X: Command Me through Alexander's Eyes - Geneva Lee Page 0,12
her head protectively.
I’ve done this. I’m the one that asked her to come. I’m the reason she wound up on those bloody tabloids. Moving to her, I kneel and guide her hands gently away from her beautiful face.
“Are you okay, Clara?” I say only loudly enough for her to hear.
She nods, her eyes flickering to the crowd and their cameras. None of them exist to me. I can only think of her. I need to get her away. I need to help her.
Taking her hand, I lift her to her feet as a new onslaught of questions finally starts. Even my authority has a time limit.
“Alexander, is this your girlfriend?”
“Alexander, is it true that your father doesn’t approve of your relationship with a commoner?”
Clara cringes, and I bite back a rebuke. I won’t lower myself to speak to this scum that knocked her to the ground. But how can’t they see the truth? There is nothing common about this woman. Placing a hand on the small of her back, I claim her for them to see. She can reject me. But I will not allow them to see her as less than me. A few months ago, I was covered in dirt in the desert. I might have been born with a title, but it doesn’t make me better than her. If anything, I’m so much less.
Norris rushes to the car and opens the door. His eyes meet mine as she climbs inside, and I see the question there. I don’t even have to consider it. Getting in next to her, I slam the door to the cameras and questions. Clara stares at the ground, and I worry for a moment that she’s in shock. There will be time for apologies later. Now I need to know she’s okay. Instinct kicks in, and I wrap an arm around her. Drawing her to me, I inhale sharply when she buries her face against my shoulder. I want to believe I can comfort her, but this is new to me. Instead, I rely on caring for her like I was taught in that club—in that world, I was denied. Clara isn’t my submissive. Not yet. But right now, she needs time to process what happened. So I become her anchor, waiting for her to return to me.
She feels delicate in my arms, and I know she needs my protection. One wrong move, though, and I could crush her. Silence hangs between us as we make our way through London. My time with her is running out. I have a choice to make.
“Clara.” I love the way her name tastes on my lips. “Are you okay? I’m sorry you had to go through that. I should have known better than to kiss you.” I screwed up when I kissed her. I’m doing the same now—holding her, being seen with her. I don’t need to complicate this anymore.
Lifting my arm from her shoulder, I run a hand through my hair and wonder what to do next. Clara sits up, breaking contact between our bodies. I allow it, but I don’t like it. Touching her seems to soothe some of the ragged need I feel whenever she’s near.
“I’m fine. Things got out of hand. I’m afraid you’re more experienced with this sort of thing than I am,” she says, meeting my eyes.
“Unfortunately, you’re right.” I hold her gaze until her ass wiggles against the seatback. “I know I should be sorry that I kissed you, but I’m not. In fact, I’d like to do it again.”
“I’m not stopping you,” she whispers.
I force myself to look away from her. But I can’t pretend she’s not here. I can’t ignore her perfect body pressed to mine in the suddenly too small backseat. Her presence—my desire—doesn’t change the facts. “You said no.”
She blinks as if just remembering this herself. “I didn’t mean it.”
“What mixed signals you give me, Miss Bishop. That’s a risqué thing to do with a man like me.”
“And what kind of man is that?” she demands.
“A man who takes what he wants.” I let her digest my words. Clara doesn’t back down, though.
“You haven’t taken me.”
She has to fucking defy me, which is possibly even sexier than the brief glimpses of submission I’ve caught when kissing her.
Bringing a strong woman to her knees—knowing you’re the only one who can tame her—is a rush beyond comparison.
“We met under unusual circumstances.” My hand reaches for her knee, and before I can rethink the gesture, a subtle tremble