Covet Me Read online

  This time it was Clara’s turn to sink shakily into a seat. “I don’t understand.”

  “Honestly, neither do I.” I could only hope she saw how earnestly I meant that.

  “What else?”

  I had a feeling that she had heard a lot more outside that office door. It hurt that our relationship had been reduced to a test. I didn’t know what she had already found out, which meant the only way I could hope to pass her examination was to tell her everything I did know.

  “I didn’t know he was working with Alexander.” It seemed important to get that fact on the table right away. “I had absolutely no clue that they even knew each other.

  “Wait, that’s not entirely true,” I stopped myself. “An acquaintance of Smith’s said she knew you both. It didn’t occur to me that it might be important until now.”

  “Who?” Clara asked in a hollow voice.

  “Georgia Kincaid.”

  Her face blanched. She didn’t have to say a word. She knew Georgia as well as I did, which wasn’t to say all that well. But we both knew the most vital information regarding her. I wanted to ask her how she knew, but considering the way she clutched her chair as if she was barely staying upright, I thought better of it.

  “I guess you’ve met her.” The joke did nothing to lighten the mood.

  “Alexander hired her to keep an eye on me after Daniel got into our house. Obviously she did a fantastic job keeping tabs on him since he managed to get through security on our wedding day.”

  “I can’t say that I like her.”

  “But none of that explains why any of this is happening.” Clara chewed on her fingernails as she spoke.

  Standing, I brought Elizabeth back to Clara to occupy her hands. She took her daughter and held her close, pressing her face against the baby’s petite head. When she looked back up, tears streaked down her face.

  “It’s going to be okay,” I whispered, wishing I believed it.

  “Is it? Because none of this feels okay. Alexander would barely talk to me when I confronted him.” A sob punctuated her words. “And now I find out that you’re keeping things from me as well.”

  “I didn’t want to.” I knelt by her side, placing my hand on her knee. “I didn’t know you were involved. If I had…”

  “What?” she demanded. “You would have told me? Excuse me if I don’t buy that.”

  I sat back on my heels, stung by her accusation. “I didn’t want to worry you when I found out that Smith was involved with these people.”

  “And what about the fact that you married him?” she shot back. “Were you worried about telling me that, too?”

  My mouth fell open. So that was what she’d been holding back. I searched for an excuse, a reason that would account for how terrible the revelation made me feel, but I came up empty-handed. “We haven’t told anyone,” I said meekly.

  “My invitation must have been lost in the mail.” She looked away from me, her thick hair cascading over her shoulder like a dark curtain falling between us.

  “Believe me, you didn’t miss much. The butler at our hotel married us in our suite.” A vice grip squeezed my heart at the memory that I’d kept secret since that night. Sharing it put me in an impossible position. God, I wanted to tell her the details and giggle and marvel that I was married. But the circumstances surrounding our union made that impossible. Perhaps that was why the ring was still tucked into a box in my purse.

  “I’m not anyone. My best friend. My husband. You’ve all been lying to me, and I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel about that.”

  “We were trying to protect you.” That much was true. That much I understood. Clara had endured more fear and pain in the last year than I could even imagine. I hadn’t wanted to add more weight to her shoulders.

  “By lying to me. The people I love don’t trust me enough to support them.”

  “Would you have supported me?” I blurted out. “Because I’m not even sure that I made the right call.”

  “Then why did you do it? Why did you marry him if you knew the kind of man he was?”

  Anger burst through me, setting my blood on fire. “Because I’m the only one who knows what kind of man he truly is.”

  “Edward told me he hurt you,” Clara said in a flat voice. In her arms, Elizabeth stirred and I watched as Clara lowered her to nurse.

  This was what was supposed to be preoccupying her now: caring for her child. The joy she should have felt had been stripped from her, and I didn’t know how to give it back to her.

  “Smith tried to break things off.” She deserved an explanation, and if anyone could understand the complicated nature of falling in love with a powerful man, she could. “Now I know why.”

