Page 53 of Break Me: Smith and Belle

“I can admit when I’m wrong,” he said defensively.

I raised the other eyebrow.

“I’m just rarely wrong,” he added, smirking. The wicked grin spread over his face easily, but it stopped before it reached his eyes.

“Is everything okay?” I asked in a soft voice. He could claim that he was comfortable admitting when he was wrong, but we both knew that wasn’t true. The fact that he had sought me out to tell me told me I had more to worry about setting things right with him.

“I don’t want you to waste time worrying that I think you hurt Nora. I know you didn’t.”

“You can’t—” before I could tell him what we both knew that wasn’t true, his mouth was on mine. There was an urgency to the kiss. I recognized it for what it was: he was claiming me just as I had done yesterday.

I had driven him to this. But although part of me thought I should push them away and force him to talk this out, more of me craved the comfort I would find in his possession.

Smith carried me to the wall, our hands working to remove our clothing as we went. I tugged his sweater over his head, my fingers fanning over his hard pecs. He paused, momentarily lowering me to the ground to yank off my pants before hoisting me up. I reached to my shirt and lifted it over my head as my heels helped him push his jeans low enough to free his cock. He pushed inside me, meeting no resistance. I was too wet at the promise of feeling his skin on mine. My fingernails sank into shoulders and I clung to him as we guided each other to the answer that always made sense.

We had each other. We had our love. No one could take that away. No sin could break us.

Smith pressed his slick forehead to mine, panting, as he urged me higher and higher. “I love you, beautiful.”

I was too close to speak, my mouth finding his when my words failed me. They promised him what I knew to be true. Our love would find away just like we had found each other. I shattered in his arms, safe in the knowledge that he would put me back together.

25

Smith

Belle’s lie had unintentionally paved the way for me to easily slip from the house while everyone else was distracted. I thought of the letter and the timing of the meet. Was it a coincidence or did my enemy know every step I took inside my own home? Did she know about the party happening inside my home this evening? She had pictures of me and my family. She’d been in my daughter’s room. She’d watched the footage from the nursery monitor. It was possible she’d chosen the appointment feeling safe in the knowledge that I could get away, unnoticed, while the others pretended to celebrate.

But if she knew that, then she also knew that I wasn’t alone at Thornham. I had guests. Powerful guest. Dangerous guests. Her threats were enough to motivate me to go before she changed her mind about granting me my move. If she slipped away, leaving her trail of bloody breadcrumbs for the authorities, I didn’t know what would happen. Alexander could try to cover it up, but how long would the country tolerate high-handed behavior by the monarchy?

As much as I hated to admit it, there was one more consideration weighing on me.

I needed to see for myself.

I needed to face my ghost.

“Sneaking away from my party, Price?” Georgia’s voice caught me as I stepped out the door. “I’m hurt.”

I paused before tipping my head to the dark night outside. “I’ll be right back.”

I moved to step out, hoping she wouldn’t ask more questions, but Georgia was too shrewd for that. “You’re lying.”

“What am I going to do? Walk until I find the world’s edge and fall off?” Swiveling back to her slowly, I raised my shoulders as if to point out how ridiculous she sounded.

Georgia crossed to me, never taking her eyes off me as she moved. “Where are you really going?”

I didn’t want her to be involved. I didn’t know yet what to expect. I wouldn’t know until I faced her and understood what had happened. Still, Georgia knew me too well to believe I was going out for a breath of fresh air. She wouldn’t drop this, and the last thing I wanted was her to draw attention to my absence. I gestured for her to join me outside.

Night had fallen, the sky a black cloak over the countryside. A plume of smoke rose from the chimney in the living room, filling the crisp air with the smell of woodsmoke. I smiled, knowing Belle and Penny were inside, warm and safe beside it, surrounded by friends.

Georgia sauntered out, narrowed eyes watching me the whole time. Despite the chilly January evening, she showed no sign of discomfort in her thin blouse. “What’s going on?”

“I got a note,” I confessed in a low voice. I took the folded paper from my pocket and handed it to her. “Along with photos taken from inside the house.”

Georgia took a step toward the house where a security light had flipped on after dark. She scanned the letter, interest turning to confusion and finally shock. Her mouth hung open when she looked back up at me. It took a lot to ruffle Georgia Kincaid. If anything could, it would be this.

“It can’t be,” she said, shaking her head.

“Who else, though?” I plucked the letter from her fingers and folded it back up. “I have to go.”