by Amy Miles
Panting, Gabriel closes his eyes and focuses on Roseline. On her piercing eyes. Her smile, which makes him weak with desire. He can almost imagine the feel of her soothing hands against his feverish skin, taste her kisses on his lips, feel her hair draped across his bare chest.
His eyes sting as tears begin to form. Filled with resolve, he swipes them away. He won’t be weak. He can’t be. She needs him.
A strangled groan escapes his lips as heat begins to bloom once more. “No, please, not again,” he begs as his pelvis explodes.
Chapter 7
Nicolae whistles as Roseline steers his vehicle in front of a hotel. “You want to stay at the Savoy?”
She ducks low to look at the stately building through the snow-framed windshield. She and the Savoy go way back. Roseline smiles, remembering how she and Fane danced long into the night in celebration of the grand opening back in 1889.
“Can you think of a better place to sleep?”
“Nope,” he grins, propping open his door. Frosty air gusts into the car. He hops out, wincing at the twinge in his lower back. “I’ll just go get us a room.”
“Nicolae, wait…” The door slams. Roseline shakes her head. “This is not going to end well.”
The door attendant’s eyebrows rise as Nicolae hobbles past. His heavily creased sweater and jeans are certainly not acceptable attire for the world-renowned Savoy. He enters through the sweeping doors, oblivious to the doorman’s scrutiny.
Roseline lowers the window, turning her face toward the biting winds. Twenty-six hours, riding in this sauna, has left her drained both physically and mentally.
Although she would never admit it, Roseline chose the Savoy for one very good reason, the luxurious bathroom awaiting her. A nice long soak will do wonders to revive her.
She does not have long to wait before Nicolae arrives. He thrusts up into the passenger seat, angrily brushing a pile of dripping snow from his hair. “Of all the rude, insensitive people that I have ever met!”
Roseline grins. “Is something the matter?”
“They won’t take my credit card,” he snaps, reminding her of a spitting cobra. Agitated, he thumps his thumb against the window.
“Let me guess, they think you’ve stolen your parent’s credit card.”
“It has my bloody name on it!”
“Your English accent is truly appalling when you are mad.” She fights to stifle a laugh, but fails.
Nicolae scowls. “Think you can do any better?”
“Of course I can. I have looked seventeen a whole lot longer than you have. Take the wheel.” Without waiting for him to move, she nimbly crawls into the back seat. “Drive around the block a few times.”
Nicolae frowns, glancing between her and the empty driver’s seat. “What are you doing?”
“Just turn around and don’t peek.”
Nicolae tucks his legs into the driver’s side and settles behind the wheel. “This is a bad idea.”
He flips on the turn signal and darts out into the heavy London traffic. The oversized Hummer squeezes down the streets, nearly shoving cars out of the way. Honking horns create a symphony in the background.
A military boot lands in the seat next to him, followed quickly by a pair of black pants. He glances in the rearview mirror. “Please tell me you’re not actually stripping back there.”
“Just focus on the road. I’m almost done.”
“Someone might see you,” he hisses, yanking the car around a roundabout.
Roseline’s head pops up between the front seats. She wiggles past him and drops into the passenger side. “Tinted windows are a modern miracle.”
“They aren’t that tinted,” he curses as he yanks on the wheel to dodge a straggler from a tour group, gazing up at Big Ben.
“It’s fine. It’s not like this was my first time,” she laughs.
“Somehow, I don’t doubt that.” When he darts another glance at her, his jaw drops open, the wheel twists through his loose grip and a car horn blares right behind them. Roseline grabs the steering wheel, yanking the car back onto the road.
“Stop staring and drive,” she growls. She releases the wheel once he is back in control.
“You almost got us killed,” he grumbles, peeling his eyes away from her skimpy dress.
“I am not the one driving,” she points out, “and you forget that one of us is already technically dead.”
“Semantics,” Nicolae mutters, regaining control of the car. “Where did you get that dress?”
“From a lovely boutique in Austria, not too far outside of Vienna. I grabbed it while you were snoring away. I thought it might come in handy. Looks like I was right.” She runs her hand along the silky fabric. “The seamstress was delighted that it fit me so well.”
That is an understatement. She looks as if she has been poured into the deep emerald dress. The low cut neckline accentuates her curvy figure while the high hemline emphasizes her endless legs. The torso is snug, molding perfectly to her narrow waist. It flares gently at her hips.
Roseline’s fingers move deftly over her hair, brushing out the tangles. By rearranging some pins in her hair, she collects curls until long tresses caress her smooth ivory cheeks. “How do I look?”
His lips part, cheeks redden as he gives her a rapid once over, “Yeah, that should work.”
“Turn right,” she points. He spins the wheel, pulling back into the Savoy entry. The door attendant frowns as he steps out into the blustery cold.
“I don’t think he’s too happy to see us again.”
