Stealing Rose
Page 66

Major mistakes could mean jail time. Something I definitely wanted to avoid. That meant the partying had to stop.
“That’s not my scene anymore and you know it,” I tell him. “Don’t make me go.”
“Just stop by. For a few minutes. I won’t take up too much of your time.” Mitchell is practically pleading. Weird.
“Fine.” I blow out an irritated breath. “I’ll stop by for thirty minutes. That’s it. No more.”
“Perfect. You won’t regret it. I swear.”
“What time you want me there?” I ask, suddenly feeling tired. Like old-man-with-the-world-on-his-shoulders tired. I am so through with this sort of shit.
“Anytime. The party has already started.”
“It’s not even eleven o’clock in the morning.”
“I know. Isn’t it fucking great? I love this town. You can party whenever you want and no one judges you for it.” Mitchell laughs. “I’ll text you my address.”
“Great.” I end the call and shove my phone into the front pocket of my jeans. This is all sorts of fucked. How am I going to explain to Rose where I’m going? I sure as hell can’t bring her with me. I don’t want her anywhere near Mitchell and his sleazy friends.
You’re one of Mitchell’s sleazy friends.
That thought doesn’t settle well.
I go back up to the hotel suite to find Rose in the shower, the bathroom door open though the space is full of steam and billowing out into the rest of the suite. I should put the necklace back in the safe, while I have a chance. Or I should go in there and join her. Surprise her. But if I do, that’ll lead to soaping up her body, which will turn into touching her body. Then kissing. Then fucking.
Yeah. I can’t risk it. She probably has to go in to work and I need to go to Mitchell’s.
Can’t wait.
Dread consuming me, I grab my duffel bag, figuring I may as well start packing now so I don’t wait and do it at the last minute like I usually do. I unzip it and start folding everything I’d shoved in there over the last few days. Hell, weeks. We’ve had to use the hotel laundry service and I paid for my clothes to be cleaned. I even went to the front desk a few days ago and tried to pay for the stay up until then, irritated when the desk clerk told me it was already taken care of. I want to take responsibility for something beyond a few dinners out.
“Shit.” I see the velvet box nestled deep and I glance at the open bathroom door. The shower just shut off and I shove everything back into the bag, zipping it closed. Frustration rolls through me that I didn’t just put the necklace back into the safe and I have no one to blame but myself.
I walk around the suite, picking up my clothes where I left them, which is all over the place. Rose and I have acted like horny teenagers, locking ourselves away in this suite, ordering room service or takeout, lazing around. Having sex, talking, more sex, sleep, eat, sex, sleep, talk.
Sex, sex, sex.
I wouldn’t trade these days for the world, but I need to get back to reality. Rose has slowly but surely been acting like an actual grown-up already. Now it’s my turn.
But that means I have to leave.
“Oh!” I turn at Rose’s startled gasp to find her standing in the bathroom doorway, holding a thick white towel in front of her. “I didn’t realize you came back.”
“Sorry.” The towel isn’t actually wrapped around her, offering me a glimpse of her waist and hips and upper thighs. All those wondrous curves I’ve run my hands over again and again. I tear my gaze away from her and turn back to my duffel, zipping it back open so I can shove everything I grabbed back inside. “You going in to Fleur this afternoon?”
“I am.” She approaches me and I step away from the bag, not wanting her near it. What if she saw the velvet box? I can smell her as she draws near, clean and fresh, and my hands literally ache to touch her. But I don’t. I won’t. Touching her makes me lose brain cells, I swear to God. Until all I can do is focus on her. “What are you doing?”
“Ah …” How can I broach this subject lightly? “Cleaning up around here, putting away my stuff. I’m sure the maids hate us.”
“I’m sure,” she agrees wryly, her arms sneaking around me from behind. She presses her body to mine, her hands slipping beneath my shirt to rest lightly against my stomach. I can feel every naked, damp inch of her. She must have ditched the towel. I close my eyes, inhaling deep. She’s trying to kill me, I swear. “I have a little time before I have to get ready,” she murmurs.
Her voice, her words, are pure temptation. Temptation I must avoid. “Yeah? Well, I uh, gotta go in a little bit.”
She releases her hold and steps away from me. The loss of her touch hits me like a punch to the gut. “Where are you going?” Her voice is wary. Unsure. I never leave. She’s the one who has a life. I’m the one who’s been so completely focused on her and nothing else.
Behaving like this can’t be good for me. She has the upper hand and I never give anyone that power. Rose makes me vulnerable.
And I don’t like it.
I turn to face her again, my expression impassive. Trying my best to throw up the wall I used to be so damn good at erecting around myself so no one can penetrate it. “Going to my friend Mitchell’s. I’ve mentioned him before, the guy with the jet? He wanted me to come over for a bit, so I thought I’d see him while you’re at work.”