Page 50 of Rose and the Rogue
“You think I ask just any woman to sing for me, going to absurd lengths to get her into a place where only I can hear?”
“I’m sure I’m not the first woman you’ve gone to absurd lengths to get alone.”
“But you are the first I’ve begged to let me hear as you sing.” His fingertip gently brushed her cheek. “The first I can’t stop dreaming of.”
“Dreaming?” Rose asked, surprised.
He paused, perhaps embarrassed by the confession. Then he said, “Every night.”
“So you didn’t just compromise my reputation to hear me sing?”
“No, I’m intending to do more than that. You have two choices, Rose.”
“What are they?”
“I can take you home now, possibly compromised but still a virgin. Or I can take you upstairs, where you will very definitely be compromised and you won’t be a virgin for much longer.”
“It almost sounds like you want me to leave.”
“God, no. But I want you to decide for yourself.”
Go back to her old life, or experience something entirely new? What sort of choice was that?
Rose took a slow breath, then said, “Please take me upstairs.”
He led her up a curving flight of stairs, the marble making their footsteps echo in the foyer. As Rose moved deeper into the house, she felt as if she’d never emerge in the real world again. Or perhaps she would, but she wouldn’t be the same person.
“This is the door to my rooms,” he said at last, stopping.
“Well, then you’d better open it,” Rose replied, trying to keep her tone light when in fact her heart was hammering with anticipation.
“I’m rushing you,” he said then. “I’m used to taking what I want, but you’re different…”
“Adrian, if you try to put me off one more time—” Rose leaned into him and put her hands very firmly on the lapels of his jacket, keeping him in front of her. Then she raised her mouth and found his.
The kiss betrayed her impatience, and her hunger. Rose was done with sitting quietly while others decided her life. At least for this moment, she was going to take what she wanted.
And she wanted Adrian. She wanted to know how he felt to touch, how it would be to lie with him in a bed and have nothing between them.
Adrian responded with a hunger of his own, and Rose grew wild as he deepened the kiss to a new level of need, breathing in faster as she fell into the desire blooming through her body.
“Open the door,” Rose gasped, and he did, pushing it inward and taking her through.
“Bed is over here,” he told her, then simply picked her up and carried her there, setting her down on what she could tell was a massive bed. Rose found it amazingly comfortable, with mounds of pillows to cushion her weight.
Adrian put one knee on the bed, and she heard the sound of him pulling his jacket off, then the soft whisper of linen as his shirt followed.
He moved toward her, taking her hands and drawing them to his torso. “Touch me,” he instructed, his voice low and laced with passion.
She ran her fingers over his chest, feeling the texture and temperature of him, learning how he was shaped and how his muscles curved and rippled under her touch. She strove to memorize every moment, certain that she’d never experience this again. Then she moved her hands to his neck and his face, pulling him toward her.
“I like this,” she told him, “I like feeling you and knowing how you’re shaped. People have told me you’re handsome, and I don’t know what that means anymore, but I know I like to touch you and kiss you and smell you.”
“I just wish you could see how beautiful you are, Rose,” he said, his breath against her cheek. “But I’m going to make you feel beautiful tonight.”
“You always do,” she whispered.
“This way will be new.” Adrian knelt between her legs, and his hands moved under her skirt, pushing the fabric up to her thighs, exposing her skin to the cooler air. She shivered involuntarily.
