The Scent of Roses: A Dark Mafia Romance (Dark Romeo Book 2)

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The Scent of Roses: A Dark Mafia Romance (Dark Romeo Book 2) Page 12

by Sienna Blake

My father’s chair creaked as he sank back into it. “I’ll have a plainclothes officer stationed at your apartment building while you’re off duty.”

  I could feel the protective walls clanging up around me, just as they had for the years after my mother died. My father had gotten so strict and paranoid he barely let me out of the house then.

  How would you see Roman again if you were being watched?

  I shoved that inappropriate thought aside. “I don’t need a bodyguard,” I said firmly, “I have a gun.”

  “If somebody’s trying to kidnap you—”

  “It was probably a random attack,” I lied. I hadn’t told them about the attempted rape.

  “And if it wasn’t?”

  “I managed to thwart the attempt last night, I will thwart the next one if it comes.” My voice began to rise. “I will not be made a prisoner.” Again.

  My father looked at Espo, obviously trying to garner some support.

  I stared at him with my own unspoken plea. Please, Espo. Don’t let him cage me.

  Espo took his time in speaking. “Obviously when she is at work, I’m with her,” he said. “Julianna’s building is secure. As long as I escort her home after work every day and she doesn’t go out alone at night, I don’t see why she needs a protective guard. There’s no evidence that Julianna was even targeted.”

  I had lied to them. I had told them that I had saved myself. I’d made myself sound like a regular G.I. Jane when in fact it was Roman who had been the hero last night. I wondered for a second what they would say if I told them the truth.

  Probably have me committed.

  My father sank his face into his hand and rubbed at his forehead.

  “I’ll be careful, I promise,” I said. “Besides, I know you’re short-staffed. You don’t have a man spare to guard me. How would it look to voters if you took a uniform off his normal duties to play my shadow because of one random attack?”

  My father leveled his stare at me. His lips pressed together. He didn’t like it but I could see the resignation on his face. “Don’t go around alone at night again, okay? I’ll come to your place for dinner from now on.”

  I nodded, relieved that I had managed to escape with my freedom. Espo and I stood to leave.

  “Espinoza, can I have a moment alone with my daughter, please?”

  Espo nodded and left the room. I lowered myself back into the seat, my nerves jumping with anticipation. What did he want to talk to me about?

  Does he not believe my story?

  My father sank back in his chair, his amber eyes watching me carefully from under his bushy brows. Suddenly he seemed so much older now than I remembered him ever being. I could see the weariness in the bags under his eyes, in the permanent crease between his brows. This job was a set of thick chains slung across his shoulders, weighing them down.

  He finally spoke. “I promised your mother that I would look after you. That I would raise you right. Protect you when you needed it.” He let out a soft laugh devoid of any amusement. “I don’t know whether I’ve done a very good job.”

  I straightened in my chair. I wanted to launch from my seat, run around the desk and throw my arms around him. That’s not how our relationship worked. “You did the best job a father could do. But I’m not a little girl anymore. Some things I need to take care of myself. Some things I need to decide for myself.”

  For some reason, I thought of last night when I let Roman into my bed.

  Some mistakes I needed to make by myself.

  * * *

  When I finished work, Espo drove me home. I tried talking to him on the way but he answered in monosyllables. I knew something was up.

  He pulled up outside my apartment building.

  “You gonna tell me what’s up or do I have to beat it out of you?” I said with a light teasing note to my voice.

  Espo glanced at me out of the corner of his eye and pursed his lips. “You gonna tell me what really happened last night or do I have to beat it out of you?”

  I froze. He knew something. I forced a confused look on my face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  He turned his torso to face me completely. “You’re telling me you fought off two grown men with just your fists and your gun. And they both happened to get away before you could cuff them.”

  I gritted my teeth. “Just because I’m a woman doesn’t make me helpless. You of all people know that I can take down a grown man larger than me.”

  “A grown man, yes. Two? That would’ve been a miracle.”

  “Oh ye of little faith.”

  “Don’t give me that. I know when you’re lying.”

  “I’m not lying.”

  “You know, a dirtbag by the name of Tate Jackson was found with his neck broken a few blocks down from where you said you’d been attacked.”

  “Oh yeah? What’s that got to do with me?”

  “You sure you were just off Grosvenor Road when they jumped you?”

  “I am.”

  “It was dark. You could have mistaken the road you took back to your apartment.”

  “I’m not mistaken,” I said through gritted teeth.

  He let out a breath. “Okay. Whatever. You don’t want to tell me what really happened, that’s fine. I’m only your partner.”

  Way to lay down the guilt, Espo. “I told you everything. There’s nothing else to tell.”

  Espo stared for me for a long moment, a hard pinch to the skin around his mouth. “Fine.” The tone of his voice told me it was not fine. “See you tomorrow, partner.”

