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“You’re taking a tux for a spin?” His cocked brow told me he was not buying my bullshit. “Now look what you’ve done. You’ve got me all intrigued. I’m not going to leave you alone until you tell me where you’ve been.”
I huffed out a breath. “Fine. I’ve been at dinner.”
His eyes widened. “With whom?”
“No one you know.” Shit. If I could have kicked myself without him seeing, I would have done so several times.
“This is the Isle of Crow, Dax. Everyone knows everyone.” He brought himself closer and lowered his voice. “What are you hiding?”
My eyes searched his for any suggestion he might do something underhand with whatever information I gave him – that was usually the way with my family – but all I saw was genuine interest, laced with a little concern. Because that’s how people looked at me now. With concern. Concern for my body, concern for my mental health, concern for my lonely heart.
I decided to err on the side of caution. “It was Gerry’s birthday.”
Rupert bit back a smile. “Gerry? Your security guy? You two a thing?”
I punched his arm but he didn’t even wince. The man was made of steel. I thought I was a battle-axe in the weights room but I was nothing compared to Rupert.
“No. But even if we were, I wouldn’t hide it. Anyway, he’s been working like a damn trojan these last few weeks and I thought he deserved some kind of recognition.”
“Why didn’t you just buy dinner for him and his partner?”
I felt the back of my neck start to sweat. Rupert wasn’t buying my story and was gleefully rejoicing in making this more difficult than it needed to be.
“Because… I wanted to show some interest in him. Isn’t that what good bosses do?”
Rupert snorted. “In any other world but this one.”
For a few seconds we shared a look of recognition, a silent acknowledgement of the fucked-up family and fucked-up way of life we’d all been raised in.
He pushed himself off the wall. “Yeah, well, I’ll let you get on.”
“Sure,” I replied, feeling my nerve endings sigh with relief.
“You look good, cuz,” he said, as I walked past. “You should do more stuff that requires a tux.”
I glared at him. I didn’t lookgood. I looked like a giant skin graft in a custom suit.
“Goodnight Rupert,” I bit out, trying not to feel his pitying eyes on my back as I walked away.
I didn’t wantto wake up. My dreams had been filled with visions of Rose. Even in the depths of sleep I could feel her touch on my shoulder and the weight of her arm along mine. Our fingers were threaded together as we glided around the ballroom in a never-ending waltz. There was no conversation, only touch. Conversation seemed too lowly a thing to be permitted to intercept our little slice of time. But the sensation of touch deepened until we were moulded together as one. Her smile became mine. My body became hers.
When I reluctantly opened my eyes, the feeling stayed with me. Rose was more than just some girl who wanted to sell her virginity. She was a goddess who was only still in this tower because I’d imprisoned her.
I growled low and pushed myself out of bed into the shower. It was still early but I didn’t want to wait until a supposedly respectable hour. I wanted to see Rose now. It didn’t matter that a sweep of her gaze made me feel as unworthy as I was, or that her thinly veiled hatred was impossible for her to disguise. I just wanted to bask a little in her proximity. I’d never have a woman like Rose in my captivity again, so I wasn’t going to waste another minute.
Freshly showered, I messaged Harrod. Ten minutes of pacing the room later, a knock came at the door. I opened it tofind my butler standing at the other side, his head turned and brow raised in a look that said, ‘are you sure about this?’
“Relax, Harrod.” I took the tray from him and strode past and down the stairs two floors to the guest room.
One of my two security men unlocked the door for me, seeing as I had no hands free.
Her face was bright as the door revealed her, then it dimmed when she set eyes on me. Even the sight of a silver tray laden with French pastries, sliced fruits, cold meats and freshly brewed coffee failed to permeate her resentful exterior.
The door had swung wide to let me in, then the weight drew it closed with a loud clunk.
“I wasn’t expecting you,” she said in a bored tone, gesturing to the robe she was wrapped in. “If you give me a minute, I’ll change.”
“Don’t change on my account.” I wouldn’t have minded staring at the gap in her robe wondering what she tasted like beneath it. “Only if it makes you feel more comfortable.”