  “So you knew the danger and you chose him anyway?” Clara sucked in a breath. “Belle, I won’t lie. I’m angry with you, but I’m also terrified for you.”

  “Do you think I’m not scared? Because I am. But I’m more scared of losing him—and losing you. Right now all I want to do is escort you back home and lock you away.”

  “You sound like Alexander.” Her nostrils flared and I wondered just how much of a tongue-lashing he had received this morning. “I had to sneak out just to come here.”

  “You didn’t,” I exclaimed. Popping onto my feet, I grabbed my mobile from my desk.

  “Don’t you dare text him.”

  I paused, torn between the duty I felt to each of them. It was foolish to let her run around without protection, but I hated the idea of betraying what fragile trust might still exist between us.

  “I love you too much to let you put yourself in more danger, and you love her too much”—I pointed at Elizabeth, who was still suckling contentedly—“to risk her.”

  Clara’s eyes narrowed, and I knew then what it was to choose the safety of someone you loved over their happiness.

  “I’m sorry.” But I could tell my apology meant very little to her.

  “Use mine,” she said before I could continue the message. “Call Norris. He’ll come for me, and then you won’t have to deal with Alexander.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “I can deal with Alexander.”

  “I can’t,” she said softly. “I love him. I love you. But right now I want to be alone. Norris will understand that.”

  I decided not to argue with her. Alexander’s personal bodyguard had always been capable of maintaining a much cooler head when it came to Clara, and I knew he wouldn’t allow anyone to harm her. Digging her mobile out of her diaper bag, I dialed his number and explained the situation.

  Neither of us spoke as we waited for him to arrive, and when he finally came to retrieve her, Clara didn’t spare a glance in my direction. No goodbye. No hug.

  I’d told Smith I had a life to return to in London. Now it seemed I didn’t.

  I stayed at the studio, not ready to face Smith but not able to work. As evening approached, I realized I’d done nothing but stare at my computer’s screensaver for the last few hours. Grudgingly I forced myself to stand and gather my things. My eyes landed on a pale pink blanket strung over the back of my chair. Clara had left it.

  Whatever stability my hours of numbness had given me dissolved. They were my family—Elizabeth and Clara and Edward. I’d lost sight of that, and now I’d done what might prove to be irreparable damage to my relationships with them. I picked up the blanket and held it to my chest, closing my eyes and wishing to be set free. For all of us to be free.

  But wishes were for fairy tales, and I had no hope that the universe had any interest in sending me a miracle.

  I folded Elizabeth’s blanket and stuck it in my purse before I locked up and walked to my parked car at the end of the street. I’d return the blanket tomorrow, and I’d apologize to Clara—and then somehow we’d find a way to move forward. Because I wasn’t about to lose my best friend.

  The Mercedes’s lights blinked as I hit the unlock button. At least at this time of night there would be no traffic. After Clara’s visit, I wan
ted answers only Smith could give me. I’d known he was deeply entrenched in a plot to bring Hammond down, but the fact that he was working with Alexander still stunned me. As had Clara’s confrontation regarding my spontaneous marriage.

  I’d agreed to keep that a secret, and it shredded me to know that she’d found out before I could tell her. Before she’d even had a chance to meet him.

  Clearly I was losing my mind. And that left me feeling uprooted. Smith was my anchor, but was he dragging me down? It stung to admit I might have made a mistake. Mostly because I hadn’t even had time to come to grips with the sudden change in my life.

  Opening the door, I moved to drop my bag on the passenger seat when I realized I wasn’t alone.

  Hands grabbed me from behind before I could process this fact. I kicked out, trying to free myself. But the hold on me tightened. The man shoved me against the side of the car, knocking the wind from my lungs.

  I couldn’t breathe, which meant I couldn’t fight.

  Fingers closed over my hair, jerking my head back.

  “Such a fancy car for such a pretty lady.”

  My stomach roiled, and I choked against the bile that rose in my throat as I struggled to find my own voice.

