Page 69 of The Brit


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We’re still in our wetsuits after having made a speedy departure from the boatyard, and when we pull up outside my mansion, I’m forced to gently coax Rose from the car when she shows no signs of moving, lost in her trance. I guide her up the steps, rearranging the blanket around her shoulders as we enter. Esther is waiting in the entrance hall, and her face falls into a frown the moment she catches sight of us.

“I’ve got it,” I say, passing her with Rose’s shoulders in my palms, directing her up the stairs. She’s like a zombie. I’m pretty sure she’d drop like a rock if I let go of her.

“Danny?” Brad calls, and I look back, seeing his hands palm-up, facing the ceiling. “Shouldn’t we be getting our asses in the office to discuss?” He’s desperate to offload the fucks he’s held back in the car. He’ll have to wait. I’m cutting him short at every turn recently. The state of my arm, my bruised nose. He’s not got anything out of me, and it’s seriously pissing him off.

I give him a death stare. “Have a drink ready for me.” I keep moving, just catching the shake of his head as I turn. Fuck him. I couldn’t leave her if I wanted to.

I don’t question why I stop short of her suite. One whole room short. I open my bedroom door and negotiate her inside, kicking the door closed behind me before walking her to the bed. I strip her out of the wetsuit until she stands only in her underwear, her back to me, and then remove my own, watching her motionless body as I do. I frown when I turn her around to find glassy, empty eyes. I miss the fire in them already. Cupping her cheeks with my hands, I pull her face up to mine. She looks straight through me.

“Rose?” I jiggle her, starting to worry. Should I call a doctor and have her checked out? It’s like shock has paralyzed her. I get no response, the pupils of her eyes huge. I just need her to tell me she’s okay. Desperation has my lips falling to hers, my kiss firm but chaste. I pull away and see it. The spark of life in her eyes. So I kiss her again. Once more, firm and chaste, pulling away to search out the flames. They’re there, burning in the back of her blue stare.

The blacks of her pupils shrink, and she blinks, focusing on me. And I kiss her again. This time, I linger for a few seconds, feeling her body firming up against me. And I hear a little whimper. But her hands remain dead by her sides.

“No.” She steps away, dropping her gaze to our bare feet. “You shouldn’t kiss me.”

I’m not the kind of man that gets confused. My life is too clean-cut. There’s no room for misunderstandings. So now, I’m a little stumped. “Why?”

“You just shouldn’t.” She makes to turn, but I grab her wrist, stopping her. There’s no question that I should let her leave, but an odd sense of entitlement wants an explanation. There’s a simple one, of course. She nearly died, but fear isn’t something that goes hand in hand with Rose. She’s made that obvious from day one, so what’s changed? “Let me go.” She’s begging. It makes me more suspicious.

“No,” I reply, no anger or frustration entering my tone. It’s just a simple no.

Looking up at me, she fights to control her wobbling lip. “You need to send me away, Danny.”

“Fuck, no.” I laugh, but nowhere near amusement. “You forget why you’re here, Rose.”

“Yes,” she yells, violently snatching her arm out of my hold. “Yes, I have forgotten. So remind me.” Her palm is sailing toward my face before I register she’s moved, and though I still have time to avoid her aim, I don’t. I let her slap my face with force, her anger fueling the power. I know what she’s doing. She wants me to hit her back. To remind her. I don’t hit her. Won’t. But I do take her neck lightly and back her up to the nearest wall. I’m angry, yes, but not because she’s slapped me. I’m fucking mad because she’s backtracking. I finally gave in, and now she’s taking it away. I won’t fucking let her.

I thrust her back into the wall and flex my fingers around her throat, pushing my face up to hers. My snarl is very real. My blood is very hot. I can feel her swallows against my palm, her face tight with indignation. I spin her around and push her front forward into the wall, holding her by the back of her neck with one hand, sliding my thumb into the edge of her knickers with the other. She inhales sharply but doesn’t fight me off.

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