Page 28 of Roses are Royal

“Good night, Rose.”

“Good night, Dante.”

I wait for her to hang up, then switch the audio back on. Rose has her forehead leaning against the steering wheel, but she lets out a loud sigh without lifting her head. Sitting up straight and looking out the windshield, she speaks to herself in the silence of the car.

“Pull it together, Ro. He is your client. He regrets kissing you and said it won’t happen again. Now pull yourself together and get inside and get some sleep. Tomorrow you will act professional and not like you want him to throw you against the nearest surface and do unthinkable things to you. Gah! Stop! Focus. Sleep and then work.”

With a nod of her head, it seems her monologue has given her the peace she needs for the night, but as she goes to put her car in Drive, I can see her hesitate. Come on, Rose, put it in Drive and get in here. With another deep breath, she puts her car in Drive and begins down my winding driveway.

I switch surveillance screens to watch her through my exterior cameras. As soon as she is parked and walking up the front steps, I switch to my interior feeds. There she is, tesoro mio. I wait until she is safely in the guest room and engage the additional electronic locks and security system on the entire property just to be safe.

I need to try to get some sleep tonight, if possible, and having her in my house seems to release some of the tension I’ve been holding since she walked out the front door. Knowing she is safe for the night, I click off my monitors and make my way to the couch, knowing my dreams will be plagued with memories of that kiss, and I fight the urge to watch her sleep.

31

ROSE

Padding out into the kitchen on bare feet the following morning brings the events of the night before back into stark focus. I pause for only a second and head right back upstairs and into the guest room.

I can’t just be wandering around Dante’s house in my pajamas and bare feet if I want any chance of keeping things professional around him. I would never do something like that with any other client I’ve had. Then again, I would never be staying in any other client’s home. Circumstances have created an exception to the rule, I guess, but I need to draw the hard professional line and hold it, starting right now.

After I’ve showered and fully dressed for the day, I feel more like the professional boss that I am. Wearing my cream-colored silk wool wide-legged suit pants and a matching cream vest with tortoise-shell buttons, I slip on my gold pumps to match the array of gold necklaces and bracelets I’ve chosen as my armor for the day. I decide to leave off the matching double-breasted suit jacket since I will be spending most of the day inside, receiving deliveries. I finish the look with a smoky eye and nude lip, and I feel powerful and in charge. It’s a nice change from always feeling like I’m on my back foot when it comes to Dante. All that I need now is a large coffee, and I’ll be ready to take on the day.

Heading back down the stairs in my Tom Ford armor, I feel more like myself than I have in weeks. Keys in hand, I’m about to reach for the front door handle but am stopped by a voice calling my name from the kitchen.

“Rose.” Of course Dante is already awake.

Walking back into the house and entering the kitchen, I’m struck speechless, and it feels like my feet have stepped in quicksand. I can’t move. Dante, the Greek Adonis, stands in the kitchen shirtless with just a pair of black joggers slung low on his chiseled waist, showing off the impressive ink across his entire upper body. Low enough that I can see the pronounced muscles shaping a delicious V-shape that guide my eyes lower and lower until I come face to…well…not face but another head.

“I was making some coffee after my run. Would you like some?”

Snapping my eyes back up to meet Dante’s, I pray that he didn’t see me blatantly checking out his, um, package. Cringe, Ro, seriously. But he just turns around and goes about pulling several shots of espresso from his coffee maker. Well, that thing could hardly be referred to as just a coffee maker, considering it was one of the more expensive appliances he had me buy, but he operates it with ease.

“Oh, um, I was actually going to run to the diner for a quick coffee before the deliveries start arriving.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. This will be better than anything that place could make. Plus, it will save you a trip.”

“I don’t want to impose. I promise I don’t mind going to the diner. Their coffee is, um, growing on me actually.”

Dante turns and cocks his eyebrow with a smirk conveying everything in that one look. He is clearly not buying my words.

“I can even make it iced if you’d like.”

How does he know that’s how I prefer my coffee? I don’t know, Ro, maybe the fact that you practically have a cup of iced coffee glued to your hand at all hours of the day, especially when you are working, and he’s brought you coffee before.

“Oh, um, I don’t want to be a bother. I’ll just have it however you are having it.”

“Sit. It’s no trouble. Give me a few minutes, and I’ll pull some fresh shots. I have some creamer in the fridge, and I believe you know where the sugar is.”

“No, really. I’d like to try it however you make it. I’m in the mood to switch things up today.”

“Coming right up, Rose.” Dante turns toward the espresso machine but not before I catch the twitch of a smile on his face.

Ugh, this is feeling much too domestic. Should I bring up what happened last night and clear the air? I mean, maybe I don’t have to. Dante is acting like it never happened. Just like he said last night, “it was a mistake.” The words still sting a little as I relive the moment on the phone as I sat in my car pretending not to be outside his gate, phone in hand, planning to call him and probably beg him to stay the night. Luckily, he called first, and that small grace allowed me to save some face. If he can pretend nothing happened, then so can I.

And that’s exactly how the rest of the morning went, like nothing happened. The latte Dante made me was literally one of the best coffees I have ever had, and I had to bite my tongue on several occasions to stop from moaning in pleasure out loud. Maybe I drink my coffee hot now? Groundbreaking.

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