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Her mom stood on one side with her arm wrapped around Rose’s shoulders and her dad stood on the other, a large smile taking over his whole face. Blake stood on her dad’s other side with Grace leaning on his arm in an old-school Hollywood pose that somehow worked for her. Rose could remember the photo being taken – maybe by Christopher? – but had never actually seen it in print.
“I can’t believe you have this,” she said softly as she ran her eyes over her parents. She’d never thought of them as getting older until she saw how young they were in this photo and thought of the new lines in their faces, the gray hairs creeping in as much as her mother tried to cover them up.
Blake held out a cream-colored photo album for her to take, and she couldn’t help her smile at the pawprint emblazoned on the cover in brown. It was hard to imagine Blake commissioning anything so… cute.
“That’s actually his paw print from when he was a puppy.” Blake grinned, and she watched him closely from the corner of her eye as she turned pages. No wonder he’d given in and taken the puppy. Bailey was adorable, all floppy ears and giant paws and eyes too big for his little face.
She turned the page and paused at the next photo, a warmth flashing through her chest that she promptly ignored, and feeling Blake’s eyes on her face, she quickly hurried past. A slow grin formed on his face and she snapped the book shut as she handed it back to him without meeting his eyes. “I’d better go and check on my bath.”
“Of course,” he said mockingly, and she wanted to growl. Men as ripped as David Blake should not be allowed to hold tiny, cute puppies to their naked chest. They also shouldn’t be allowed to be so ridiculously photogenic. It should be illegal.Especiallywhen they were egotistical, cocky asshats.
The bath was full and steaming when she got back to her room and Bailey skidded on the hardwood floors as he tried to sneak into the bathroom.
“No,” she told him sternly and nearly melted at the puppy eyes he sent her. “Fine, but you’renotgetting in.”
Bailey wagged his tail where he sat as she brushed her teeth, his eyes darting to the bath and then back to her as if to check if she was watching him. Blake was an ass, but damn did he have a cute dog.
“Bailey,” she said warningly as he scooted a little closer to the copper tub, his paws grazing the fluffy cream bath mat. He whined, and she wanted to laugh but knew he might take that for permission. “If you’re staying in here, you cannot get into the bath. It’s mine.” He turned his head away as if sulking and she snorted. “You’re almost as spoiled as me, sweetheart.”
She shucked Blake’s tee and unwrapped the bandages on her feet before stepping into the scorching hot water with a sigh of relief and a slight wince. Her feet were better than they were, but the water still stung like a bitch. She’d added in some bubble bath from a tiny bottle in a basket on the countertops that ran the length of the back wall and now everything smelled like mangoes. Bailey trotted over and placed his paws on the rim of the bath and she lifted a hand out of the water and stroked his ears. “Down you get, pup.”
She sat in the bath until she acclimated to the heat and then started to wash away the crazy day – or was it a night?– that she’d had yesterday, rinsing away Blake’s touch and scent as well as the sheer terror. Her breathing quickened as she remembered the knife, the slamming of the stairwell door as the figure had run after her and Maia.
Bailey whined, his head propping under the fingers she’d left hanging over the bath, licking at them when she said nothing, just continued to rasp in harsh breaths that left her dizzy. Was this what dying felt like? This slow climb of terror until your heart gave out? The feeling of suffocating even when you can still breathe?
A splash knocked her from her thoughts and the breath back into her as Bailey dove in the bath, his paws landing half on top of her and she ducked under the water, the last of the suds in her hair streaming out.
“You’re so naughty,” she said as she resurfaced and looked at the drenched puppy sitting opposite her, licking the streams of water on his face. But she gave him a shaky smile, knowing that if he hadn’t jumped in, she might have hyperventilated her way to the bottom of the tub. “Thank you, pup.”
A knock came at the door and Blake’s voice filtered through. “Everything okay? I heard a splash.”
“Bailey jumped in. I’m going to need some extra towels.” Her eyes found the water sloshed across the floor, running slowly to the back of the room. “Um, make that a mop too.”
It was quiet for a minute, and then Rose heard his footsteps leave. Bailey whined, and she smoothed a hand along his wet face as the tread of Blake’s feet sounded outside the door again. “Can I come in?”
Rose stood and wiped her hands down her arms and body, not that dripping all over the floor mattered too much now anyway. She reached for the fluffy towel she’d hung up on one of the little black wall hooks and called for Bailey to get out of the bath, grimacing when he shook himself off and sprayed her with tiny droplets. Stepping carefully out of the bath so she didn’t slip, Rose called out for Blake to come in. The bath mat was soaked under her toes, but the water hadn’t yet cooled, thank god for small mercies.
The door swung open and Blake took in the soaked chaos with a quirked brow. “He jumped in?”
“Yeah, but it was my fault, so don’t punish him.”
He gave her a quizzical look but waved her off. “Go and get dressed, I’ll clear this up. Bailey,no.” The dog paused in the doorway with one paw in the air, clearly intending to head back out into the warm and drip everywhere while he was at it. “Come here,” Blake said, kneeling in the water heedless of his pants as he opened a big towel in his arms, laughing when Bailey ran to him, barking, and Blake began to towel him down.
Rose smiled slightly as she left the room, using the side of her towel to squeeze the water from the ends of her hair before a mild panic hit her as she remembered she had no clothes to wear, moisturizer to use, not even a hairbrush.
“Blake–” she called, realizing she was going to have to borrow something of his, or maybe Cara’s, but he answered before she could even speak.
“Cara dropped off some stuff for you, it's on the island in the kitchen.”
A relieved breath flew out of her. “Thank you.” She wrapped her towel more firmly around herself and headed down the stairs to the kitchen, spotting the plethora of bags from the doorway and relaxing. She was still stuck here, but at least she had her stuff now. An envelope sat on the table too, shoved off to the side like the bags had swept it away, and her hand paused as she reached for a bag when she saw it was her name written on the envelope in a careful cursive.Rose.
Curious, she put down the bag she’d been about to rummage through and instead picked it up, smiling at the ceiling as she heard Bailey finally break free from the bathroom and Blake cursing up a storm. The seal was broken already, the flap sticking up and slightly creased, and Rose frowned. Had Blake opened her mail? Or had it been the security guard? It would make sense that they were checking everything that came into the house. She wondered how long it must have taken for them to painstakingly search all of Cara’s bags and stifled a snicker.
It wasn’t funny really, but what would they possibly be looking for inside a bag of face creams and perfumes?
Rose slid the contents of the envelope out and dropped it like it burned at the first glimpse. It was a photo. Her and Blake outsideThe Harton Thursday morning. She was stood next to his car and his hand was hovering next to her face in the instant before he’d dropped it and opted not to touch her. The way their heads were tilted towards each other made this moment look more intimate than it really had been, hell, it madethemlook more intimate than they were. Sure, they’d had sex, and maybe that familiarity could translate for the camera, but the reality was that they rubbed each other the wrong way. Always had. There was nothing between them but history and maybe some awkward and unwanted attraction.
Who had taken this? And why? She could only think of one person and her hands grew clammy at the thought of them there, watching her when she’d thought she was safe. But then she remembered that prickly feeling she’d had in the car and shivered. He’d been watching her even then.
