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“Make sure that you do,” she said coolly, striding forward and hitting the button for the elevator that dinged, immediately empty and waiting, and for a moment Rose’s focus shifted on to how this would affect business. Though really this was all down to her parents, Rose couldn't help her concern. When her parents were worried, she worried for them.
“Where will I be able to reach you for the time being, Ms DuLoe?”
Blake’s eyes had never felt heavier on her than in that moment, weighing her, assessing to see what she would say next, like it would determine their fate.
“I have the unfortunate displeasure of Mr Blake’s company for the foreseeable future.” The satisfied smirk that crossed his face was there and gone so fast, Rose wasn’t sure if she’d imagined it. Why would Blake be pleased at all about this arrangement?
“That’s very generous.” Louis looked moments away from swooning and Rose rolled her eyes. God, if this got out to the press… her and Blake holed up together…
“I really amsogenerous. Wouldn’t you agree, princess?”
The heated look in Blake’s eyes was impossible to miss and irritation fell swiftly onto her. She’d been kicked out of her home, chased, and was now likely to have a PR crisis once this got out, and he thought now was the time to wind her up?
“I don’t know if I’d go that far,” she settled on, sticking her foot onto the metal separating the elevator and the suite so the doors wouldn’t close and, despite everything, wanting to grin at the frown that Blake couldn’t quite hide.
“Okay,” Jones said slowly. “Well, if you think of anything else or need to get in touch, you can do so on this number.” He handed Blake a card and shook his hand and Rose wasn’t sure whether to laugh or scream as she strode forward and plucked it from his hand.
“Don’t worry, Detective, I’m certain my pretty little head won’t misplace this. Blake doesn’t need to hold on to it for me.” Rose’s smile was nothing short of sharp, and Jones’ eyes flitted around the room as he cleared his throat.
“Ah, right, yes. Of course. Well…” He pointed off in the direction of a group of cops and beat a hasty retreat while she glared daggers at him.
“Take me home,” she demanded of Blake, spinning to get inside the elevator again.
“Please,” Blake countered and she snorted.
“You’re right, I do love it when you beg for me.”
Noah stepped into the elevator, maneuvering in between them as he pressed the button to go downstairs. “Thought it best that someone be here with you both to ensure we don’t have another violent crime on our hands in the next few minutes.”
“That would require the princess to actually get her hands dirty,” Blake ground out.
“For you, Blake, I’d make an exception.” She pushed her shoulders back and stared straight ahead, opting to pretend he didn’t exist.
“Yes, I’ve noticed you’re selective in your hatred for me. Is it a setting thing? Get you in a study or a bathroom–”
“Temporary losses of sanity,” she hissed, her head whipping around so she could glare fully at him past Noah’s profile.
Blake glared back. “How convenient.”
Silence reigned thick and heavy until Noah was shifting uncomfortably between them and Rose’s fingers beat out an unsteady rhythm on her arm as the elevator seemed to move too slowly between floors. Suddenly the silence was oppressive, her attention narrowing into her shallow breaths and sweaty palms.
Her vision blurred for a moment, her heart pounding too fast as she tried to focus on the numbers of the floors, but instead could only see a dark hood and the gleam of a blade. Hands were on her shoulders, fingers pressing in hard, but Rose was so numb she couldn’t feel the pain. A deep voice called her name and she blinked, shocked to find Blake’s face breaths away from her own. Her eyes flicked to Noah, who had moved out of the way and watched them from the back of the elevator with concern flickering in his eyes as her body trembled all over.
“We shouldn’t have come back here,” she could hear Blake saying, but it was like a delay between the movements of his mouth and the words reaching her ears. “Rose, Rose, focus on me…”
She couldn’t, tried to wrangle her emotions back, tried to lock them down tight until she could just get out of this damned elevator, but they were like a wave dragging her under. She hadn’t had a panic attack since she was eighteen and it just about killed her that Blake, of all people, was here witnessing the deterioration of her walls nearly eight years later.
A hot mouth pressed to hers, the warmth stealing her breath, the electricity igniting her bones and Rose gasped in a breath, the dark spots fading from her vision as she did so. Blake murmured nonsense against her lips, words she couldn’t make out before his tongue was in her mouth and his hands were in her hair, warm body crushing hers like he could hold her together himself.
Two dings marked their descent as they grew closer to their floor and it was like the sound was an alarm, making her push back, her hand cracking across Blake’s cheek so harshly that an immediate stab of regret shocked her. He stumbled away, pressing a hand to one perfectly tanned cheekbone, but there was no hurt in his eyes when he looked at her.
“Good, you’re okay.”
She stared at him for a moment longer before giving him a stiff nod and avoiding Noah’s gaze altogether. She could feel the warmth of her skin where Blake’s early morning stubble had pricked her and knew her hair was probably a disaster. All she could really hope for now was that Noah kept his mouth shut and that the press wasn’t already outside ready to capture this moment.
“Make me a list,” Blake said, and she focused back into reality once more.
“Of what?” The elevator dinged as they reached the first floor and Blake moved close to her side, like he wasn’t sure what was out there but would protect her nonetheless. It was surprisingly… chivalrous.
