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ChapterEighteen
“You know you’re going to have to talk to him at some point, right?” Maia fluffed her hair in the mirror hanging on the wall in the foyer as Rose finished lacing up her strappy silver heels.
“Why’s that?” she asked, and Maia frowned disapprovingly until Rose sighed. “I’m grateful for what he did–”
“The man took a bullet for you!”
“Keep your voicedown,” Rose gritted out, glancing around to make sure her mother hadn’t heard. It was bad enough listening to her crow about Blake’s heroic feats constantly, but to have Maia doing it too? Rose’s mother needed no encouragement. “So, what? I owe him now?”
“That’s not what I’m saying and you know it.” Maia pouted as she slicked on a pretty pink gloss that popped against her dark skin.
“Whatever, I’m going to his stupid gala because I organized it. I can’t really mix booze with my anxiety meds, so the free bar isn’t worth staying for.”
Maia sighed but wisely shut up when Rose’s mom swanned into the room on a cloud of blue organza. “Going to snag yourself a hot date, Mom?”
“Well, I will be if Graham doesn’t get his sweet behind down those stairs pronto,” she called overly loudly, and Rose couldn’t help but smile as her dad called down from upstairs.
“Gross,” she said affectionately, pressing a kiss to her mom’s cheek. “We’ll see you there.”
“You are not leaving this house until I get a photo of you both!”
They left the house twenty minutes later, cheeks aching from holding their smiles in place for so long while her mom darted around grabbing photos from various angles.
“Got to give her props,” Maia said once they were safely in the car and her phone started blowing up as Annabel sent over all the photos, “your mom knows how to handle her lighting.”
Rose laughed. It had been nice spending some more time with her mom and dad the last two weeks while she stayed with them. The suite was still being repaired and cleared by the cops for release, but even if it wasn’t, she wasn’t sure that she wanted to go back. When it was late at night, she often found herself missing the quiet of another home, missing the soft click of claws on wood, even missed–
“Wow,” Maia said as they pulled up to a familiar set of gates and found them covered in fairy lights. The house was lit up and Rose felt an odd pang in her chest as she looked up at the window overlooking the driveway. Blake’s room.
The party was in full swing by the time they arrived, fashionably late but not rude. The charity auction hadn’t yet started, and despite what she’d told Maia, Rose found herself reaching for a glass of champagne as a waiter passed by. One drink wouldn’t hurt, after all, and she’d picked out this brand. It was the really good stuff.
People heading in stared as soon as they walked in through the door and made their way to the ballroom. She wished it was because her rose-gold dress was beautiful or because Maia had styled her hair to perfection, but it was something far simpler than admiration – it was awe. Gossip. Like she was a living legend. Because how did a girl like that – blonde? Tall? Rich? – take down a man twice her size? Well, they all knew the answer to that too. In fact, she knew he’d spotted her walk in when a ripple of heads seemed to split down the middle, half watching Rose and the others watching Blake.
She quickly moved in the other direction, the strange feeling of both belonging and being the odd one out prevailing as she swept through the room. It was weird being back here, and she wasn’t sure that she’d ever be able to go into the kitchen and not see bloodstains on the floor, even if they had likely already been cleaned up.
She’d woken up in hospital three weeks ago with Noah and her mother at her side. It had been him who had shot Tom before he could kill her – he’d come after all, and Rose had been supremely grateful. She’d actually hired him to be her full-time guard, having now experienced one of the worst-case scenarios personally, it didn’t seem so laughable anymore. She’d given him the evening off today, knowing that the gala would have plenty of security. The cops had been all but useless, as predicted, and the list of people she was actively suing had grown unnervingly large.
“I tried to come and see you,” a low voice said in her ear as she lurked by the buffet table, making sure everything that was supposed to be there had arrived. Her team was impeccable, but everyone made mistakes sometimes.
“That’s nice,” she said vaguely and could practically feel the wave of annoyance coming off of Blake at her reply.
“My shoulder’s healing well,” he tried again. “It was through and through, and I was lucky enough that it didn’t damage the muscle too badly.”
“I’m glad,” she replied, eyes on the room as they all watched her.
“So, luckily for you, that means I can dance tonight.” Her reply was cut off in a yelp as Blake snagged her around the waist and tugged her into the middle of the room. There was a band in the corner playing something bland, but they slunk into a waltz as Blake steered her around the room.
“Whatare you doing?” She pasted on a smile and spat the words at him through her teeth and Blake grinned, knocking the breath out of her as she saw him up close for the first time in weeks.
“Oh, so youcanlook at me when you talk. Excellent. I mean, I did nearly die for you.”
The words sent a fiery hot rage tunneling through her and she narrowed her eyes. “Of course I can look at you. I’d just prefer not to.”
His smile faded, but one dimple remained as the muscle in his jaw flexed. “Really, princess? After everything? You still hate my guts?”
Rose clenched her jaw as she looked past his head and out at the crowd, frowning at a smirking Maia as they breezed past on a turn.
“Or maybe what you’re feeling is the opposite of hate,” he whispered in her ear, his warm breath stirring the small tendrils of hair there and making her shiver. Lips ghosted over her neck, and she pulled back with a stab of irritation and desire.