  Scream, a voice deep within me commanded. I opened my mouth, and his hand clamped over it, catching the cry for help before it could take flight.

  “No, no, beautiful,” he chastised me. “None of that now. Why don’t we go for a ride?”

  Beautiful. Hearing that from this strange voice, so intent on humiliating me and probably much worse, spurred something inside me. That wasn’t his word. He had no right to call me that. Just as his hands had no bloody right to my body. Whatever fear locked me into place shifted, and I threw my elbow back. I knew with absolute certainty that I had to stay out of that car. The jab caught him in the ribs, and he lost his grip on me, giving me just enough time to twist away.

  But not enough time to run.

  He caught the back of my shirt and I tripped, crashing to the pavement in a heap, my ankles twisting underneath me. Pain shot through my leg, but I forced it away. Scrabbling forward, my nails raked against the concrete as I attempted to regain my footing.

  The man hauled me back, and I heard the nauseating rip of fabric as my blouse tore at the shoulder. I wriggled, hoping that I could shrug it off. Right now it was the only thing holding me captive. But my attacker was too quick. A heavy weight pinned me to the ground, and my chest constricted as I fought to breathe under the massive burden.

  “You aren’t going anywhere,” the cold voice informed me. His hands snaked underneath me, feeling along my body. My stomach. My breasts.

  Another wrench, and I felt the cool night air on my skin as my shirt fell open, exposing my bare back. His knee pressed into my tailbone as his hands continued to wander down.

  This wasn’t happening.

  I wouldn’t let it. The scream I’d sought broke past my lips, rupturing the quiet night.

  “Shut up, bitch,” he snarled.

  But I wasn’t about to do that. I continued to howl. Someone would hear. Someone had to.

  The sickening sound of my zipper stole my cries, and I writhed, my hands splayed out and searching for salvation from the rough cement. My fingers brushed something cold and metallic, and I grabbed my keys, hitting every button in the process and setting off the car alarm.

  “You shouldn’t have done that,” the man yelled, tearing them from my hands. But it was too late. The Mercedes wailed for help as he frantically tried to shut off the alarm.

  And then silence.

  The street was still empty. No one had heard, and now he had my keys. Gathering every ounce of my strength, I bucked against his hold, knocking him off me. I rolled, and before he could jump back on top of me, I swung the heel of my shoe directly into his stomach, narrowly missing his groin.

  The miscalculation cost me. Rather than dropping him, the strike only made him more infuriated. His hands closed over my throat. The sharp edge of a key pressed into my skin. My legs continued to kick, but I made no contact.

  “You’re a stupid little girl.” Spit splattered over my face, and my head fell to the side, afraid of being so close to this man’s mouth and the hatred spewing from it.

  He grabbed my chin and yanked my face back to his, his other hand still clasped tightly around my neck. His fingers spread up, covering my mouth and then he plunged them inside, wrenching my jaw open. I bit down, but I couldn’t get the momentum I needed. He laughed as he held me there.

  Trembles wracked my body.

  “I just wanted your car, you stupid bitch.” His knee smashed into my stomach, and I arched up, gasping for air I couldn’t find. “Now maybe I’ll take something else.”

  I collapsed under him, panting, as tears pricked my eyes. I stared up at him, my willpower deserting me. I pled silently with the stranger, even as I memorized the crook in his nose and the long scar that ran along his temple.

  If I stopped fighting, what would happen? Right now it seemed like my only choice. I made peace with the fact that I wasn’t walking away unscathed, but I decided then and there that I would walk away. I remained still, bracing myself for whatever came next.

  “That’s right,” he crooned. “You want it, don’t you? You’re hot for it. Can’t let anyone know that a classy lady like you likes to be fucked, can you? Got to put up a little fight. But I got what you need, baby.”

  My body spasmed, and I choked on the vomit I could no longer hold back. The man dropped his hold on me, and my head rolled to the side as I coughed up bile.

