Stealing Rose - Page 58/93

I nod and release a shaky breath. “Then let’s go.”

Chapter Seventeen

Caden

We walk back to the hotel after saying goodbye to everyone. The only reason we went back to the table was for Rose’s purse. Otherwise I would’ve snuck her out the back so we wouldn’t have to face them.

Nigel was preoccupied with some cute redhead and Hugh looked butt hurt. Violet appeared ready to do violence if I so much as looked at her wrong and Ryder shook my hand, seemingly oblivious to what was happening around him. It all felt very … odd.

Tense.

Truthfully, it was a damn relief to get outside, away from the pub, away from the people who are making me feel guilty. Damn it, I like all of them, with the exception of Hugh the fucker Watson, and I bet he could be a friend now that he knows Rose is off-limits.

As in, she belongs to me.

I feel like my truth is hanging off the tip of my tongue, dangling, really. Ready to be revealed so I can get it over with and face my reality—face Rose. I’m both dying to tell her and scared out of my mind over how she might react, especially with the necklace sitting in my bag. I need to get it out of there and back into the safe, stat.

I’m more scared, though. Afraid she’ll reject me. Hate me. Worse? That she’ll tell the authorities and I’ll end up in jail for the rest of my life.

She wouldn’t do that to me … I don’t think.

We’re silent as we walk, though at least she lets me hold her hand. She looks beautiful, her head held high, that white dress hugging her breasts and waist and hips, the high black heels she has on making those sexy legs of hers look impossibly long.

I am a lucky man, walking down the street holding this woman’s hand. Random guys take a second look as they walk past and I send the ones that do a murderous glare. Can’t they see she belongs to me? Do I need to write a sign across her forehead that declares, Property of Caden Kingsley—Eyes and hands the fuck off?

Yeah. I think I do.

“You’re awfully quiet,” she says as we enter the hotel lobby and head toward the elevators.

I shrug, feeling morose. Like the end is coming and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. “I’m moody.” And now I sound like a whiny girl.

“Too many beers?”

“Unfortunately, I’m pretty sure I’m completely sober.”

She flinches at my choice of words and I curse inwardly. I can’t fuck this up now. My time with her is limited. She’s going to leave me soon.

I have to make the most of it.

“I’m being an asshole,” I tell her when we enter the elevator and the doors close us in.

“Yes, you are.” She smiles.

“I’m sorry.” I never apologize. There’s usually no need, because usually I’m long gone by the time anyone I’ve wronged finds out.

For once, I want to stick. I want to live a real life, not some constant con game. I want to be real with Rose. And if that means sometimes it gets ugly, and sometimes I’m scared, mad, sad, or whatever-the-hell emotion I’m struggling with, I still want to do it.

So I’ve got to fight for it. Own it. Own me. Own her.

Own us.

“You’re forgiven,” she says, her voice soft, her gaze open, showing me all she’s got. And I like what I see. “I’m sorry, too.”

“For what?” I frown.

“For that whole thing with Hugh.” She waves a hand. “He’s nice. I like him. But not … not like that.”

“He likes you like that.” Just thinking about Hugh makes me want to hit something, specifically his smug face.

“I bet he doesn’t anymore.” Her smile grows. “You couldn’t have been more possessive, what with the way you practically growled at him when he caught us kissing by the bathrooms.”

“I didn’t growl at him.” Did I? I don’t remember.

“Yes. You definitely did. You should’ve just hung a sign around my neck that said Property of Caden. That would’ve sent your message loud and clear.”

“I considered it,” I say truthfully. “But I guess my growling was good enough.”

Her eyes sparkle with amusement. “I thought it was kind of sexy.”

“Oh yeah? You like it when I growl?” She can’t be serious. That smile on her pretty face is telling me she’s making fun of me, but you never know with Rose. She’s a constant surprise. A dirty, naughty, fun, extremely sexy surprise.

“I do. Maybe you can growl for me later.”

“I can growl for you right now if you want me to.” I go for her, my arms sliding around her waist just as the elevator comes to a stop at our floor and the doors slide open. She slips out of my embrace and practically races out of the elevator toward the room.

“You have to catch me first,” she calls over her shoulder, the key card already clasped in her fingers.

I saunter after her, not bothering to run. I’ll catch her; I have complete faith in that. She wants to be caught. Maybe she’s a little buzzed from the two drinks she had. Maybe she’s relieved to get out of the tense atmosphere of the pub. Maybe she’s just happy to finally be alone with me.

Whatever it is, I’m letting her have her fun because I reap all the benefits.

She opens the door just as I approach her, my hands going to her waist so I can shove her into the room. Crowding her, I wrap my arms around her from behind and pull her to me, her ass pressed against my front, my hands reaching for her breasts as I kiss her neck. The door shuts behind us, closing us in so we’re all alone. “Caught ya,” I mutter against her skin and she giggles.