But she couldn’t bear the thought of it. She couldn’t bear the thought of walking back into Duchess Bail Bonds and going on as if nothing had happened. As if West O’Connor hadn’t broken her heart into a million tiny pieces.
She’d never been able to pretend and she certainly couldn’t now he’d given her a taste of what she could have had. Fabulous sex and a warm, muscular shoulder to cry on. Strong arms to hold her when she felt weak. A passionate heart to trust.
A passionate heart he didn’t want to give her, even though she’d given him hers long ago. Because he was right about that. She’d been in love with him for years and hadn’t understood that herself until he’d said it.
Rose walked unsteadily to the elevators and pressed the button.
Damn him. He’d been right about a lot of things, but there was one thing he wasn’t right about. He wasn’t right about the fact that he couldn’t give her what she wanted. He could. He just didn’t want to. And that was what hurt the most.
West could do anything if he put his mind to it, but plainly he didn’t want to put his mind to loving her. Perhaps it was selfish of her to want that from him, especially given how much shit he’d gone through with his sister. Perhaps she should just accept it and put it behind her, try to move on.
She jabbed at the button again, as if that would make the fucking thing come quicker. But it must have had some effect, because the door suddenly opened and mercifully there was no one inside, so she stepped in.
She’d go to the bar. Order a martini maybe and sit there until she knew West and Jenkins had gone, and then go back up to the room. Spend the night here, maybe even a couple. Hang out by the pool and try and pull herself together, figure out what she was going to do now.
The elevator doors closed, the car beginning to move down.
Rose stared sightlessly at the metal doors in front of her.
One thing was for certain: she couldn’t go back to Austin. She couldn’t go home, not where he was. Perhaps she wouldn’t ever go back. Lily would hate that, but Lily hadn’t had her heart broken. Lily hadn’t fallen in love with a man who didn’t love her in return. Who didn’t want to love her in return.
And she wasn’t going to sit there behind her desk, pining away. Wanting something she could never have, not again. That’s all she’d been doing since she was sixteen years old and, well, she was done with it.
Rose swallowed and wiped away her tears, something hardening inside her.
West had given her a taste of what she could have and perhaps, even a week ago, she might have thought that him not choosing her meant she wasn’t good enough for him. But she didn’t believe that now. He’d shown her what she deserved and now she knew what that felt like, she wasn’t going to settle for anything less. She was worth more than that and he’d shown her how much more.
The elevator chimed and the doors opened.
Rose lifted her chin and strode through them, and into the rest of her life.
12
The drive back to Austin from Vegas was long, hot and unrelentingly grim. Ian was a surly companion who kept needling West whenever he could, so West put on some opera. Really, really loud. Which shut the guy up.
Unfortunately, though, the opera only reminded West of Rose. Of her calling it ‘old man’ music while her little feet tapped away on the dashboard.
The thought made him ache. In fact, the entire fucking journey home made him ache, but he told himself he didn’t feel a thing.
He just hoped her trip back to Austin was better than his.
After she’d gone, he’d felt like someone had jumped up and down on his rib cage, but he’d tried to ignore the feeling as he’d dragged Ian out of the hotel room and down to the car.
Rose had been nowhere in sight; she’d probably headed off to the airport. He hadn’t been able to stop himself from checking to make sure she was okay – even though he’d been the one to drive her away – and had ended up texting her, telling her to let him know when she got home safely.
Unsurprisingly, she hadn’t replied.
The first night after Vegas, he’d stopped in some shitty, one-horse town off the interstate, and after making sure Ian was locked down for the night, had called Duchess to check up on Rose.
Duchess had told him that she’d gotten a couple of texts from Rose, letting her know that Rose had decided to stay in Vegas a few days extra. Rose hadn’t explained why, but had assured Duchess she was okay.
West’s gut clenched tight at the news and he hadn’t said anything, not trusting himself to speak. Duchess, clearly picking up on his tension, had asked him whether everything was okay, forcing him to say that of course it was.
Rose was in love with him, but shit, she’d get over it. Christ, she was only twenty-one, so what the hell did she know about love anyway? He was only the second guy she’d slept with, so perhaps she was confusing great sex with love.
Sure, undersell her. You’re good at doing that.
He’d ignored that thought, too, as he’d ended the call, telling himself that with any luck Rose was right at this very minute flirting with some guy and trying to forget about West in the time-honored fashion.
He should have found that comforting, yet it wasn’t. It just made him want to break things.
Back in Austin, he’d thought that giving Ian to the police would help him feel better about everything, yet after he’d handed the asshole over, he only felt shittier.
You really thought you’d feel okay? That everything would go back to normal?
Fuck, he didn’t know what he thought anymore. He only knew that handing Ian over hadn’t changed anything. Carly was still fucked-up and his father still blamed him. Rose was gone. And he was still angry.
And so, he’d made a decision. It wasn’t an easy one and one Duchess in particular wouldn’t like, but it was for the best.
However, when he got back to Duchess Bail Bonds, he had a moment where something kicked hard in his chest at the sight of the reception desk with no bouncy blonde figure behind it, giving him sass and naughty glances from underneath her lashes. But he shoved the pain away, moving past the empty desk and on toward Duchess’s office.