“Don’t worry,” Roseline flashes him a winning smile, “I’m about to change his mind.” She opens the passenger door and allows her legs to slide out, her strappy black heels hugging her feet. She turns back. “Oh, and whatever happens, try not to freak out.”
“What the heck is that supposed to mean?” The door slams in his face as Roseline steps lightly onto the curb and waits. When Nicolae joins her, she tucks her arm firmly through his. “Follow my lead.”
With purposeful steps, she pulls Nicolae towards the entrance. A radiant smile stretches along her face. Nicolae dips his shoulders, barricading against the wind.
The door attendant stands a little straighter, adjusting his tie as Roseline saunters up with Nicolae on her arm. “Good afternoon,” she says, her voice dripping with honey as she adopts a perfect English accent.
Nicolae watches the exact moment that she snags him. His adam’s apple bobs as the man gazes at each amplified curve of her supple body. He tips his hat, sucks in his beer belly and bows low as she passes. Roseline makes sure to give him an extra wiggle as they pass through the glass doors. “Miss.”
“That’s disgusting,” Nicolae shudders.
She tosses her curls over her shoulder as she winks at a young man peering at her over his newspaper in the lobby. “He is simply a means to an end.”
“You are pure evil,” Nicolae mutters under his breath.
Her musical laughter soars through the lavish room as they stroll across the checkered floor. Heads turn and eyes light with curiosity as the oddly matched couple waltz up to the reception desk.
Roseline taps the bell, waiting patiently. Nicolae’s face turns upward, staring at the wide floor-to-ceiling columns and rich mahogany accents. “For this to work, you’re going to have to actually look at me,” Roseline whispers.
She turns toward Nicolae, curling her shoulders over just enough to accentuate the curves threatening to spill out of her dress. He risks a tiny glance.
“Not at my chest,” she hisses. “I need you able to walk out of here.”
A crimson flame creeps up Nicolae’s neck. Roseline rolls her eyes. He is making this much harder than it needs to be. She leans in, letting her breath caress his neck. He groans softly. “Open your eyes,” she whispers.
This time, Nicolae makes sure to keep his gaze above her chin. She scrutinizes him, noting the rapid pulse thrumming against his neck. The flush rising on his neck. The way he
strokes his inner arm, as if he wished it were her skin under his fingertips. “Good. Now act like you are in love with me.”
“What?” He yanks back, his voice dispersing throughout the room.
Roseline titters, covering over his mistake. Tossing her curls over her shoulder, she hides her annoyance from the hotel guests. “Focus, Nicolae.”
She hits the bell again, louder this time. A door opens. She breathes a sigh of relief as the stuffy concierge approaches. “May I help you, sir?” He turns to address Nicolae.
“Uh…yeah. I, uh…” Nicolae splutters.
Roseline giggles, letting her nails dance across the counter. “What my eloquent fiancé is trying to say is that we would like a room.” She leans in closer. “We’re celebrating our recent engagement.”
“How lovely for you,” the man replies dryly, “but as I have already informed your fiancé, we do not rent rooms to minors without prior consent from a parent or legal guardian.”
His gaze travels over Roseline’s face and then dips lower. She hears his pulse begin elevate. Good. It is working. She has his attention, but needs to set the hook.
Reaching behind her, Roseline places Nicolae’s hand on her hip. His fingers stiffen, clawing into her flesh. Roseline allows her eyes to close for a split second, long enough to imagine someone else’s hands- Gabriel’s.
The instant her mind slips into the lie, she has him. Hormones leek from her skin, curling past the long hairs just peeking out from the concierge’s nose. He breathes deep, savoring the scent of her bewitching aroma.
Her fingers walk forward, circling just in front of his. “Surely there is something you can do to help us.” Breathy words push her intoxicating hormones into his face.
With a slight of hand, she produces Nicolae’s black credit card from his back pocket. “I would be very, very, appreciative.” She places the card in the man’s hand, allowing her fingers to trail down his. The feel of his clammy hand turns her stomach, but she keeps her smile plastered firmly in place.
The concierge's heart thunders in his chest. Tiny beads of sweat glide down his forehead, dampening his starched collar. "The uh...the junior suite, with a river view, is lovely. It's rather pricey though."
Her fingertips brush the side of his hand. "Price doesn't matter."
"Of course." He reluctantly pulls his hand away to process the transaction.
Nicolae’s fingers tighten around her waist, tugging at the material that bars him access to her skin. Roseline inwardly groans. She glances back at him. His pupils are fully dilated, eyes glassy and knows she has inadvertently affected him as well.
This is going to be awkward. She slaps away his hand, playfully giggling as if it were all a fun game. The concierge frowns at Nicolae. “Your key, Miss. Would you like some assistance parking your car?”
Two bellhops surge forward, eager to help. Roseline takes the key and pulls Nicolae after her. “No, thank you. I’m sure we can manage.”
The instant they reach the sidewalk, Roseline shoves Nicolae away. He pouts, hands reaching out for her again. “Snap out of it. Take deep breaths. Let the fresh air cleanse your senses.”
