Page 25 of Breathe Me: Smith & Belle

9

Smith

Ishowed myself into the King’s study, knowing full-well that it would likely be enough to have my security clearance revoked. Taking a seat in an upholstered wingback, I had to admit I appreciated Buckingham’s sense of tradition where comfort was concerned. The fire flickering in the hearth made the room feel rather homey. It certainly lessened the sense of formality and occasion that accompanied more public meetings with the young King. I had been here a number of times and knew my way around the space. I also knew that Alexander would be returning from his audience with the Prime Minister shortly. I’d been working with Alexander up until a few weeks ago. It wasn’t that we were on poor terms. Our relationship was almost entirely transactional and always had been. I’d come to him with information regarding his father’s death. At the time, I’d only wanted to see Hammond put behind bars, so I could finally claim my life as my own. But the situation had proven more complicated than either of us had foreseen.

Alexander paused in the doorway, his clear eyes narrowing dangerously when he spotted me sitting next to his fire. He closed the door to his office, moving to his desk without so much as a word.

“I asked for a meeting,” I said by way of explanation.

“One usually waits for said meeting to be scheduled.” He shuffled a few papers around before giving up the ruse of being too busy to join me. Still, his lips turned down as he walked over to a brass cart and poured himself a bourbon. He held up the crystal decanter in offering.

I shook my head. “I’m on call.”

“The baby,” he said knowingly. “Clara keeps her phone on all the time.”

“I’m certain Belle appreciates that.”

“Of course, your wife is here nearly every day, or has been for the last week. I imagine she might go into labor here.”

“Is that a problem?” I asked, keeping my tone even. Being near Alexander meant constantly recalculating my position.

“No.” He took a sip thoughtfully before taking the chair opposite mine. “But if she’s here, I’m not certain she needs my best man nannying her.”

“Need I remind you that you owe me?” I said coolly. Alexander did not want me as an enemy. Perhaps, he needed a reminder of that fact.

“I know that, but I can’t say I appreciate you reassigning men on my behalf.” He crossed one leg over the other, unbuttoned his navy jacket and relaxed into the seat.

“Let’s cut the bullshit, shall we?” I offered. “Where’s my father’s gun?”

“In a safe in this very office.” His eyes stayed trained on me. A lesser man might have looked toward wherever this safe was hidden, but, as strained as my relationship to him was, I knew Alexander was no small man. He’d proven time and again that he was willing to go as far as he needed to in order to protect his family. I could respect that.

I simply didn’t have to sacrifice the safety of my own family for his, though.

“Are you sure?”

“Clara told me about the present you received. I checked the gun that night,” he told me. “It’s still loaded, Smith.”

I sucked in a deep breath, wishing I could get that drink after all. For the most part, I’d given up alcohol in recent years, but I couldn’t claim sobriety. Still, I’d managed to keep my drinking mostly to social occasions and not as a form of escape. Now wasn’t the time to change that habit.

“I don’t suppose it's a coincidence,” Alexander admitted. His gaze traveled to the fire where it lingered for an unnaturally long time before he spoke again. “Georgia mentioned that you saw it as connected to MI-18.”

“Don’t you?” I asked.

“I struggle to see anything as unconnected from them these days,” he said bitterly. “To be honest, when I heard you were moving your family to Sussex, I was relieved.”

I blinked, processing this confession. Alexander had seemed cold at best when I’d informed him that I wanted to step away from future investigations. I’d helped him before because losing Clara would have broken parts of my wife that would never heal, and because I sympathized with Alexander’s situation. If it were me, I’d want his help. But we had more to lose than ever before—and I was more than a little surprised to hear that he recognized that.

“But now you’re back in the city,” he continued.

“We aren’t staying.”

“Does your wife know that?” he asked in a soft voice that was uncharacteristically concerned. “Because she seems to be clinging to her life here rather tightly.”

“That will change.”

He inclined his head as though he understood that all too well. “In the meantime, Brex will remain nearby. No one will get past him, but if you do decide—”

“Once we’re out of London, I can handle matters,” I cut him short. Alexander owed me one, and I would call in that favor, but part of starting over meant severing ties.