Page 24 of Roses are Royal

“Stay, tesoro mio. You aren’t wearing any shoes, and I don’t want you to cut your feet. I will get the broom, but I want to make sure you didn’t cut your hands first.”

“But your wineglass? It was priceless! I specially ordered them from Italy!”

“Fuck the glass, Rose. Nothing in this house is more priceless than you. Now give me your hands.” He sounds almost frantic, but before I can comply, Dante has taken both of my hands in his and is careful to inspect every inch. His index finger traces the lines on the palm of my right hand, and it feels like lightning through my veins. His inspection slows as his fingers finish their thorough examination. I feel his hands grip my wrists, and he raises his head so his eyes finally reach mine. Warring emotions swirl in his deep forest eyes.

"Non ne posso più," Dante whispers under his breath, but I can’t understand the words, just that he sounds angry.

“Dante, I’m so sor—” But before I can finish my apology, Dante tugs my wrists and pulls my body against his, and my blood goes molten when our lips connect. Dante wraps one hand around the back of my neck and the other around my waist, pressing me flush against his body.

It only takes my mind a second to process, and I wrap my legs around his waist and deepen the kiss. Dante is still taller than me, even sitting on the counter, and he bends over me, forcing me to arch my back and press further into him.

My hands roam up his back and to his neck, tracing the lines and curves of every muscle as they ascend. We are a tangle of tongues and limbs, and one of my hands grasps the strands of his soft dark hair to give me more leverage to deepen the kiss while the nails of my other graze the side of his neck from his strong jaw to the collar of his dress shirt, leaving red marks in their wake. I’m lost in a sea of sensations and bliss until the grip around my waist loosens abruptly, almost making me fall backward with the loss of support. Dante’s wild eyes are almost black, and I can see the untamed desire in them, but his words don’t match the passion we just shared.

“Out,” Dante grits out through clenched teeth, hands fisted at his sides like he has to physically restrain himself from reaching for me.

“Wha…what? What do you mean?” I am so dazed from the high of endorphins and lust coursing through every limb of my body that I think I’ve misheard him.

“Get out! Now!” His voice cuts through the ringing in my ears, and I hear him clearly this time.

“Dante. But…we…I don’t understand.” My high is dropping rapidly, and the panic is setting in. No. No. No!

“Leave the mess and get out, Rose.” Dante has taken several steps back and is gripping the edge of the counter opposite me, creating a space between us that feels like the Grand Canyon.

Message received. I want the floor to open up and swallow me whole. Without another word, Dante turns on his heel and storms out of the kitchen, leaving me breathless and sitting on the counter in shock. I need to get out of here. Dante has likely gone to his office or the elusive basement, but I don’t think I could even look at him right now.

How did this happen to me again? First with Luc and now Dante? Talk about freaking déjà vu. Am I giving off some weird kiss-me vibe? Don’t get me wrong, that kiss was something out of a dark romance novel with its heat and intensity, but it has left me reeling. I really want to grab my stuff and leave, but I can’t just leave the broken glass all over the kitchen floor. With that thought, I quickly sweep up the shards of glass I can find and finish rinsing the remaining glass. Dante can do the rest, but at least I didn’t leave a complete disaster for him to deal with in the morning.

28

DANTE

FUCK! What the actual fuck, Dante? Why would I kiss her? I literally broke the one rule I set for myself on this job, and I broke it without hesitation. Well, technically, there was great hesitation because I’ve wanted to kiss Rose since the moment I set eyes on her through my camera lens. Meeting her in person and getting to know her has just solidified my magnetic attraction to her brains and beauty. Now I have to figure out a way to salvage this situation. I could finish the job now instead of having her complete my house, but that was part of the draw of taking this job even before I got to know her.

Time to lock in and focus on the job I was instructed to do and not spend every waking hour of the day dreaming about this woman. She is a job and nothing else. She can’t be anything else as much as I want her to be. She is my way out, and I need to remember that. I also need to make sure she doesn’t go back to the city after I told her to leave. I had planned to insist she stay here tonight and the remaining nights until the project is complete, but that clearly didn’t go to plan.

Sitting in my basement watching the blinking dot of the tracker on Rose’s vehicle, I can take my first real breath knowing she is still in town, although I’m not sure why she would be at the diner this late. Surely, she would’ve just gone to whatever hotel room she has booked for the evening. But now that I think about it, I didn’t see any room reservations in her email inbox or pending charges on her credit card. Was she hoping I would ask her to stay? Or better yet, was she going to ask me to stay here? I royally fucked that up. I’ll have to keep an eye on her location to ensure she doesn’t end up at that motel she originally stayed at where they found her, but at this point, I’m not sure where else she would go. The manager of that motel was explicitly instructed not to rent her a room under any circumstances.

Maybe I should call her and ask her to come back so we can clear the air and she can stay. I know she didn’t grab all her stuff from her room before she left because that was the first camera I checked, hoping she would decide to stay instead. But why would she when I yelled at her to leave? I yelled at her with anger in my voice, but she probably didn't realize it was anger with myself and not her. I was the one that kissed her after all, and the moment she started to kiss me back was what triggered my brain to pull back.

29

ROSE

FUCK! Fucking Dante! Fucking men! How is this happening to me again? First Luca, and now Dante? I couldn’t get out of there fast enough, but now that I’m in my car and driving, I realize I don’t have a destination. I could go back to the city. Dante would understand I need a few days, but I have deliveries scheduled for tomorrow that took forever to coordinate, and I don’t want to have to reschedule and extend this project any longer than it needs to be at this point.

Here, I was thinking I found my big break as an independent designer with this amazing project, but instead, I have not only kissed the contractor of the project but also the homeowner, my actual client! Actually no, I don’t accept that. They kissed me! Did I kiss them back? Yes. But that’s besides the point. However, they are also the ones who pulled away as I melted into each kiss, but that is something I will need to unpack after this project is over. Maybe it’s finally time I go to therapy again. God knows I have a lot more than these men to unpack with my history.

Before I know it, I am pulling into the parking lot of the diner without realizing I was even driving here. I had intended to go straight to the dingy motel and pray there would be a room available for the night so I could shower off this ridiculous evening, but instead, I’m sitting in my car in front of the neon sign showing they are still open. Well, I guess my subconscious knew I needed some of Shirley’s unique brand of therapy. At least she says what she means and doesn’t speak in riddles like the men occupying my life these days. Maybe she has some ideas on places to stay instead of going back to the city this late. An iced coffee wouldn’t hurt either. Call it liquid therapy.

“What are you doing here this late, sweetie?” Shirley asks as I’m walking through the front door.

“I missed you too, Shirley,” I respond with a weak smile. “I need coffee, obviously.”

“For the life of me, I don’t know how you sleep with the amount of caffeine you consume.”

“Sleep is overrated,” I say with a wave of my hand. “Plus, I’d need a place to stay if I wanted to sleep,” I add under my breath as I walk to my booth. Shirley must have hearing like a hawk because she stops what she’s doing behind the counter and immediately turns in my direction.

“What do you mean you don’t have a place to stay, honey? I thought you were here for work? They don’t put you up in some fancy hotel? Not that there are any fancy hotels in this area. Where have you been staying?”