She was on the phone when he pushed open her door, her color high, ice-blue eyes glittering with what looked like anger and something else he couldn’t decipher. Whoever she was talking to, it wasn’t a pleasant conversation.
She held up a finger as he closed the door behind him, and he nodded, heading over to one of the chairs opposite her desk. Then after a moment, decided he wasn’t going to sit after all, not with the news he was going to deliver.
He was going to tell her what had happened with Rose, take some responsibility for it. Then he’d hand in his resignation.
Duchess finished up her conversation, disconnecting the call then putting the phone down on her desk with exaggerated care. “So, I take it Jenkins is safely back in custody?”
“Yeah, I delivered him to the cops fifteen minutes ago.” He glanced at her phone, then back at her again. “Trouble?”
“Nothing I can’t handle. Did you have any difficulties?”
So far, so Duchess. Well, if she didn’t want to talk about that phone call, then he wasn’t going to insist. It wasn’t like he’d be around to do anything to help her anyway.
“No.” He folded his arms. “At least not with Jenkins. There were…other difficulties.”
Duchess let out a breath and leaned back in her chair. “Don’t tell me. Rose. What’s she done now?”
West looked straight into his boss’s eyes. “Not a thing. She was nothing but an asset the whole mission.”
“Oh.” Surprise rippled across Duchess’s finely carved features. “So, what were these difficulties then?”
“They involved me.” He paused. “And her.”
Duchess blinked, a crease appearing between her fair brows. “You and her? What do you mean?”
“I think you know what I’m talking about.”
A silenc
e fell.
Slowly, Duchess leaned forward in her chair, her elbows on her desk, her gaze sharp as a knife. “West, I think you need to explain. And be sure to use very, very small words in case I miss something.”
“I slept with your sister,” West said flatly.
Another silence, the look in her eyes getting sharper and sharper.
“Please tell me you didn’t just say what I thought you said.” Each word was like cut glass, ringing with icy clarity.
“I slept with Rose,” West repeated, so she fully understood. “It was a mutual decision. Both of us wanted it.”
Duchess blinked, slowly. There was no expression at all on her face.
“If you’re going to get angry with anyone,” West went on, “you can get angry with me. Yes, she’s much younger than I am. Yes, she’s your sister. And yes, we work together. And yes—”
“She’s in love with you,” Duchess interrupted. “You did know that, didn’t you?”
He didn’t flinch. “Yes, I did know that.”
“And yet you slept with her anyway.”
“I told her I could never offer her—”
“She’s twenty-one!” Duchess was on her feet and if he’d thought he’d seen anger in her eyes before, it was nothing compared to the sudden blaze of fury that exploded in them now. “She’s young and naïve, and she has no idea what she’s doing! You really expect her to know that when a man says he can’t give her what she wants, she’ll understand that?”
“You underestimate her,” he snapped, defensive of Rose all of a sudden. “Both of us did. Everyone does. Yes, she’s young, but she’s not naïve. She knew what she wanted, and she went out and got it. And I should have been man enough to give it to her. But I couldn’t.” He gritted his teeth. “She deserves better than me, Duchess.”
“Damn right she does,” The glitter in Duchess’s eyes reminded him of Rose so acutely he could barely breathe. “Jesus Christ, if I was a man, I’d punch you in the face right now. Actually, who cares that I’m not a man? I might just punch you in the face anyway.”
West tried to get rid of the tension in his body, tried to relax, and failed. “Do it,” he said. “I’ll let you.”
Duchess put her hands on the desk, staring at him, and for a second, he was positive she was going to come around the side of it and make good on the threat. Then, she let out a breath before inhaling again, visibly controlling herself.
“Why West?” she asked. “Why would you do that to her?”
There were a lot of reasons he could give her. But they were all stupid ones.
What? The ones you tell yourself? Those fucking bullshit lies?
“Because I can’t give her what she wants,” he said automatically, hating how the words tasted on his tongue. “She needs a man who’ll give her the love she deserves.”
Duchess frowned. “And you don’t love her? Is that what you’re saying?”
He gave a low, bitter laugh. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m saying.”
Speaking of lies, that’s just one of them. Of course, you love her. You’ve been in love with her for days. Why else are you denying it so hard? Why else are you feeling so shitty?
West went still, the knife inside him sliding straight through his heart and out the other side, leaving a great gaping wound behind it. While her sister kept on staring at him from behind her desk.
No, of course, he didn’t love her. He really didn’t. He couldn’t. He didn’t want to.
“I’m resigning,” he forced out, his voice harsh. “I can’t stay here, not anymore.”
Duchess said nothing.
“I can’t,” he insisted, the words sounding hollow. “I can’t work with her around. I can’t sit here knowing she’s in pain and knowing that I’m cause.”
“So, you’d rather run away.” There was an uncompromising look on Duchess’s face, which was very her. She never pulled her punches. “You’re so afraid of your own feelings, you’d rather leave than deal.”
