X: Command Me through Alexander's Eyes - Geneva Lee Page 0,73

your life, Clara. You know how dangerous that is. Does he even know? Have you spoken with him since the story was leaked?” she sobs.

Her questions reverse my previous decision to stay out of it. I don’t think. I just know that I won’t let Clara apologize to her mother for what the media did to her yesterday.

“He knows,” I answer her mother’s question, leaving no room for her to misinterpret what I’m saying. Clara’s gaze falls on me, her eyes shutting for just a moment, and I know she’s bracing for impact. But I won’t let her endure it alone. I’m surprisingly good with parents. “You must be Clara’s mother. I’m pleased to meet you, Mrs. Bishop.”

I extend a hand, but her mother doesn’t move. She just stares at me, her mouth hanging open. She’s a lovely woman if a bit overdone. It’s obvious who Clara gets her looks from.

“Mom,” Clara says softly. “This is Alexander.”

She looks between us twice, shaking her head and turning on me. “Well, I’m glad she told you. Relationships must be built on honesty. Don’t you agree, Alexander?”

“Of course.” I force a smile for her sake.

“I think it would be best for all of us, particularly Clara, if we had someone attempting to contain this story. I’m sure you agree with that as well.” She taps her fingers, waiting for me to agree with her. I suspect most people don’t bother disagreeing with her often. I’m not most people.

“Unfortunately, I can tell you from personal experience that it’s very difficult to control what they publish, whether it’s true or not,” I point out.

She shakes her head, dismissing me outright. I’m reminded of my father. “We have to do something.”

“I can’t promise anything, but I do have my best man looking into the circumstances behind the story,” I say.

Clara’s eyes widen with horror. “You shouldn’t be dragged into this.”

“This happened because of me. It’s the least I can do.” Why does she have to argue with me? I don’t know what it will take to convince Clara that she’s going to have to get used to things like this happening—as well as allowing me to deal with them.

I suddenly find myself hugging her mum, who clutches me like a life preserver. I’m not sure she’s going to let me go.

“Thank you,” she whispers as Clara shoots a sympathetic look at me. “It’s so nice to see Clara has found someone.” She finally lets me go, and her tears are miraculously dried when she hits me with, “We’d love to take you both to dinner. Do you have plans tomorrow?”

“Mom!” Clara looks like she’s going to kick her out.

I suppose it’s fair.

“I’d love to,” I say before Clara gets too worked up.

“You’d what?” Clara asks, but Mrs. Bishop is already linking her arm with mine as she makes her way to the door.

“I’ll arrange everything.” She pats my arm reassuringly. “You don’t have any food allergies? I’ll call Clara with the details. Harold will be so excited.”

I swear that she didn’t even pause for a breath. Clara’s already at the door, trying to shoo her out.

When she finally manages it, she slumps against the door, pressing a hand to her forehead. “I’m sorry about that.”

“She seems to be a bit of a handful.” At least, her intentions are blatantly transparent.

“I can get you out of this,” Clara says quickly. “Don’t worry about it.”

I frown. “I don’t mind going to dinner with your parents.”

“Are…you…sure?” She gawks at me. I must really be shit at this boyfriend thing.

“Stop staring at me like I need a straight jacket. Unless you don’t want me to go to dinner with your parents.” Is that what this is about?

“No!” she shrieks, startling a bit. “Of course, I do, but I understand if you aren’t comfortable.”

“Isn’t this what boyfriends are supposed to do?” I ask. “Meet the parents. Charm them. Earn the privilege to debauch their daughter.”

Clara continues to stare.

“Is something wrong?” I ask, replaying the last few minutes and looking for clues. I’d been polite. I’d agreed to dinner. “Did I do something to upset you?”

She swallows, shaking her head. “Nope. I just don’t deserve you, X.”

“You don’t.” She’s not wrong about that. “No one deserves to put up with me.”

Her finger presses to my lips, her blue eyes growing sad. “Don’t say that.”

“Where did you come from?” I ask softly. “Who sent you to save me?”

Clara’s eyes pierce through me, and then her mouth is on mine. I don’t think. I