Alexander’s POV
She let up her eyes, it’s just a little bit wet. Don’t cry Angel. I hate that too. She’s nibbling on her lips again, her unintentional seductive jab. Stop nibbling angel. Do you have any idea the damage you’re causing, the trouble you’re calling? “I have…a lot of concerns” A bit of struggle in her tone. “Oh…Please share” I shrug, unmoved. She swallows. Her lips move first, exposing red tongue. Crimson red like she had just had a lollipop . Damn, the things I could do with it. “Number 1” Her soft voice interrupts my mind savagery. Masking my dirty thoughts, I anchor my devouring gaze on her. “Yes” Waiting. “No expectations of companionship?” Her eyes take mine, gauging them. “Yes” I rasp, almost flipping. Her eyes fall again. “No expectations of romance?” They snap, nearly bulging out, her voice trips. “Yes” I rasp again, ignoring her fast shifting emotions. “No expectations of passion…no expectations of loyalty…you could keep a concubine and I am not to complain?” Her sardonic chuckle, her words hitting like bars, her eyes shifting from the document to my face, she’s terrified, almost petrified. “Yes Yes and Yes” I roll in frostily. Oh Angel, I guess I have broken your heart. “Can I take a concubine too?” She shot at me, sea blue eyes tackling me. Jaw drops, a low grunt. Damn Angel, what would you need a concubine for? Angels don’t have cravings. No flare for the carnal, just dull and boring. “Not in the Clifford Estate, you absolutely cannot…but I definitely will not consume my thoughts with what you do with your time” I rasp, starving her of emotions. She shrunk, sadness flushing her skin. Poor Angel, this demon has broken your heart. “So if you don’t need all the things a wife can provide, why even bother?…what’s my purpose in this marriage?” “Oh you haven’t read the crucial part?” My eyes nudge her back to the document, her eyes falling along with mine, they scroll downwards and tremble, her chin falls, oh poor angsty angel. I rapt in. “The Clifford lineage has dwindled down to me and as such I must take action….produce more Clifford heirs…that’s your purpose” Slowly, she lets up her eyes. “Procreation…that’s it?” Her eyes tackling mine. Mine, taking hers, fierce, resolute, unyielding, unwavering. “Yes Angel, I will not offer you companionship, I will not offer romance, I will not offer passion…Love does not exist here. It will never exist here. I want heirs, you birth me heirs…that’s it” My voice coursing. Her fingers clawed the table. “And why on God’s Oxygen earth would I agree to something so selfishly designed… so wickedly crafted…incredibly insulting?, It’s total nonsense” She flipped, her eyes shooting daggers, jaw clenched, cheeks hot red, an angel in her fury. What shall this demon do? “Compose yourself, Miss. Catherine” I caution, a firm clam on the table. She clammed back. “You compose yourself Mr. Clifford. What do you think me to be? A desperate lay about? A miserable cast aside? your brother’s left over?” Her sardonic chuckle again, her eyes burning, her voice charging loudly. Damn, she had a mouth on her. I stood, towering over her, a nasty, carping angel. Unexpected. My eyes seized hers, blank as bullets, her eyes hanging over mine. I splurge. “If you do not accept, Simon will get you on a plane this instant and you head back home immediately, forget you ever met me…forget the day you laid eyes on this demon, forget the total nonsense contract…” I pause, summoning my decades-old intimidating, penetrating gaze, designed to wear walls down. “But you must decide now; for I cannot waste any more time on trivial matters such as this” Her eyes debating, her lip curving into her teeth, digging, Stop it Angel, take your lip out of your mouth, don’t let me make you. My palms twitch, I manage to stall them. Collect yourself Alex. Stay focused, stay hard, set the angel straight. Be done with her. “So what’s it gonna be, Angel?” I hold her terrified blue eyes.Catherine’s POV His sand brown hair settled perfectly in a classic side part; soft and sleek, well-groomed, slightly darker brows and trimmed lashes that matched his short stubble beards. Sparse freckles lined his under eyes, nose straight and pointed, thin lips sliced to form a dominant smile,exposing snow white teeth; His broad arms spread in his Oxford suit and tapered pants cuddled his firm calves, Damn, he looked delicious; I purred, as my eyes paraded the large sized portrait picture of Harry Clifford hanging in the Clifford mansion. A mixture of dominance and sex exuded; just like I pictured in my fantasies; a white fantasy God, perfect for resurrecting my stowed dangerous fantasies and lighting a spark in my pathetically boring life. My teeth dug into my lip, shamelessly tearing at the black cast portrait. Dominic Kent had insisted I marry, he put his foot down and bullied me to submission. He wasn’t in love with the Cliffords, he was in love with the Cliffords money;
Alexander’s POV Harry Clifford, the chosen brother, the best of the Clifford genes, loved, celebrated, doted on, the child everyone wanted and me neglected, ignored, overlooked, not his worthy opponent, not his second, not even his spare but invisible. Harry Clifford, now hanging on the wall, nothing but a fucking portrait on the wall. Obliterated from the world. I blow a huff, digesting the giant portrait of my brother in his favorite place at the Clifford Manor. The boring, dandy, depressing study, an empty room of books and echoes. I often wondered why he loved this place so much and now I wonder what it will be without him. I had taken the next flight out of Spain back to Sussex; leaving Olivia to simmer in the Clifford Manor, until I was well away. We couldn’t have anyone finding out about our affair, especially not fresh after her husband’s death; people would crucify us, Olivia more than me. Not that I cared for people’s gossip but Olivia definitely needed a breather, so be