Rose called you a coward; she was right.
Maybe. But caring hurt. Love hurt. And he hadn’t had a choice in loving his sister, but he could make the choice with Rose. He could choose not to love her. Because if something happened to her the way that it had happened to Carly…
It had the potential to destroy him.
“There are no feelings,” he said, lying through his teeth. “None at all.”
Duchess’s cool blue stare looked straight through him. “Sure. You’re leaving because you don’t care about her. Because you have no feelings at all. That makes total sense.”
Loving Rose isn’t a choice, you fucking idiot. You already love her. You’ve loved her for months, maybe even years.
Something shifted in his chest, something painful. An admission he didn’t want to make. A truth he didn’t want to acknowledge.
Rose mattered. Rose had always mattered. And the destruction it would wreck in him if something happened to her, wasn’t just potential. It was a fully realized fact.
Because you do love her, asshole.
He stared at Duchess, his heart a mass of pain. And he hadn’t realized he’d been going to speak until the words came out. “I’m afraid.”
Duchess’s expression softened. “Well, who wouldn’t be? But what’s more important, West? Rose? Or your fear?”
He knew the answer to that. He’d always known.
Rose, who’d told him that he wasn’t a bad man.
Rose, who’d put him up on a pedestal and kept him there.
Rose, who loved him.
He hadn’t wanted to love her, but it had come for him all the same, and even though caring might hurt, he also knew that caring was Rose. And she’d never made him feel anything but good.
Abruptly he turned around.
“Where are you going?” Duchess demanded.
“To go and love your sister,” West threw over his shoulder. “Don’t wait. I may be some time.”
With any luck he could convince Rose that it would be forever.
Rose sat by the pool at Caesar’s Palace and decided Vegas sucked. She’d spent the last couple of nights slumped in bed in her hotel room, surrounded by the detritus of the mini bar, watching bad cartoons and soaps on cable, determined to put together the remains of her broken heart. But it was slow going.
So, day three and she’d decided to venture out, hoping some sun and a swim might make her feel better. Yet it wasn’t until she was sitting out on her sun lounger that she realized being out here wasn’t any better than being inside.
In fact, it was worse. Everyone was happy. Everyone was having fun. There seemed to be way more people than normal snuggling up to each other or flirting with each other, and that made her want to hurl.
She’d thought – after the first miserable half an hour – that maybe what she needed was a little rebound action and so she’d spent a good ten minutes scoping out any likely looking male specimens she wouldn’t be too upset about being with.
Only to find absolutely no one.
Oh, there were plenty of hotties around, but none of them were as tall and as broad as West. None of them had shorn blond hair or sharp, dangerous gray eyes, or a slow and sexy Texas drawl. And none of them had a smile that could make her heart turn over in her chest or a touch that could make her breath catch.
None of them were him and that was the real problem.
So far, her plan to get on with the rest of her life wasn’t going well.
Several guys tried to approach her, but she only scowled at them and they soon got the message, and left her alone.
She didn’t know why she was sitting here when it wasn’t making her feel better. Especially when sitting still wasn’t her thing at all. Then again, pretty much nothing was going to make her feel better so what was the point doing anything? May as well sit and hate the entire world out in the sun, instead of sitting in a darkened hotel room hating it. At least if she was outside, she was marginally less pathetic.
S
he’d opened a couple of texts to Lily to tell her she wasn’t planning on returning to Austin, only to end up deleting them. It seemed wrong to tell her sister via text, which meant she was going to have to return at some point and tell her face to face. She didn’t relish the thought, but she’d have to suck it up for Lily’s sake. Perhaps she’d avoid the office. The rest of them would be annoyed at her suddenly vanishing, but hey, they couldn’t have everything. And as to what West thought about that, well…she didn’t care.
A ripple of awareness passed through a group of women sitting on the opposite side of the pool. There were lots of head-turnings and leaning-ins to whisper in ears, and more than a few smiles. Must be some hot dude passing by.
Up for some distraction, Rose glanced their way.
And the shreds of her heart throbbed painfully inside her chest.
Because a man was striding along beside the pool, tall and broad and muscled in jeans and a white T-shirt. He had blonde hair shorn close to his skull, roughly handsome features, the sun glinting off the shades covering his eyes. He moved with smooth athletic grace, with purpose, a man on a mission.
West.
And he was coming straight for her.
She stared stupidly at him, her brain screaming at her to get up and leave, grab what she could and get out of here before he could get to her, before he could hurt her again. But her body refused to obey, simply sitting there on the sun lounger as if it suddenly couldn’t remember how to move.
She shivered, pain coiling inside her, along with a longing so fierce it brought tears to her eyes.
He stopped in front of her lounger and lifted his shades. His gaze met hers and it wasn’t that sharp, metallic look in it this time, but something else. Something hotter, fiercer. More intense.
“What the hell are you doing here?” she croaked, making a grab for her towel and pulling it over her in a silly protective gesture.
“Duchess said you were having a few days in Vegas,” he said in that deep, beautiful, liquid honey voice of his. “Hoped you’d be staying here.”
Big Bad Marine Page 17