Page 28 of Cross Me

Norris flinched slightly at the barb. I understood what he was on about. It wasn’t Anderson’s fault my father had kept this dirty secret for years. Anderson himself didn’t even know.

“If someone knew, the press would,” Norris said. He hadn’t budged from his spot by the door even as I continued to track across the room and back again.

“That’s comforting,” I muttered, rubbing my neck. I’d probably strained it checking the clock every other second.

“We were always going to have to contend with the fact that your brother is growing quite famous,” Norris began.

“Yes, we were,” I allowed. “I didn’t expect to send my wife to contend with it though.”

“May I ask…” he trailed off significantly.

I told Norris everything—eventually. It hadn’t seemed important until today that Clara wasn’t in on the particulars of this situation. “No, she doesn’t know. I mean, she knows I found out I have a brother. I didn’t think I needed to tell her who it was.”

Norris’s eyebrows shot up, but he did a good job rearranging his face back to a normal state as quickly as possible. “And why is that?”

“Are you my bodyguard or my therapist?” I snapped.

“Sometimes, it feels like I’m a bit of both,” he said evenly, and a wave of guilt swept over me. Norris didn’t dwell on the slight. “I think we’re dealing with an unusual set of circumstances and nothing more. There’s no intelligence to suggest that this is anything more than Anderson Stone, a rising star in the racing world, receiving an invitation from the crown to participate in an international charity event. You need to accept that.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Then I suggest you tell your wife the truth—the whole truth,” he amended quickly.

I sighed and crossed to the mantle, where a number of framed family portraits smiled back at me. Clara was in each one: holding Elizabeth, carrying a rose outside the London Eye, smiling next to a Christmas tree. She was the common denominator of not only the photos, but every memory I cherished. Hell, of every breath I took. But it wasn’t just Clara. It was a radiant, full-of-life Clara. I’d seen less and less of her over the last few weeks. It might even have been months. I tried to fool myself, writing off the change in her mood as early pregnancy. But that was a lie.

Edward said I was crushing her. Was that all I could offer her—a love that broke her? Every time I tried to trust that everything would be okay, life seemed to send me a warning sign.

I needed to know more about Anderson. I needed to know why he had been chosen. I’d heard he was a gifted racer. I’d been following his career since Brexton had uncovered who he was. Part of me had cheered him on, but I’d kept my distance. It was safer—for both of us. All of that cautious interest had vanished, replaced now by a creeping sense of dread. Nothing in my life was a coincidence; I had learned that the hard way.

“Maybe I should tell her,” I admitted, “but I need to know more first. I want you to look into this. Find out who’s in charge of the invitation list.”

Norris opened his mouth as if he was going to respond when Clara flew into the room, dropping her bag at the door.

Her cheeks were rosy, her neck still wrapped tightly in a scarf, and her perfect body hidden under too many layers for my taste. She rushed to me, throwing herself in my arms and kissing me hungrily. Pulling back, she let out a giggle when she saw that Norris was here.

“Oops! Sorry, Norris.” But she didn’t move away from my arms.

The tightness in my chest relaxed as I held her. I plucked her scarf, drawing it away from her face to discover it wasn’t just her cheeks that were glowing. She was luminous, lit from within with the happiness that I hadn’t seen for a long time.

“Today went well?” I couldn’t stop myself from checking my watch.

“I’m sorry. I know I’m later than I thought I would be. Belle and I were talking in the car. I should’ve called you.” Her explanations came out in a rush, and I realized this was what I had brought her to. She lived in a constant state of apology. I had known where she was. I was in contact with her security team. She had been having fun and that had changed the moment she came home to me.

“I knew when to expect you,” I told her. “Brex let me know.”

She peeked at that me through her full, black lashes hopefully. “Then you aren’t mad?”

“What would I have to be mad about?” I pulled her to me, wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and pressed a kiss to her forehead. Behind her, Norris didn’t say a word. He considered us a moment, an expectant look on his face. I shook my head slightly. Now wasn’t the time to tell her. I would. Later. I willed him to understand.

He tipped his head to indicate he’d gotten the message, but he didn’t look at me as he excused himself. “I’ll take my leave.”

Clara glanced over her shoulder as the door closed.

“I think I scared him off,” she whispered.

“He knows we need some alone time,” I said.

“You have been working awfully late,” she accused.