Page 75 of X: Command Me through Alexander’s Eyes

“You’re quiet,” I say, after a few minutes of silence stretch between us.

She looks at me, a flame burning in her eyes. She blinks, and it extinguishes, but the ember remains. “Actually, I’m tired.”

That’s my fault.

“I feel like I should apologize for keeping you up half the night,” I say, pulling her to me and kissing the top of her head, “but I’m not sorry.”

She smiles at my blatant cockiness. “And I won’t be getting any sleep tonight either.”

“Hot date?” I ask.

“The hottest.”

“Anyone I know?” My palm skims from the small of her back to her hips.

“I would say you’re on intimate terms.” She blows me a kiss that’s more provocation than affection.

“You need to rest.” I resist the siren call of that innocent gesture. “I’m sending you home alone tonight.”

Her throat slides. “But I owe you sexual favors.”

“And what did I do to deserve that, poppet?” What did I do to deserve her? “Tell me so I can do it again.”

“You might not be saying that after dinner.” There’s resignation in her voice as she reaches for the restaurant door. I grab her hand and pull her back to me.

I trace a line down her profile, over her lips, and pause there. “Have a little faith. I can be quite charming when the situation requires it. I am a prince, after all.”

“Prince Charming, huh? I don’t remember him having a dirty mouth and an insatiable sex drive.”

“He kissed the wrong girl,” I whisper, angling my face for one last kiss before we face her family. “Or maybe ‘happily ever after’ is only code for multiple orgasms.”

“The Brothers Grimm have nothing on you.” Her tone is playful, but there’s something thick hiding behind her words.

I feel it, too. That’s why I play along and wink at her. “Wait until I tell you my theories about riding off into the sunset.”

“Behave.” She smacks my shoulder lightly.

“I love it when you get riled up. It makes me think of spanking your pretty, little ass.” It’s out of my mouth before I can stop it. I’d told her I wouldn’t—that I didn’t need to possess her like that. Before I can gauge her response, an amused voice interrupts us.

“Well, well, well. Can I get in before he mounts you on the spot?”

Clara looks over my shoulder, going slightly rigid in my arms. She pulls free as a woman with dark hair strides over and sticks out her hand.

I look from her to Clara, unable to miss the obvious resemblance.

“Alexander, this is my sister, Lola.” Clara forces a smile. “Lola, allow me to introduce—”

“Oh, I don’t think that’s necessary.” Lola doesn’t shake my hand. She holds it for a moment as if taking a measure of me. “It’s lovely to meet you. Clara has told me absolutely nothing about you.”

I resist the urge to tell her Clara hasn’t spoken of her either. I know she has a sister. That’s come up in my research. Charlotte Bishop. Lola, it seems. But despite their similar features, there’s something feline about Clara’s sister. She looks not only prepared to pounce, but I suspect she might have claws.

Before she can show them, I step toward the door. “Ladies first.”

“Ohh. A gentleman.” Lola steps through first without hesitation. Her eyes skate over me, assessing. There’s something abrasively American about her, despite having been here from an earlier age than Clara.

“She seems like a…handful,” I mutter as I take Clara’s hand.

“Mmhmm.” Her hand tightens over mine, and I realize I’m not the only one with family drama. Glancing down at Clara, I realize with surprise that she’s not nervous.