Page 73 of X: Command Me through Alexander’s Eyes

“Is something wrong?” I ask, replaying the last few minutes and looking for clues. I’d been polite. I’d agreed to dinner. “Did I do something to upset you?”

She swallows, shaking her head. “Nope. I just don’t deserve you, X.”

“You don’t.” She’s not wrong about that. “No one deserves to put up with me.”

Her finger presses to my lips, her blue eyes growing sad. “Don’t say that.”

“Where did you come from?” I ask softly. “Who sent you to save me?”

Clara’s eyes pierce through me, and then her mouth is on mine. I don’t think. I react. I press against her, urging her leg up to coil around me. I can feel her damp heat against my groin, earning the attention of my cock. It takes more than a little effort to pull away and remind her that we have other places to be.

“You have to get to work,” I whisper, unable to resist tempting her to change her mind. My own plans for today can wait. “Unless…”

Her tongue flicks over her lips. “Unless?”

“You want to call in sick and let me show you what a good boyfriend I can be.”

She takes a deep breath. “Sorry, X. I can’t play hooky on my third day of work.”

I let her go slowly, knowing that she has a real-life to return to. I can’t cage her like I’ve been caged no matter how much I may want to.

“Tonight,” I tell her.

“Tonight,” she repeats.

My mobile rings as soon as I step out the back entrance. Norris is there, waiting by the Bentley.

“Yes?” I answer.

“I assume you’re with her,” my father says distastefully.

“What do you need?” I bypass his slight. I don’t need my good mood ruined by him.

“I assume you’re coming to the country this weekend. I wanted to be certain you didn’t try to back out of it.”

“I’ll be there,” I confirm, sliding into the car.

“Good. You need to get out of the city,” he says pointedly.

And away from her. I know what he’s thinking. “Clara will be there, too.”

“Alexander, I don’t—”

I hang up on him and smile.

“Home?” Norris asks me.

“Where’s that?” I murmur absently. My home isn’t ahead of me. It’s behind me with her.

“I’m sorry?” he prompts.

“Yes,” I say so he can hear, staring out the window as we merge into the morning traffic. “Take me home. I have a note to write.”