Page 6 of Cross Me

“I love you, too. Look, we’re almost there. Make sure you call Edward. I know he’s wondering,” I reminded her. Edward, my husband’s brother and our mutual best friend, had begun his own bump watch since Belle had discovered she was expecting over the holidays.

“He’s on his honeymoon.” She was stalling, creating excuses so she wouldn’t have to face the doctor.

“Well, you shouldn’t have told him then,” I teased her.

“Obviously, I have no self-control when it comes to secrets.”

I paused, momentarily uncertain how to respond. We’d both kept secrets from each other over the last few years. This was different, though. She needed to see that. “Happy news shouldn’t be kept secret.”

“I just need a little longer to get used to the idea,” she admitted.

That was something I could relate to. “Promise to call me.”

“I will. I better go before Smith takes a battering ram to the door. He’s even more unbearably protective now. Talk later.”

The call ended and I dropped the phone into my lap, my mind on my best friend. I wished I could be there with her. I wished that I had known the right thing to say to comfort her. I wished Belle wasn’t scared at all. Belle had been by my side during my first sonogram when Alexander couldn’t be. I felt like I was letting her down with my absence. With more and more demands on my time, I felt that way a lot lately.

But our lives were different now, and I reminded myself Smith would be by Belle’s side for the entire appointment. That wasn’t what was really bothering me, though. I had yet to tell my best friends about my own pregnancy. After Belle’s miscarriage, I’d always worried about what would happen when one of us got pregnant again. If I did and Belle didn’t? How could I comfort her? How could she stand to be around me? I didn’t want to lose her. That was the real reason I’d made Alexander promise to keep it a secret.

Then again, I hadn’t even seen a doctor yet. We’d been out of town when I’d realized I was pregnant and I’d put it off when we came home. There were patronages to catch up on and emails that needed a response. The baby wouldn’t be here for months. It was silly to stress about it. Still, it wasn’t as if I could hide what was happening to my own body much longer. Every day since my wedding—and a little bit before that—photographers had taken photos of me, posting them to tabloid websites that speculated on the size of my stomach. It had taken me a long time to get used to it, especially given the eating disorder I’d battled since my teen years. Most of the time I felt perfectly healthy, no doubt owing to Alexander’s unconditional love. However, it was a little harder to maintain mental peace and self-care when people noticed if I was bloated from eating too much pizza.

Now I had another reason to worry about the gossip rags. I definitely didn’t want Belle to find out that way. The sooner my best friend got the good news that I was praying she would, the better. I couldn’t even consider the other outcome.

“Everything okay?” Brex watched me from the rear view mirror, his warm brown eyes filled with concern. Of course, he’d been listening. It was his job to know everything going on around him. It didn’t change how strange it was to know how few of my conversations were private anymore. Sometimes even when I was alone, it felt like the walls were watching me. I supposed it was normal. I had traded an average life to be married to one of the most powerful men in the world. I just wished it were different. At least Norris pretended he didn’t overhear personal matters.

“Everything is fine,” I reassured him.

“How is Belle?” Georgia twisted in her seat, her glossy, black hair swinging over her shoulder like a shampoo commercial. Once again, I wondered why she’d had to come along. Given the sordid past she shared with my husband—a dark mark on Alexander’s history that we rarely talked about—no one could blame me for not wanting the woman around. The fact she was gorgeous and confident and a former assassin only made matters worse.

“Why do you care?” I snapped, instantly feeling regret. Given my wildly swinging hormones, it was a little harder to remind myself not to jump to conclusions.

“She is married to my oldest friend.” Georgia’s scarlet-painted lips twisted into a pained smile. It seemed like she was trying to be friendly and finding it rather difficult.

I forced myself to do the same. There was no need to add any more tension to the car. Brex and Georgia had enough simmering between them.

“She was just checking in.” Regardless of Georgia’s intentions, it wasn’t my place to spill my best friend’s news, especially given Georgia’s relationship with Smith. He’d probably want to tell her himself. It was strange knowing that these two people I knew so very little about—Smith and Georgia— had such deep connections to the most important people in my life.

Her dark eyes scanned me for a moment as if she didn’t believe a word I was saying. But if she wanted to challenge me, she thought better of it. She turned in her seat and began to bicker with Brex over the radio. So it was back to this.

“I don’t want it on,” he explained. “I need to hear what’s going on around me.”

That’s why we couldn’t listen to music? Was this going to be my whole life? Was I going to spend every day being driven from place to place in total silence while everyone around me worried that any moment someone might jump out and grab me? It was a bit much to swallow. Alexander had warned me.

