Stealing Rose (The Fowler Sisters #2)(20)

“Likewise.” He smiles but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and the disappointment that hits me as I watch Whitney put her arm around his shoulders and nuzzle his cheek with her nose almost makes me sag in defeat.

Almost.

Instead, I stand a little straighter and glance over at my sister, giving her a look that says plenty without having to utter a word. She rushes over to my side, asking Ryder to order me a beer, and I let her take over, finding me a seat, offering me a menu as she settles beside me and leans in close, her gaze imploring.

I tilt my head, my lips at her ear. “I know him.”

“Who?” She scrunches her brows, confused.

Dipping closer, I practically eat her ear as I whisper, “Caden.”

“How?”

Pressing my lips together, I move away from her, shaking my head. Can I tell her who he is? She’ll be shocked and heaven forbid, she might go to Whitney and ask about Caden. The last thing I want to happen.

He doesn’t deserve my attention and least of all, my interest. I am absolutely, 100 percent not interested in him. Not at all.

Nope.

So it means nothing that I polish off my beer in about five minutes after receiving it. And that I order a steak dinner—make that rare—and eat it with relish, drinking another beer … and then another. I’m laughing and joking with Ryder and one of his friends—his name is Nigel and he’s cute as can be, but I’m afraid he might play for the other team. Or maybe he doesn’t; I don’t know. But they help me forget, Ryder and Nigel. And Violet.

Yes, I’ve forgotten all about my mysterious, handsome not-a-stranger. How every time I glance in his direction he’s watching me. At first he looked away, as if he didn’t want to be caught.

But after about the tenth meeting of gazes, he doesn’t even blink. He’s blatantly staring at me and I can’t look away. Violet is engaged in some deep conversation with Whitney—God, I hate her and I don’t even know her, what is wrong with me?—and Ryder is listening to some work story Nigel is telling.

I’m staring. Caught. Trapped by his gaze, and I want to be. My head is spinning. My body is … aching. Caden’s gaze drops to my mouth, lingering there for what feels like forever, and my lips tingle. As if he’s just kissed them. And then his gaze drops lower, to my chest, and my nipples harden. Like I have no control over them, which I really don’t since I’m not wearing a bra and whoops, I’m not wearing panties, either, because I wanted to feel young and flirty tonight.

It’s as if my body knew and prepared itself. The restlessness has hit me full force and I squirm in my chair, my heavy breasts brushing against the thin fabric of my dress almost painful.

I can’t take it.

Touching Ryder’s arm, he turns to look at me questioningly and I murmur, “I’ll be right back.”

He frowns. “You okay?”

“Just going to the ladies’,” I reassure him as I get up and leave the table.

I can feel Caden’s eyes on me as I walk away, and I’m tempted to look back so I can gauge his reaction.

But I don’t look back. I won’t give him the satisfaction. I stare straight ahead, making my way through the crowded pub, toward the hall on the opposite end of the room where the bathrooms are located.

Once I make it inside, I brace my hands on the edge of the counter and stare at myself in the mirror. Again. Just like earlier, before I left my hotel room. Though now I look different. My cheeks are flushed, as is the skin on my chest, and my nipples are still poking against the fabric of my dress. My hair has lost some of its curl and my eyes sparkle with an almost unnatural glow.

I look drunk.

I look aroused.

I am definitely both.

The door swings open and my gaze darts to the doorway in the mirror’s reflection, my mouth dropping open in shock before I whirl around. “What are you doing?”

Caden closes the door and leans against it, his arm sneaking out behind him to turn the lock. He doesn’t answer my question. He doesn’t say a word as he pushes away from the door and stalks toward me. His stride is predatory, his expression full of dark intent.

I grip the counter, my fingers tight around the tiled edge, my knees weakening as he draws closer. The scent of him—citrusy and clean—washes over me and I part my lips, the protest dying when he reaches out and touches my cheek. His touch is gentle, his fingertips rough as they slide across my skin, into my hair. My eyelids waver and my vision grows fuzzy when he presses his body to mine and dips his head, his mouth hovering above mine. His breath wafts over my lips and pleasure swamps me, settling between my legs, making me damp.

Making me weak.

Chapter Six

Caden

The moment we arrived at the pub and Whitney introduced me to Violet and Ryder, Violet mentioned her sister would be joining us later.

And I knew she wasn’t referring to Lily.

It was still a shock, seeing Rose approach the table. I thought her stunning the night of the movie premiere but seeing her now, in her pretty little dress that exposes a lot of leg, her hair down and her entire appearance so natural …

Seeing her in those first few stunned minutes, I felt … entranced. Intoxicated, and I hadn’t even had a drink yet. She was just so pretty, her skin damn near glowed. Everything about her was perfection, at least in my eyes, and I physically yearned to be close to her.