Breathe Me Smith and Belle (Royals Saga #11) - Geneva Lee Page 0,27

the video to her husband, but that wasn’t who she was thinking of. I knew because I’d been worrying about Edward, too. “You should send it to him.”

“Alexander hates missing this stuff.”

“You know what I meant.” I’d seen the pain in her eyes when she’d realized he wasn’t coming to the baby shower last week. I’d nearly called him the next day to give him a piece of my mind, upset that he’d missed it, especially since Alexander hadn’t been there. I’d had to remind myself that I needed to give him the space to heal, even if I wanted to mother him until he felt better.

“Have you spoken with him?” she asked with some hesitation.

“For a few minutes.” I’d only seen him once since we came back to London, and no part of me wanted to relay to her the things he’d said that day. I knew that if I told her we’d lunched together, she would ask and I would have to lie more. Edward had asked me not to tell her how much he was struggling with his feelings toward his family. I needed to respect that as much as I could. “He called to tell me he was going to Italy.”

“Italy?” She did a decent job of looking surprised, but Edward had been running away as often as possible from the city. I didn’t have the heart to tell her he planned to be gone for the holidays, as well.

“He said he’s eating all the pasta and getting fat.” He had, in fact, used those exact words.

But Clara’s voice was distant, lost to guilt, when she responded, “He’s never going to forgive me.”

“It’s not you that he has to forgive,” I said gently. “He needs time to process what David did and what…”

I stopped before I brought up Alexander. Truthfully, I was sure he’d had a choice. I knew what Smith would have done in the same situation. He’d kill anyone that hurt his family without hesitation—even if it was someone he cared about. But that didn’t make David’s death or how it happened any easier to swallow. We could only hope that someday the brothers would find a way to move past the tragedy.

“He’ll come back,” I said, needing to believe it. Everyone deserved a second chance. No matter what they’d done. “Send him the video.”

She thought about it a moment before she pulled up the video and sent it. When she was done, she laid the phone on a side table and reached down to pick up Wills, who’d begun to fuss on the floor. “So, no induction?”

“I asked,” I said, feeling my frustration creep back up. “She said it’s not recommended without medical necessity. I told her I was going crazy but, apparently, that’s not enough of a reason.”

“Trust me, you don’t want a c-section,” Clara said, smiling in a way I’d come to expect from a mother who’d already experienced the blessed event of childbirth. “Maybe there’s something you and Smith could do…”

“Believe me, we’ve tried.”

“I figured,” she said sympathetically.

“Of course, he’s treating me like I’m fragile. Maybe that’s why it’s not working.”

Clara bit her lower lip, glancing over at Elizabeth who was busily pulling books of William’s shelves. “Prefer something a bit darker?”

“Rougher, at least.” I rolled my eyes. “I could really use a break, but I think he’s worried that he’ll take things too far.”

“That’s what safe words are for.”

I flinched in surprise. Clara and I had danced around the particulars of our sex lives for years now, but we both knew we were dealing with dominant men. Still, given that she’d once blushed at the mention of missionary position, I couldn’t help being a bit shocked to hear using a term like that.

“Don’t look shocked,” she said. “I found a collar in your closet once.”

I sighed at the reminder of how much things had changed.

“Tell him you want it like that,” she advised me, seeing the disappointment on my face. “Remind him that a little kink isn’t going to hurt the baby.”

“I just need a break,” I admitted to her.

“Do you want to talk about what happened?” she asked gently.

Talking wasn't going to solve this. I'd tried that already, but I couldn't deny Smith had a right to be worried. “There’s nothing to talk about. I have six feet of imposing black man following me around.”

“Brex is sweet though,” she said, “and hot.”

“I knew you thought he was hot,” a deep voice cut in. Clara’s eyes closed tightly, embarrassed