Binding Rose: A Dark Mafia Romance(82)

“Aye. I was going to run upstairs and get a quick shower before lunch anyway. You know what they say, cleanliness is next to godliness.” I wink, walking backwards to the door to make my great escape.

“You see that, lass? That’s the face of the cheeky devil I was telling ye about. Only knows scriptures when it suits him. He would sweet-talk Saint Brigid herself if he thought he could get away with it.”

“I can see that,” Rosa mumbles, her brown eyes turning the same molten hue they did yesterday when her pussy was strangling my cock.

Great.

Not only do I need a shower, now I’ll have to beat my cock into submission, too.

Who am I kidding?

My excuse for taking a shower before lunch was so I could jerk one off anyway. Just knowing she’s so close that I can almost taste her is doing a number on my restraint.

I make a mad dash upstairs, lock myself in my room, and sure enough, five minutes later I’m cumming in my hand with the fantasy of Rosa’s soft lips around my dick. After that, my shower loses all its appeal, and I hurry just to wash the evidence of my weak will off my body, dress up, and hurry downstairs.

I’m just about to close the door to my bedroom when I feel Rosa’s presence in the hallway.

“Hey, petal. What are you doing up here?”

“Your mother told me to fetch you. She wants you to get some red wine from the cellar. Is that your room?” she asks, pointing to where I just left.

“It is. Want me to give you a tour?” I wiggle my eyebrows suggestively.

“I thought it was that one,” she dismisses my poor attempt at getting her alone and points to the bedroom door everyone in this family avoids even looking at.

“That’s Patrick’s,” I mumble, shoving my hands in my jeans pockets.

“Patrick,” she repeats the name, rolling it on her tongue like it’s some secret she should avoid saying out loud.

She’s not that far off.

“Your mom was just talking about him after you left.”

Of course, she was.

Leave it to Ma to only talk about her dead son when neither of her children or Athair can hear her do it.

Rosa takes a step closer to his bedroom door but doesn’t make any move to open it. It’s almost as if she knows that inside all that exists is pain and misery. I bridge the gap between us until I’m standing at her side.

“And what exactly did my mother tell you about him?”

“For one, she said he wasn’t nearly as adventurous as the rest of you. She said he preferred books to climbing trees and riding bikes.”

I let out a sullen sigh.

“Aye, that he did. You would have liked him. He had a kind heart like Ma, too—like you do.”

She turns her head my way, sadness coloring those gorgeous eyes that have seen their own share of suffering.

“But Patrick was too sensitive to survive the kind of life we lead. Too frail. He felt other people’s pain like he was the one who had been wounded.”

“An empath,” she whispers the word like it’s a curse, and in our world, it is. “He’s dead, isn’t he?”

I nod, my shoulders instantly slumping.

“Did I… I mean, did we… I mean,” she struggles to say. “Did my family have anything to do with his death?

“Oh, petal,” I whisper lovingly, cradling her cheek with my palm. “Best leave ghosts where they belong and can’t do you any harm, aye? Life is for the living. It shouldn’t be wasted on the dead. They are at peace now. Can we say the same?”

Her eyes lower from mine, suddenly unable to look me in the eye.

“Shay… about what you said earlier… back in the nursery…”

I shake my head to silence her protest.

“I meant every word, petal. You don’t need a baby to love. I can love you.” Because as unexpected as it is, I think I already do. “You just have to let me. It’s your choice.”

“Tiernan could kill you if he knew you were talking to me like this,” she warns, and I hear the flicker of fear in her voice.

“Let him try.”

Just let the fucker try.





Chapter 17





Colin



“I was starting to think I scared you away,” Rosa muses, trying to garner a reaction from me as we walk through the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum.

I’ve had it on my list of places I wanted to take her to, but after our obligatory conjugal visits these last few weeks, I haven’t been in the right frame of mind to take her anywhere. Thankfully, our noon encounters in apartment 9B back at The Avalon also ensure that most of Rosa’s energy is fully depleted, forcing her to stay indoors for the rest of the day, leaving Darren and his crew to watch over her.

“Well, Colin? Did I scare you off?” she asks again just as we stop in front of one particular painting depicting a full moon on a snowy winter’s day.

“Nothing scares me,” I lie, pretending to be focused on the artist’s handiwork instead of looking at the woman standing by my side.

“Is that true?” she questions curiously, craning her head back to stare at the scar marks on my face. “You’re not afraid of anything?”

“Aye,” I lie again, shrugging her attention off me and walking to another painting further down the corridor.