I shook my head. “I’m on call.”
“The baby,” he said knowingly. “Clara keeps her phone on all the time.”
“I’m certain Belle appreciates that.”
“Of course, your wife is here nearly every day, or has been for the last week. I imagine she might go into labor here.”
“Is that a problem?” I asked, keeping my tone even. Being near Alexander meant constantly recalculating my position.
“No.” He took a sip thoughtfully before taking the chair opposite mine. “But if she’s here, I’m not certain she needs my best man nannying her.”
“Need I remind you that you owe me?” I said coolly. Alexander did not want me as an enemy. Perhaps, he needed a reminder of that fact.
“I know that, but I can’t say I appreciate you reassigning men on my behalf.” He crossed one leg over the other, unbuttoned his navy jacket and relaxed into the seat.
“Let’s cut the bullshit, shall we?” I offered. “Where’s my father’s gun?”
“In a safe in this very office.” His eyes stayed trained on me. A lesser man might have looked toward wherever this safe was hidden, but, as strained as my relationship to him was, I knew Alexander was no small man. He’d proven time and again that he was willing to go as far as he needed to in order to protect his family. I could respect that.
I simply didn’t have to sacrifice the safety of my own family for his, though.
“Are you sure?”
“Clara told me about the present you received. I checked the gun that night,” he told me. “It’s still loaded, Smith.”
I sucked in a deep breath, wishing I could get that drink after all. For the most part, I’d given up alcohol in recent years, but I couldn’t claim sobriety. Still, I’d managed to keep my drinking mostly to social occasions and not as a form of escape. Now wasn’t the time to change that habit.
“I don’t suppose it's a coincidence,” Alexander admitted. His gaze traveled to the fire where it lingered for an unnaturally long time before he spoke again. “Georgia mentioned that you saw it as connected to MI-18.”
“Don’t you?” I asked.
“I struggle to see anything as unconnected from them these days,” he said bitterly. “To be honest, when I heard you were moving your family to Sussex, I was relieved.”
I blinked, processing this confession. Alexander had seemed cold at best when I’d informed him that I wanted to step away from future investigations. I’d helped him before because losing Clara would have broken parts of my wife that would never heal, and because I sympathized with Alexander’s situation. If it were me, I’d want his help. But we had more to lose than ever before—and I was more than a little surprised to hear that he recognized that.
“But now you’re back in the city,” he continued.
“We aren’t staying.”
“Does your wife know that?” he asked in a soft voice that was uncharacteristically concerned. “Because she seems to be clinging to her life here rather tightly.”
“That will change.”
He inclined his head as though he understood that all too well. “In the meantime, Brex will remain nearby. No one will get past him, but if you do decide—”
“Once we’re out of London, I can handle matters,” I cut him short. Alexander owed me one, and I would call in that favor, but part of starting over meant severing ties.
“It won’t be easy for her,” Alexander warned me. “Clara relies on her. I’ve seen what losing Edward has done to my wife. I imagine she’ll reach out to Belle more, but I’ll do what I can to ease the transition.”
“In the meantime,” Alexander said, rising from his chair, “would you like your father’s gun back?”
I knew what he was asking. It wasn’t a simple offer to return the weapon I’d left in his safekeeping. He was asking how far I was willing to go to protect her. I’d made a choice the day I’d given him that gun. I’d chosen then to believe we’d found our way out of the darkness, but the clouds had returned to block the sun one more. Our eyes locked, an unspoken understanding passing between us. The two of us might not always see eye to eye but we both agreed on one thing. When it came to our wives, we would sacrifice anything to keep them safe.
“Please.”
Alexander moved to his desk, reaching under, his hand hidden from sight. A moment later, a portrait of his father opened slowly. I watched as he opened the safe, which was locked with a biometric sensor. He reached inside and withdrew the handgun. Instead of handing it to me, he pushed open the chamber and took out the copper bullet. He held it up between his thumb and forefinger for me to see.
“A word of advice, this isn’t about him. Whatever happens now. it’s bigger than that. You can’t let the past cloud your judgement. You can’t let ghosts distract you from the real enemy.”
Like he had. He didn’t have to say it. Alexander had trusted the wrong people and nearly lost everything. It was a mistake he didn’t want to see repeated. I nodded, and Alexander slipped the bullet into his own pocket.
“You don’t need that,” he told me, passing me the gun.
It wasn’t a call to pacifism. It was a reminder to focus on the danger in front of me, and whoever was behind that had already sent me the ammunition that would end this.
“If you need more,” Alexander offered.
“I’ll be in touch.” But we both knew that wasn’t true. The next time I left London it would be for good.
10
Belle
Clara had put ideas in my head. I’d spent the afternoon stewing over what she said. Smith was my key. He fit me in every way. Between the stress of remodeling, running a business, and a seemingly never ending string of threats to both us and our friends, we never seemed to catch a break. It wasn’t as though our sex life had suffered, but I finally understood what was missing. Smith was being a gentleman, preparing for the moment he would become a father.
I loved him for that. Despite his own tragic childhood, he’d wanted a baby as much as I did. Maybe more. He had faith in our ability to be good parents, which made me feel a bit more calm about it as her arrival approached. Nothing had escaped his notice from foot rubs to snacks to coming with me to the doctor. He was falling into the role with an ease I almost envied.
But one of the ways he fit me the most was by being rough and unexpected. I would also want to make love to my husband, but sometimes I wanted him to fuck me.
Like he owned me.
Because he did.
Like I craved it.
Because I did.
In the beginning of my pregnancy, especially after losing our first baby, I’d appreciated his gentle concern. But there was no cause for concern. Every scan had shown a completely healthy baby. I’d flown through this pregnancy with nothing to worry about, save for a little morning sickness in the first trimester. I’d seen Clara’s body during a doctor’s appointment when she was pregnant with William. Alexander hadn’t held back. He’d marked her as his own.
I never thought I’d have to ask Smith to do the same to me. But more than ever I craved the liberation his total dominance gave me. I needed him to take me, use me, possess me.