Page 20 of Cross Me

He looked down at me, sorrow tinging his blue eyes, and smiled sadly. “I’m not, but you make me think I could be.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

ALEXANDER

Clara had not budged on her position by morning. I’d pulled out every argument I could think of and she still wouldn’t acquiesce. It was a dangerous play on my part. The last time I tried to talk her out of doing something had nearly gotten her killed. That was probably the only reason she was still at Buckingham the next morning. Even she couldn’t deny my concern was warranted. Not that she would admit that to me. She’d made that clear last night. When I brought it up, she’d laughed, albeit nervously, and reminded me that we still have no proof she had been a target at all. To her, it was simply a matter of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

That was bullshit. Members of the Royal Family didn’t coincidentally walk into a place where a bomb was about to go off. I wouldn’t admit this to her—but we didn’t have any proof the attack had had anything to do with her yet. It was frustrating. It was exhausting. I was at the end of my patience trying to understand what had happened. We almost got the intel too late that day. There had been a breakdown somewhere in our communications and in our security precautions. I was determined that wouldn’t happen again.

However, maintaining my family’s safety was going to be infinitely harder if Clara continued to insist on putting herself in the spotlight with these stupid games.

I reached my office before sunrise and found Norris already there. I took a long look at my old friend, noting the dark circles under his eyes and how much deeper the creases in his face ran these days. He carried the responsibility of protecting my family on his shoulders as much as I did. I shouldn’t have been surprised to find him here, waiting to consider our options.

He didn’t move from the sofa as I came in. There was no point. Norris and I didn’t rely on ceremony and protocol. I liked to pretend that he felt he was my equal. Still, I couldn’t deny that on more than one occasion I had played my trump card by issuing a command. He had always followed them. It was the one lingering sign our relationship was not built entirely on love and accountability, but rather respect and duty. Sometimes I wished my wife shared his amenability.

“I took the liberty of ordering coffees,” he told me as I shut the door behind me.

What I had to say to him needed to remain between the two of us, and the staff would be arriving within the hour. I only wished we could sort out this mess in that short an amount of time.

“Did you sleep at all?” I asked him, taking the sofa opposite his. Someone had lit a fire, perhaps Norris, and I was grateful. Even inside the palace’s thick walls, I felt January’s chill.

He studied me for a moment, no doubt taking in my haggard features, and shook his head. “Did you?”

“I had to reason with her,” I said. I didn’t bother to tell him what methods of persuasion I’d resorted to. He could probably guess.

“Maybe reasoning with her isn’t the right method,” he suggested.

I arched an eyebrow in surprise. It wasn’t like Norris to take my side so easily. If he could see that Clara was being irrational, then maybe I’d been right to try to stop her. “What would you suggest? I could demand she not host the games. I could—”

“I don’t think that will work out the way you hope.” Norris snorted as if in on his own private joke.

He was probably right about that, which left me fewer options, but much more decisive ones. “I could call off the games. If I announce it publicly, no one will dare to undermine me, not even Clara.”

“You should consider how the people will feel about it, though,” Norris said. “It won’t be a popular decision. I don’t need to remind you that when certain other matters come to light, there might be a public reaction. I wouldn’t court more controversy if I were you.”

“And what would you have me do?” I exploded, all of the frustration I felt for the last twelve hours coming to a head.

“Have you spoken to your grandmother?”

“What do you think?” He knew enough about our relationship to know better. She hadn’t come here on my invitation, but rather left a message telling me to expect her. She still believed that this palace—that this monarchy—belonged to her. Now, she wanted to come stir an already simmering pot. No, I hadn’t invited her. In fact, I should have told her she wasn’t welcome at all.

“I suspected.” Norris, who’d been fiddling with his cufflinks, abandoned them and turned his attention to me. “Perhaps, that’s where you start. Speak with your grandmother. Speak with your uncle. Explain to them the security issues that we’re facing and how the games would exacerbate the situation. You always presume one will respond unreasonably, but you might be surprised how they will react when given the facts.”

“I doubt that. Besides, what good will it do me?” It wouldn’t convince Clara to let this go. Even if my grandmother agreed to cancel the games, would my wife?

“Who cancels the games will make a difference,” he advised me. “Most of the countries still perceive your grandmother as a grieving mother. If she were to announce a stay in the plans out of respect for your father’s memory, no one would question that.”

“And you really believe she’d go along with that?”

There was a knock on the door and we exchanged a glance. It appeared our time was up, and we were no closer to finding a solution to our problems. Norris stood, straightening his suit jacket and offered me a sympathetic smile. “We won’t know until we ask.”

I wished I had his optimism.

Norris told me my grandmother had agreed to speak later in the morning, which was a promising sign. She’d agreed to come with Henry. Even though the meeting would be in my office and on my terms, I still wondered how a man like Norris—who’d seen so much—could hope for a good outcome.

She arrived wearing one of the stiff, formal dress suits that had been her signature when she’d held the role my wife now did. That was the difference between her and Clara. Mary had made every decision, even when choosing how to dress each day, out of a sense of duty. Even now, when she was free from the restrictions of her previous title, she continued to uphold an outdated persona. That was probably why she despised my wife so much. Not only had Clara been an outsider, but she’d fought me and my family’s rules nearly every step of the way. I loved her for it, even when it drove me insane. I could only imagine how Clara would punish me when she found out this meeting had been held without her.

My cock twitched at the thought of my wife’s face flushed with anger. It always did when I pictured her rising to challenge me. It was a bad habit—getting turned on by angering my wife—and one I needed to break.