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“And what do I tell Callum?” she asked, practically.
“I don’t know,” I said plainly, then flicked my thumb to indicate the woman I left behind the closed door. “But take care of this woman.”
“If she’s my cousin,” Lea said, staring at the lock of hair. “If she’s Tito Leopold’s daughter, then I’ll protect her like my own family.” A small smile graced her lips. “I’ll protect her because sheisfamily.”
I hugged my friend, and she was surprised by it. She didn’t hug me back for several minutes.
“Take care of yourself as well,” I whispered. “And Callum. And everyone else. Don’t let Hugo get into trouble.”
“Are you dying?” she asked sarcastically. But when I didn’t answer her, she put her arms around my back. “You’re not going to tell us what you’re doing, are you?”
I laughed. “Right.”
I kissed her cheek and walked away. I couldn’t look back. If I did, I’d slip past Lea, run back into that room, into that bed, and spirit my woman away. Lock her in a tower where only I had the key. Where I could keep her all to myself. But that wasn’t possible.
I had to close this chapter of my life and start a new one. For my Rose Marie.
Chapter 37
Rose
Iwokeupinthe same room. His room.
We had made love on a bed. His bed. And itwasmaking love. Not fucking.
He was gentle, and sweet. I had no new bruises, and I hadn’t demeaned myself for his pleasure.
My legs were clean, the blanket and duvet tucked under my chin. He had done some aftercare. That made me smile.
I rolled over, hoping to find him beside me, but the bed was empty. On his pillow was a stack of papers. I reached for them, and it was all sheet music. Was it the piece he was playing yesterday?
On the first page, his cursive, aggressive script wrote:
“You’re mine, little Rose. It will be official.”
I must have read that over and over again. What the hell was that supposed to mean?
I sat up, the duvet falling from my body. I realized I was still completely naked. Light filtered in from the gossamer curtains. The balcony doors were closed now, keeping out the scent of roses that Alastair seemed to love.
I showered. There were clothes on the bathroom counter. My clothes. Jeans, a long sleeve Henley, and black panty and sports bra.
Was he always this thoughtful?
I wanted to go through each one of our interactions. The man I made love to-and it was making love, wasn’t it?- wasn’t the same one from before. Right? Or was he just showing me a different side of himself?
I took the time to smell his cologne. It was leathery, with the sweetness of cigars, old books, and parchment. Just like him. Maybe that was sandalwood? I didn’t know. The black and gray tiles gave an old gothic look to the bathroom, but the pristine white lines and in-laid lights still had that modern feel. A strange juxtaposition, like the man himself.
I toweled off with his dark gray towel. I wrapped my long hair in a towel and put it on top of my head.
Should I wait? Should I hang out here until he comes back?
The rumbling in my tummy made my decision for me. I dressed and walked out down the hallway. My feet were cold on the marble steps, as I snuck into the kitchen that, frankly, belonged in Downton Abbey. I had been here a few times, eating with Jericho, and the memory of it was bittersweet. There were always bodies going in and out of that room, so it wasn’t a surprise to see the twins, Callum, and Hugo, sitting there. Geordie was in the corner, scowling.
It was even stranger when their conversation halted, and all three of them turned to face me.
“So, lass.” Geordie started. “I hear you’ve been keeping secrets?”
I stood perfectly still.
