Chapter 14
Unusual Date
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Her flat isn’t what I expect. Clara belongs in a tower, locked safely away from the world. Instead, she lives in East London in a pre-war flat that looks less than average. I can’t help noticing the lack of security for the building. She’s far too exposed here. We’re lucky there’s a back entrance and that Norris has found a quiet backstreet not populated by paparazzi that leads directly to it. The man deserves a raise or a knighthood. I doubt he’d accept either.
“We should put someone on her,” I say to Norris. He’s riding shotgun this evening since we’ve taken a limousine.
“Your father isn’t going to like it,” he mutters.
“My father never likes anything I do,” I remind him.
“I’ll look into it.” Norris opens his car door and exits the limo.
I follow suit and he stares at me.
“Sir?”
“I’m going to pick her up.” I reach inside and pick up the bouquet I’ve brought for her. It’s enough that he’s stuck running my errands. I didn’t even buy the flowers. “This is a date. I should play the part.”
He pauses, weighing his options. He knows me well enough to know that I’m going inside with or without him. “I’ll be right here.”
Having a bodyguard at the back door isn’t exactly normal as far as I know, but it’s as close as I’m likely to get. I nod, relieved for the small bit of ordinary I’m allowed and head inside.
I take the stairs two at a time despite my tuxedo. I practically grew up in formal wear, but now it feels restrictive. I’d grown used to a uniform of fatigues. Now I’m stuck in the uniform of a prince. I’m not certain it suits me anymore.
Pausing at her door, I run a hand through my hair, mussing it out of place. At least, that makes me feel more like me rather than some slicked and shined version of Prince Charming.
It’s not until I knock that I realize I’ve never done this before. I’ve picked up plenty of women in bars or at parties. If I’d attended tonight’s evening alone, I would have had a dozen options for potential companions for the night. But I’ve never knocked on a girl’s door. I’ve never brought a woman flowers. Clara Bishop is my first date.
But she isn’t the one to answer the door. I barely process the blonde who opens it because before I can say hello, I spot her.
Dressed in silver silk that dances over her perfect body, the swell of her breasts on display, Clara is every dream I’ve ever had. Dark curls spill over one creamy shoulder as striking as the scarlet red of her lips against her fair skin. Looking at her, I suddenly understand the answer to every question that’s ever been asked.
Her.
The blonde breaks the silence. Moving to allow me entry, she says, “It’s nice to meet you.”
It takes effort to peel my eyes from Clara in that dress and the thousands of dirty ideas it’s inspiring. I turn to introduce myself. It’s the polite thing to do. Another strange first: meeting the roommate. “Alexander. You must be Belle.”
She hesitates, then finally nods. “Are you looking forward to this evening?”
“Yes,” I lie. I can think of much better ways to spend the evening with Clara. All of them involve that dress coming off. Something that won’t be possible at a sodding birthday part. “That is, I’m looking forward to the company.”
Belle looks pleased by my answer. She inclines her head toward the hall. “Excuse me a moment.”
At least, she knows when three is company. I step toward Clara, awkwardly presenting the flowers.
“I thought you didn’t do romance.” She sniffs them delicately, clearly surprised.
“Consider that a consolation prize,” I say. “If you’re going to put up with my family for the evening, you deserve a reward.”
That’s not why I brought them. Why the fuck can’t I just tell her she’s lovely and take her hand and be normal? Why can’t I bring her roses and sweep her off her feet?
Because as she said, I don’t do romance. I’ve warned her, and yet, here I am doing exactly that and failing completely. Even worse, I realize that I’ve set her on edge. She’s searching her cabinets for a vase with a barely suppressed frantic, wild-eyed panic. She’s meeting my family. Another first. I’d nearly forgotten, and so had she, apparently.
I can’t watch her fret. Moving behind her, I grab her hips, willing her to be still for a moment. “Don’t think about them.”
“That’s easier said than done,” she whispers. “I barely know what’s going on between us and now I’m going to meet your family.”
“It’s not a big deal. Just remember that if they’re jerks it’s because of me and not you.” I try to sound casual, but my hands tighten on her. I’m leading her into the lion’s den. I might as well display her on a silver platter. They’ll be salivating to get a taste of her the moment we arrive. She’ll be lucky to survive.
“That doesn’t really make me feel better,” she admits.
“Don’t think about it.” I draw her to me, feeling calmed by her body against mine. “Right now, I want you to think about what I’m going to do to you in that dress.”
This earns me a smile. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to concentrate with you looking like that.”
“She does look fantastic, doesn’t she?” Belle interrupts.
“Yes.” I agree absently.
Belle finds the sought-after vase we’ve forgotten and brandishes it in triumph. “Here. Oh wait!”
She whirls around and pull something from a drawer.
“Sorry!” she says to me as she moves between us a moment later. When she steps aways, a rose in full bloom is tucked into Clara’s hair.
“Perfect.” I can already imagine that being the only thing I allow Clara to keep on later.
“I need to go. Philip will be downstairs.” Belle kisses her goodbye. “See you there!”
Clara looks relieved at the reminder that she won’t be alone with me. I wonder what it’s like to have friends at these things. Usually, I feel surrounded by snakes. It must be comforting.
“Shall we?” I offer her my arm. “If we don’t get going, I’m going to spread you across the kitchen counter.”
She bites her lip but it doesn’t hide the excitement glinting in her eyes. Is that because I’m taking her to a party or because she wants to be spread across the counter?
I shake away the temptation to find out. “Let’s get to the car before we miss the party, Miss Bishop.”
“Lead the way, X.”
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