time ago.”

“Clara, darling.” She stretched her hand across the table and took mine. “I want you to stay healthy. You’re an adult now. Just be sure that your decisions are made with your head and not your...heart.”

I hated to think she might be right. Hadn’t my head been warning me away from Alexander all along? I’d let myself be led around by my body, and somehow now my heart had gotten mixed up in this mess too. But the last person I could talk about this with was my mother. Alexander made me feel alive. In university, I’d been focused on my studies or Daniel. I’d learned to push down my emotions and lock them away so that I could make it through the day. And I’d hated it. Graduation had been about more than a degree. It has been about liberation, and the arrival of Alexander into my world had reawakened me to life, even if it had been primarily on the physical level.

My father had been protecting my mother from feeling too much for years. She couldn’t possibly understand.

“Excuse me, I need the loo.” I stood, surreptitiously pocketing my phone.

“I’ll go with you,” Lola said.

“I guess I’ll stay here with the sandwiches,” Mom snapped, obviously aware that I was avoiding this topic.

“I’m sure the gin will keep you company,” I said sweetly.

Lola followed me to the bathroom, chattering away about her weekend and her hangover and some boy she’d brought home. The basics filtered in but my thoughts were elsewhere.

As soon as we were in the bathroom, I found a stall. Shutting the door behind me, I checked my messages.

I need to hear you crying my name as I fuck you.

Yes, please.
I heard the words spoken with his deep voice as I read them, tinged with a rasp that betrayed his physical yearning. It had barely been forty-eight hours since the last time I’d been with him, but I ached with desire reading his message.

I shot back a response.

But how can I scream your name with my mouth busy sucking you off?

A trio of responses arrived lightning-fast.

You won’t know until you’ve tried.

Christ, I’m so fucking hard for you.

Finish eating and get your pretty ass over to me.

When I emerged from the stall, Lola was leaning against the bathroom counter. “So who’s really texting you?”

“Belle,” I said, deciding it was best to stick with my lie, especially since Lola held the world record when it came to gossip. She continued to watch me as I washed my hands and checked my makeup.

“You’re glowing,” she accused.

I bit back a grin and shrugged.

“Who screwed that smile onto your face?” she pushed. “C’mon, you have to tell me. We’re sisters!”

“I don’t kiss and tell.” I headed for the door, but she blocked me.

“Was it Alexander?” she asked.

I went around her, ignoring her question. It was best to neither confirm nor deny, and I didn’t know if I could pull off a convincing lie when it came to the subject of Alexander and sex. That was something I was definitely going to have to work on.

Lola pouted the rest of lunch, ganging up on me when Mom brought up the subject of dating.

“And your father says that his new associate is single,” she told me. “He’s working on an app that allows you to follow people all over the world and text them.”

“Sounds like Twitter,” I said dismissively. There was no way I was going on a blind date with one of my father’s web developer friends.

“Clara’s seeing someone,” Lola said. She took a bite of cookie and smiled smugly as she chewed.

“You said you weren’t!” Mom looked at me accusingly.

“And I’m not. Not really,” I added.

“What about you, Lola?” Mom asked, and the two of them fell into a discussion about the numerous men vying for my sister’s affection.