X: Command Me through Alexander's Eyes - Geneva Lee Page 0,34

in black and white.

“Father will be here any moment,” Edward continues. “I expect”—

“I don’t give a fuck what he thinks,” I growl, ripping the papers in half. “I need to go.”

I stalk off before he can stop me. There’s only one person I owe an explanation—and I know exactly where to find her.

Norris isn’t speaking to me. I gathered he was upset when I gave him the address where I needed to go. He’s seen the report on her. He knows where she works. He knows she’s just started her job.

“Let it out,” I finally bark from the back seat of the Rolls. I can avoid my father’s wrath. Hell, I even revel in it a bit. But Norris doesn’t usually give me the cold shoulder. He’s more into the standard lecture.

“I don’t see the point.” His eyes stay on the road. His control makes me feel like a wild card. There’s no emotion betrayed in his voice. His body remains relaxed. I assume this is a holdover from years in military and private service. I don’t ask.

“But you don’t think I should go to her.” He’d made his feelings on this known. He didn’t approve of me checking up on Clara Bishop on paper. Why would he encourage me to seek her out in person, especially after this fiasco?

“Timing is an art form few humans master. None of them are male.” There’s an unexpected dryness in his tone. Norris is cracking a joke. There might be hope for us yet.

“I need to see that she’s okay. I got her into this mess.”

“By not staying away? Will going to her improve matters?”

He has a point. I refuse to admit it. “Just drive.”

This time I catch his lips twitching in the rearview mirror. Maybe he’s human after all.

Peters & Clarkwell takes up one floor of a nondescript office building not far from Westminster. The benefit of this is that everyone here is busy going about their days. Work and lunch and whatever else normal people did during the week.

I shove my hands into my jeans and stroll toward the lift, pleased that no one seems to notice my appearance. Apparently, the paparazzi hasn’t caught up to where she works. Yet.

There’s no use pretending that she’ll remain a secret now. They’ll follow her incessantly. My father will demand answers. I didn’t lead her into hell gently. I’d dropped her into the inferno. She needs me to protect her now.

I’m planning to tell her—planning to explain exactly how things are going to be when the lift slides open, revealing her. Her knuckles are white on her bag’s strap. Her cheeks are burning with a lovely shade of embarrassment. Every ounce of me wants to shove her against a wall, hike up her skirt, and show her that I’m capable of all the things I’d promised in those sodding text messages.

She stumbles when she spots me, but before I can respond, she straightens and heads straight for me. I hadn’t expected that.

Clara Bishop is strong.

Good.

She needs to be.

The buzzing behind her reminds me more of a beehive than an office. Heads pop over cubicles. There’s a woman whose tea is dripping on the floor as she holds the cup at an odd angle. Every person in the office is staring at me. I only care that she’s staring, even if her glare is murderous.

It’s a pity all these people are here because Clara Bishop is sexy when she’s angry. I can’t help thinking about the perfect body under her proper office clothes—of what I want to do to it.

“What are you doing here?” She crosses her arms over her chest, still fuming, but now that she’s closer, I realize the fury stops before it reaches her eyes. I recognize the hungry, wild look she can’t hide. It had been there when I took her to bed. I’d seen it as I pushed her to the edge and then over it. Her breath catches, and I can almost hear her say it. Yes, please. She’d been so polite with her desire. So eager. So pliant. I want her to say those words again.

“You’ve had long enough. I need to talk to you.” I don’t give her the chance to argue with me. I doubt she would in front of her co-workers. Instead, I take her by the arm gently—I’ll save the roughness for when I get her into bed—and lead her toward the lift.

But she’s not exactly following my lead. Her body is rigid, coiled