“What are you talking about?” he slurs, reaching for her again.
She slams the car door in his face, leaving him standing on the path. He blinks, shocked by her sudden dismissal. He rounds the front of the car and pulls himself into the driver’s seat.
“Why are you angry with me?”
Roseline pinches the bridge of her nose. “Just drive, please.”
His gaze lingers a moment longer before he puts the car into gear and follows the directions to the parking garage. Once parked, he leaps from the car and races to open her door. “Allow me,” he says, snatching her bag from the back seat. She groans and heads for the hotel.
The elevator ride seems to take forever. Nicolae stares at her with sappy adoration. An elderly woman gives her a knowing smile before departing on the third floor.
Roseline sucks in a calming breath as the elevator jerks to a halt. The doors open and she practically runs to their room. Her fingers fumble with the key slot.
The instant the door lock clicks, Roseline rounds on him. Her open palm connects with his cheek. Stunned, Nicolae’s eyes refocus. “What was that for?”
“You are creeping me out.”
His brow creases. “I don’t understand. Did I do something wrong?”
“No. I think I did.” Nicolae steps forward, hands outstretched. “No,” she shakes her head, “stay back.”
“But I want to help.”
Roseline backs into the adjoining room, rubbing her neck as she tries to think of a solution. His mirroring steps make it hard to think, but her mind finally latches onto a thought. “Sadie,” she stops and turns, “think about her, Nicolae.”
“Sadie,” he whispers. His vision begins to clear as understanding contorts his face into a scowl. He stomps toward her, hands clenched into fists at his side. “You used me!”
“I didn’t know you would fall for it,” she snaps, tossing her bag onto an Edwardian chair just past the entrance of the room. She crosses her arms over her chest. “Do you honestly think I enjoyed having you paw at me?”
His eyes darken, finger jabs at her. “Don’t try to turn this on me. I’m not the one that uses sexual appeal to get my way.”
“It’s a good thing, because it wouldn’t work for you,” she snaps.
Nicolae growls, beginning to pace. Roseline sighs heavily. “Look, I did what had to be done. End of story.”
“Oh really? We couldn’t have gone to a different hotel? One that doesn’t hire pompous pricks?”
Dropping to the bed, Roseline unstraps her heels and lets them fall to the floor. She is exhausted.
“Are you even listening to me?” Nicolae shouts.
“No.” Roseline grabs a robe from the bed and brushes past him. She pauses in the bathroom doorway. “I’ll let you know when I’m done. It looks like you could use a cold shower.”
Chapter 8
Roseline stoops to turn off the tap. Scented salts fill the air with a light floral aroma. Steam rises from the deep bath. Normally she would not dare step foot in water so hot, because of her naturally warm skin anything heated feels unbearable, but her muscles ache terribly from the long drive. She is willing to endure the stifling warmth for the water’s soothing relief.
Not to mention she could use some down time after her confrontation with Nicolae. That certainly did not go as well as she would have liked, but one glance at the bubble-filled tub washes away her remorse. Nicolae on the other hand, has not calmed down a bit. His manic pacing in the outer room filters under the door.
Bitter rumblings from a teenage boy…how relaxing!
Grabbing the hem of her dress, Roseline pulls it overhead. A cascade of loose curls spills over her shoulders as pins wrench from her hair. The silky material flutters to the floor, pooling on the veined marble. The cool air pumping through the vents overhead feels refreshing on her bare skin.
Her arms fall to her sides as she tilts her head toward the door. Nicolae’s pacing has stopped. Silence weighs heavily in the room.
Has he left? She cannot recall hearing the outer door close. Roseline shrugs, deciding that a wintry walk might be the best cure for his raging hormones.
Just then, the bathroom door flings wide open. Roseline snatches her dress from the floor and dives for the walk-in shower. She wedges herself into the far corner, praying the exposed chrome pipes will aid in hiding her from view.
Nicolae steps over the threshold and eyes the lengthy counter. A white terry cloth robe drapes over the sink. A bath salt container sits open next to the steaming tub. A bottle of shampoo stands, ready for use, on the ledge.
Confused, Nicolae turns back. Roseline rolls her eyes. Does he really think she managed to slip by him? He steps further into the room, jerking back when he discovers her hiding place.
“Get out,” she cries, clinging to her dress for cover. It
manages to drape sufficiently along the center of her body but leaves her sides and hips exposed.
“Oh crap!” he shouts, stumbling back. His hip slams into the sharp edge of the counter. He grunts, holding his wounded side as he races from the room. The door rocks on its hinges as he slams it behind him.
Roseline rushes to lock the door behind her. She sinks down the wall, scolding herself for not doing so in the first place.
***
“What were you thinking?” Roseline yells, tucking the belt of her robe in place. Clumps of wet hair fall down her back. Her freshly scrubbed skin glows in the dim lamp light. After Nicolae’s brazen entrance, she lost all desire for a long soak and settled for an icy shower.