Alexander’s POV “Are you making this shit up?” I tackle him, walking him over with crude eyes. He shakes his head. “The constitution exists, all three hundred pages of it. I can have it sent up right now” He appears serious. My blood heats up another degree, my veins feel like they could pop out from my skin. Three hundred fucking pages of disaster about to ruin my life. No freaking way. Simon continues amidst the chaos in my head. “And the union has to make a year for it to be acknowledged or you would be removed as Clifford’s forerunner immediately and then Clifford Empire would….” “Shut up…shut up…shut up” I nearly want to bite his head off but he saves himself with a swift retreat. I drag my feet. “This is bullshit…bullshit…bullshit” “Alexander I don’t believe it would be hard to find a happy Mrs. Clifford. There would be at least a thousand offers, you have nothing to worry about” “So what the hell am I supposed to do now?” Now that the fucking constitution has me fuc
Catherine’s POV How could someone be so beautiful? dark eyes glistened under very relaxed black brows. His medium length mid-brown hair tucked behind his ears, slightly parted at its corner. His hawk nose pointed to his thick lips, red, like it had color in it. full, they looked so skilled, like they had done a lot of kissing, perfect for fantasizing. His chiseled jaw hosted his perfectly carved stubble. I imagine running my fingers through. My teeth biting into my lower lip, lusting dangerously. His eyes had a fire, like it was on a hunt, I got the sense it was always that way. My eyes did a full walk over his 6 foot 5 inches of biceps and calves cuddled by a lazy black polo shirt winged by a leather jacket; the kind only bad boys wore. A walking fantasy, a proper fantasy God, I moan inwardly. Catherine Kent! Stop lusting, his brother just died; your intended just died, behave yourself. My eyes fall to his long legs kissed by tight black jeans. Damn I wish I were the pants. I
Alexander’s POV “Is it true?…” Olivia blazes into Harry’s study, wearing a scowl. She crosses her arms over her chest, adjusting her weight on one hip. “You’re really taking a wife? The news is all over the Manor” She ensues, anger flashing in her feline eyes. My eyes cruise her figure, walking up her black, high waisted, split hem mini skirt, her snatched waist holding her tucked shirt and her famous push-up cleavage standing out. Her high cheek bones jut upwards, clenched jaw and burgundy lips pointing forward. Her fuming anger makes her even more inviting, stroking my appetite for her. I already know the reason for her infested mood, Catherine Kent. I draw closer to her. “It’s the fucking Clifford constitution” “And since when does the rebel of Sussex care about a fucking constitution…much less, Clifford’s?” She flares, taking my eyes fiercely. “I don’t… I guess I am just not pathetic enough to let Clifford Empire dissipate into thin air or maybe I just want to piss on A
Alexander’s POV The burial ceremony commenced with hymns from the choir and sermons from the priest. I was seated at the front row seat of the two way funeral arrangement with Arthur’s widow by my side. Partners, friends, dignitaries from all around the world spread out around me. Arthur Clifford was a powerful man and everyone wanted to pay their last respect. Stop! I yell inwardly as sympathetic gawks track me; concoctions of pity, gross care and attention flood my direction. Where were they when I needed them?. No one saw invisible Alexander, until now when my grandfather and beloved brother lay lifeless on the ground, I finally get a little bit of attention. Well guess what? Alexander Clifford does not need it, he outgrew it, he survived without it, he can do without it. Simon was delivering the Eulogy of my grandfather and brother and as I listened, it dawned on me why I refused to deliver it in the first place. I couldn’t speak of a love that I neither showed nor received
Alexander’s POV “Alexander…” A crusty voice calls from behind me. I summarize one felicitation and turn to the other. It’s uncle Richard; Daddy’s younger brother. “Or should I say Rebel of Sussex” His lips slice with a smile. “Uncle Richard” I give a half-suppressed laugh. It’s been a while since I have seen him. My fault anyway. I was mostly a ghost around these parts. “I am so sorry Alexander” He cups a hug, about fifty seconds long. I almost yank him off me but he saves himself, letting me go. “Olivia” He turns to her, a riddled smile slices his lips. She was standing right next to me. “Richard” She releases her rich artificial smile, one that indicates irritation rather than pleasure. Olivia doesn’t like Richard, I gather but I am glad I know nothing of it. I hate drama and I run fast enough from it every single time. “Looking beautiful as always” He takes up her hand and pecks the back of her palm. “I am so sorry for your loss” His derisive undertone, very palpabl
Alexander’s POV “Did your father not teach you not to eye another man while your husband is standing right there in front of you?” I rake, tearing at her vapid blue eyes. Her lips parted and then her eyes fell to the tight grip of my hand on her wrist. I unplug my hand instantly. She rubbed on her tender wrist, her eyes milking mine. Don’t do that Angel; that’s not going to work on me. Answer the fucking question. “Would you rather be in Simon’s bed?” I drill her further, refusing to allow her emotional tantrum work on me. “No” She trembled, a teardrop leaving her right eye. Fucking soft angel, I curse under my breath. “Don’t cry” I command. Her cheeks flush, her jaw tightens, her nostrils flare outward and it is evident that a struggle was going on in her mind. Come on Angel, say what you want to say. “Are you jealous?” She rasps. I scoff and then laugh a little. I actually find it amusing that she would think she could muster the power to make me jealous. “You flatter y