Page 28 of Resisting You
I was losing her. I’d hadn’t even had her for 24 hours yet, and I was already losing her. “Rosa,” I said carefully. “It’ll be fine. I promise to wear a shirt. Hell, I promise I’ll wear a damn snowsuit around you. Just… relax.”
“Relax,” she repeated, a small laugh exploding with the word. “Relax. I woke up married to one of Time Magazine’s most eligible bachelors of the year and you’re telling me to relax.”
“Let’s be honest, Rosa,” I said. I knew I had to tread carefully, but walking on eggshells wasn’t exactly working to diffuse the situation… maybe a little tough love truth would. “You’re not freaking out because of the marriage. You’ve known that fact several hours now. Us staying married wasyouridea, remember? If you want to abandon that plan… fine. It’s not too late. But don’t pretend that what’s happening right now is cold feet.”
Her eyes narrowed dangerously.
Yep. If I was walking on eggshells before, then now I was making my way across a very active volcano.
“Oh, really?” she asked. “Then enlighten me, whatishappening right now?”
“You’re freaking out because you want me.” It was obvious. She couldn’t go from caressing my bare torso one moment to darting across the room the next. I saw it in her panic-ridden expression. “You don’twantto want me… but you do. And it scares the hell out of you.”
Those narrowed eyes of hers flare, anger flashing in them. “Tell me something, Noah. Do you make a habit out of telling women what they’re feeling? Because if so, I think I’m getting a much clearer picture of why you haven’t kept a girlfriend for more than a few months at a time. Other than your co-star… what was her name?”
Morgan. We only really dated for a couple months, but the show and our publicists decided it looked good to keep the ruseof our relationship going for the first season and a half of our show.
Morgan, unfortunately, thought it was more real than it truly was.
“Pretty low blow. Are you trying to push me away? What would your armchair psychology assessment be about that?”
Her eyes lit on fire at that and she grabbed her luggage and white box that was on the counter. “I’ve spent my adult life getting an education in this field. I have a damn PsyD in it. I’ve spent years growing, and learning. And I’m damn good at what I do.” She yanked the door open to my suite and shoved her suitcase out first.
Then she stomped down the hallway.
Oh hell no. I wasn’t letting her get away that easily. Not in a huff of anger. I ran out the door after her out into the hallway, being sure to grab my room key before the suite door shut behind me.
I caught up to her just as she was shoving her finger into the elevator call button.“Where are you going? You said so yourself, there are no rooms available anywhere.”
“You were right about one thing,” she snapped, spinning around to face me. “Maybe we should abandon our plan of staying married. The only people we’ve told so far are your family members. And I’m sure they’d be understanding.”
The elevator gave a ding and the doors opened to us. I followed Rosa as she rolled her luggage on and hit the lobby button.
“Yourplan, Rosa.” I said, pointing at her. “This was all your idea, remember? Your practice. Your potential clients.”
“Your charity auction! Your career that has stalled with a crappy teen vampire show!” she shouted back. As she flailed her arms, the white box tipped, the cover opening and six cupcakes spilled onto the floor of the elevator.
We both stared at the mess between us for a couple of seconds before Rosa gave a shrill, frustrated squeal and dropped to her knees in front of the pile of sugar, buttercream, and cake.
She was only making the mess worse as she tried to pick up the pieces, accidentally smearing the buttercream more along the floor. “Shit, shit, shit,” she said.
“Stop,” I said, kneeling on the other side. “Use the box to scoop it up. The heat of your hands is melting the buttercream. God, you had to getbluecupcakes, didn’t you? Couldn’t have gone with standard vanilla?—”
“They looked pretty!” She fell back on her haunches and looked to the mirrored ceiling, letting loose another feral growl.
Her hands were covered in blue and pink frosting with bits of cake stuck between her fingers. Some had gotten on her legs and on the hem of her dress.
“This was all we needed, huh? A giant mess left in the elevator.”
With a sigh, Rosa tried to stand up and I couldn’t help but smile at the blue frosting coating her knees.
“We’ll explain it to the front desk and offer to finish cleaning it up ourselves.” I shrugged, as I attempted to scoop the remnants of cupcakes into my palms.
“Do you think they’ll understand—” Rosa started to ask. But her heel slipped on the slick buttercream and down she came, falling right into my lap.
Two fistfulls of buttercream smashed into my face just as the elevator doors opened and a crowd of photographers and reporters charged us, cameras flashing and capturing the moment.
Chapter 11
