Page 81 of Cross Me

“Henry,” I asked, putting to words a question that had bothered me since Alexander had revealed the truth about Anders, “that day at the track, before the accident, you said something about it being impossible—that Alexander couldn’t know. What did you mean?”

“I think you already know.” Henry patted my hand with a sigh. “It’s nice to have it out in the open.”

“Is it?” I wasn’t sure that was true. A year ago, Alexander hadn’t known a thing about Anders. Now he had another family member to worry about, one who wouldn’t make it easy for him.

“It may not seem like it, but trust me, secrets are poison. They change you.” His eyes took on the same distant quality they had the day of Anders’ crash.

“So you’ve known Albert’s secret the whole time?”

“I knew all my brother’s secrets.”

“All?” I repeated.

“A King is burdened with many worries. Albert turned to me often.” He said this as if it were no big deal to cover up illegitimate children and God knew what else.

“I wish he would have talked more with Alexander,” I admitted. “I guess everything was different after Sarah died.”

His brows knitted together as he considered this. “Everyone believed Sarah’s accident broke Alexander’s relationship with his father. Albert broke it himself, just like he destroyed his relationship with Liz.”

“You said that before.” My mind drifted to Alexander and me. Albert had loved his wife. He’d spoken of her with a passion I couldn’t deny. Maybe her loss had shown him what he’d taken for granted, but Henry spoke like it was something more. “What drove them apart?”

“The thing that sets a sovereign apart. Power.” He looked down at me, his eyes narrowing. “You’re worried about your relationship with Alexander.”

I swallowed on the lump of uncertainty in my throat before I tipped my head.

“He kept the truth about Anders from you. I can’t say I approve.”

“You said secrets were poison. Sometimes I think my husband doesn’t know that,” I admitted. I wanted to believe we’d put that part of our relationship behind us, but could we ever, really? I was keeping something from him now, because I believed I was protecting him. He had done the same for the same reasons. “It’s difficult to know what to tell and what to keep buried.”

“Secrets don’t stay buried in this family,” he advised.

“Then I hope we’ve dug them all up.”

His lips twisted into a rueful smile as he looked across the grounds of the palace. His eyes were full of memories.

“I don’t care what this family’s done,” I said fiercely. “Alexander and I are going to change it all. Anders was the last secret that will come between us.”

“Oh, Clara.” Henry turned and patted my hand like he was soothing an innocent child. “Do you know how many estates this family has? There are lots of rooms to bury secrets and even more closets to stash skeletons. I’m afraid your husband hasn’t been as honest as you think.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

ALEXANDER

It was dark before I sent everyone home. When I’d failed to appear for dinner, Clara had appeared. She circled around my desk and grabbed the arms of my chair. Spinning me to the side, she leaned down and covered my mouth with hers. A curtain of hair fell around my face, surrounding me with her sweet scent. My hands went to her ass, drawing her closer.

“I thought you were coming to bed,” she murmured, taking her lips from me.

“Too far,” I grunted, shoving her skirt to her hips.

“You have a one-track mind.” She wiggled away from me, but didn’t push it back down. Instead she hoisted herself onto my desk, allowing her legs to fall open. Her stockings stopped at her creamy thighs, held in place by garters.

“I do.” I wasn’t ashamed of it. I rolled my chair between her legs and hooked a finger under the fabric bunched at her waist. Lifting it, I discovered a lace garter belt slung low under her belly. My cock, which has been following recent developments, stiffened at the sight of her sex on display, her body rounded with the life she carried for me. “Fuck, Poppet. We are definitely not making it to the bedroom.”

“How was your meeting?” she asked, playing with a strand of hair in an expert display of coyness.

My eyebrow arched, a low rumble growling in my chest. “No business talk.”

I gripped her hips but before I could yank her forward, she placed her palm on her chest. “We said no more secrets, X. Tell me how it went.”