It was hard to believe that only a few years ago I was just a university student trying to dodge being set up on a blind date with Belle’s older brother. Instead, that day had brought Alexander and his complicated world into my life. I wouldn’t trade him nor any of it. Not for freedom. Not to be able to listen to radio stations. Not for a life without bodyguards overhearing my phone calls. I wouldn’t give him up for anything.

I only wished Alexander would relax a little. There had been no security incidents I knew of for months now. They had even arrested someone recently in conjunction with his father’s assassination. But my husband had a long memory. I knew that from how he held onto grudges that stretched to a time before I knew him. He held on to control even more tightly. Even my presence at the symposium today had gone unannounced—a decision from the security team. The council had rolled with it, deciding to make it a surprise. It was a tip of the hat to my life before I’d married the King of England, to back when I’d worked on charity campaigns.

Georgia’s voice pitched up an octave and I did my best to block out the now heated argument coming from the front of the SUV. Picking up my phone, I began to scroll through the headlines. I liked to think it was part of my job to be up on current affairs, even if I didn’t want to listen to the news in the bathroom. More and more, though, it felt like it was just part of Alexander’s job. At one time, I’d expected to talk about treaties and legislation and the rising cost of oil, amongst other things. Instead, I had spent the last year tucked safely behind castle walls with our daughter. I reminded myself that I wouldn’t trade anything for my family. No matter how frustrating I found my position at times.

I paused and tapped on a story about the upcoming Sovereign Games. It had been a few years since the UK had hosted the national sporting event. I hadn’t thought about it in ages. My world had been different then. I’d only had a passing interest in the games. Now I saw them in a whole new light. Skimming the article sparked a few things I didn’t recall. The games had been an initiative introduced by King Albert. According to the story, there had been a lot of speculation as to whether or not Alexander would continue and step into the role of host. But what had really caught my attention was that a member of the Royal family had confirmed the games would proceed. Alexander hadn’t said anything to me about them. Then again, there were a lot of things he didn’t discuss with me lately.

The event, which is an invitation-only competition in a number of popular sports, draws large crowds to various venues throughout Great Britain. Although no invitations have been formally presented, a few names stand out as likely candidates. Among them is Anderson Stone, the 25-year-old racing superstar ranked among the top three competitors in the world. Mr. Stone, if chosen to compete, makes it a safe bet that one of this year’s events will take place at Silverstone.

I skipped the rest of the article. This was why Alexander had been checking racing scores this morning. At the time I’d thought I was going crazy. Never once had he mentioned enjoying car racing. Considering how his sister had died and that he’d avoided driving for years, it had seemed weird. But why wouldn’t he just tell me why he was suddenly interested? It didn’t matter. It wasn’t that he kept the games a secret so much as it was beginning to feel like my life with him was divided down the middle. I loved him. He loved me. We were happy. Neither of us complained about the sex. But then there was another side to our relationship, or rather, another side to Alexander. It seemed as if he had systematically cut me out of the duties and responsibilities I had agreed to take on. There were supposed to be a lot more days like today—days where I was out raising awareness and supporting charity programs. When I tried to do more, to be more active, to take on more of my responsibilities, Alexander stopped me at every turn. I hadn’t minded as much when I was pregnant, or even when our daughter was a baby. It felt more important to stay home then. Now that I was pregnant again less than two years after our first child had been born, I had to face facts. I suspected we would continue to fill more rooms in the castle. We couldn’t keep our hands off each other—and I wanted to have his children. I just didn’t think I should stay home with my feet up waiting for a baby the whole time.

We arrived behind the motorcade. I knew the drill and waited in the car while Brex confirmed security sweeps had taken place. Georgia remained in the car with me, the silence between us saying more than any words we could share. But it wasn’t just the atmosphere in the car. The air felt heavy. Wrong somehow. I didn’t know if it was the presence of Georgia and her stony demeanor or if Alexander had simply infected me with his own brand of paranoia. When Brex opened my car door, I breathed a sigh of relief. Getting out carefully, I arranged my Givenchy coat to cover the tiny baby bump that showed at the right angle, even with my dress’s flowing skirt. If I could keep that secret a little longer…

All around me photographers snapped pictures, rearranging their own bodies in strange ways to get every vantage point possible. I wondered if one of them had caught sight of me adjusting the coat. That would be a subject of gossip. It was ridiculous how obsessed they were with the status of my womb. Brex kept his body close to mine, shielding me as much as possible while Georgia joined and flanked my other side. It never felt quite right to be this close to someone other than Alexander. I would never admit that to my husband. His ego didn’t need the boost. He wouldn’t be able to fit it inside Buckingham Palace if it got any bigger.