  “Dirty bitch,” he screamed. His hand grabbed my hip, his weight shifting as he flipped me onto my stomach and yanked up my skirt. “This is a much better view. I bet you like it everywhere.”

  A fingertip hooked around the strip of my thong, and I began to shake. Inside I screamed but the sound was trapped. I was frozen in place, completely at the mercy of evil.

  And then I heard the sirens. I didn’t know if they were coming for me, but they were there and the sound gave me the power to cry out.

  “Fuck.” The hand disappeared, but he didn’t get off of me.

  I knew then that we were both calculating the same thing: how much longer?

  “You got lucky this time,” he hissed, flattening his body against mine so he could hiss in my ear. “But don’t worry. I’ll find you, baby, and finish you off. I know how bad you need it.”

  His groin circled my ass as I began to sob.

  “I hate when a woman cries.” His hand closed over the back of my head, seizing my hair. He pulled back and captured my mouth, his tongue darting between my lips. This time I bit. Hard. Iron flooded over my tongue just as my face smashed against the pavement. Pain seared through my temple, but before I could process what had happened, he’d slammed me down again.

  I knew then that I was going to die. Through the agony, Smith’s face flashed in my thoughts. I didn’t want him to blame himself. I didn’t want it to end like this, but as my neck snapped back and concrete rushed to meet me once more, I knew there was no stopping the darkness.

  My heart pounded as I bypassed the check-in desk at the hospital’s emergency entrance, striding instead toward a nurse’s station when I reached St. Mary’s.

  “Belle Stuart,” I barked at the nurse sitting behind the counter.

  She glared at me and pointed to a chair. “Only immediate family is allowed in to see her. The doctor is with her now.”

  “I am her family.” Impatience seethed through me. I didn’t have time for this woman or her petty rules. I needed to find my wife. I needed to see her. If no one was going to tell me where she was, I would find her myself. I slammed open a door marked Authorized Entry Only with a small thank you tacked onto the bottom. Trust the British to be polite in every circumstance. That was one trait I hadn’t been born with. I had too much of my mother’s blood in me.

  “Sir!” the nurse called behind me, but I was already down the corridor, my ey
es darting into every open door.

  I could feel myself getting closer, but with each step I took that didn’t bring me to Belle, the furious panic building inside me swelled. I hated hospitals. I hated the stench of sterile death that permeated their halls. I hated the cold, impersonal interiors created to give you nothing to cling to when you were given the worst news.

  This was the only time I’d stepped foot in one since Margot had died. The doctor’s platitudes floated to mind as my brain prepared itself to relive that day. Only this time it would be worse.

  It occurred to me that I was on the eighth floor, high enough to ensure I wouldn’t survive if I could find an open window. My unease grew, and I began to open the closed doors, not bothering to shut them. Angry protests filled the air as I ravaged my way down the hospital wing.

  And then she was there. Eyes closed, monitor softly beeping.

  A pair of hands closed over my shoulders, hauling me away from her room, but I jerked away.

  “Sir, you need to come with us,” a security guard advised me, one hand on the baton hooked on his belt. Another stood silently a few feet behind him.

  “That’s my wife,” I informed him through gritted teeth. “I was told immediate family was allowed in.”

  “They are,” he responded calmly, “but we need to check your identification first, and frankly, it’s up to the hospital if they want to press charges.”

  I tugged my suit jacket down, willing myself to regain my composure. “Call Dr. Roget and tell him Smith Price is visiting a patient. He’ll vouch for me.”

  “We can do that in the lobby.” The guard gestured for me to follow him outside, but I didn’t budge.

  “You can also tell Dr. Roget that I’ll be donating a generous sum to the children’s wing in gratitude for the care my wife receives. I know they need to hire a new oncologist.”

  The guard inhaled deeply, and I could tell he was weighing his options. A man who took his job seriously would drag me to the curb. A good man wouldn’t be able to ignore the offer I’d just extended.