  I felt like I’d been punched in the chest. I got out of the car, making sure to slam the door hard behind me, and walked into my apartment building without looking back.

  Damn you, Roman, for coming into my life and messing it all up. Now I was outright lying to my father, my friends and my partner. My partner now suspected that something was up with me. I didn’t know how much longer I could keep hiding secrets from them. I just hoped that when it all came out, when it all blew up in my face, no one I cared about got hurt.

  17

  ____________

  Julianna

  Days went by. I didn’t see or hear from Roman. The bitter pit grew in the base of my stomach. I thought that it had meant something for him to stay with me on the night I was attacked. I thought that maybe he cared. Only I’d woken up that next morning to find Roman gone, the only evidence that he’d even been there at all was the hint of his cologne on my sheets.

  The truth was clear. He had stayed out of pity. I thought I was being open and vulnerable with him, instead I’d come off desperate; I had practically begged him to stay. I felt dirty, used, as if we’d slept together. Perhaps it would have been better if we did. Maybe I would have been able to brush it aside as a one-night stand. For the second time. I thought I deserved…something. Not this silence.

  One evening, I found myself at Waverley Cathedral. Instead of walking around the back to the cemetery where my mother lay, I went inside the building. I needed to talk to someone living. I made my inquiries with an altar boy who was cleaning up the rows of old candles and was directed towards a room upstairs.

  The door was already open. Father Laurence was sitting at his desk, pouring over the text of an ancient-looking open book.

  I cleared my throat. “Father Laurence?”

  He looked up, pulling his glasses off the end of his nose. “Julianna.” His face broke into a smile. “Come in, please.” He stood up, his chair making a scraping noise against the stone floor, before he walked around his desk towards me, his church robes swaying around his feet. “What a pleasant surprise.”

  He held out his hands and I took them. They were warm and slightly rough. He squeezed my fingers and leaned in to place a kiss on my cheek. He smelled of the church incense and of old books.

  “I’m sorry to bother you, Father,” I said.

  “Not at all. Come. Sit.” He directed me to an old couch, his visitor’s couch. I’d sat on t
his very couch so many times after my mother had died, just taking comfort in Father Laurence’s presence. My father had been so devastated by my mother’s death that he had no room for my grief. I couldn’t talk to him about her or even say her name. Father Laurence had given me that space I needed to grieve. He had been a confidant ever since. He was the one who gave me the courage to leave home and pursue my dream of joining the police academy.

  Father Laurence studied me as he leaned back against the brown leather. “Now, what’s on your mind?”

  I inhaled and tried to figure out how I was supposed to start. Whether I should even start.

  My eyes came to rest upon the bookshelf made of sturdy wood against the opposite wall. This was new. Filling one shelf was books, their spines reading The Alchemy of Herbs, Herbs for Healing and The Power of Plants. On the other shelves were glass jars filled with dried leaves, roots and flowers. “You’ve started studying plants?”

  “Yes. Plants, herbs and their medicinal uses. But come, Julianna. You didn’t come here to talk about my hobbies.”

  I sighed. “There’s this boy. No, not a boy, far from a boy. He’s most definitely a man Although, he often acts like a boy.” I stopped suddenly, realizing I was rambling.

  “You like him.”

  “Yes. I mean, no.” I let out a frustrated noise. “I don’t know.”

  “And he…likes you?”

  “Sometimes I think so. Then other times… He’s hot, then he’s cold. He’s the most confusing, frustrating man I’ve ever met. He’s bossy and stubborn and jealous and he has such a temper on him. Sometimes I wish I could just…” I shook my hands as if I were choking his neck.

  “I see,” Father Laurence said quite simply.

  Did he? Because I couldn’t.

  “Have you told him how you feel?” he asked.

  Told Roman how I feel? I almost laughed. Then I felt like crying. I squeezed my eyes shut and shook my head.

  “Why not?”

  “I… I don’t think I should. I don’t know if it’s right… But I don’t know how to make this feeling stop.”

  Father Laurence let out a small hum.

  I stayed in the safety of the darkness of my lids until Father Laurence spoke again. “Many years ago, I was in the same position you find yourself in now.” He paused.

  I opened my eyes. Father Laurence was staring at the floor, his eyes misty as he weighed his next words.

  “Did you tell her?” I asked.

  The corners of his mouth turned down. “No.” That single word seemed to contain all the gravity of the world. “I failed to tell the woman I loved that I loved her. I failed to fight for her. Because at the time, I told myself it wasn’t right.”

  “Why not?”

  “At first, it was because I didn’t want to risk the friendship we had. I was scared. Eventually, it was because she married another man. She died before I could tell her.” Father Laurence raised his eyes to mine. I was startled to see they were wet. “It was and still is the single greatest regret of my life.”

  “Father…”

  “Life is over much too soon,” he said. “If you love him, Julianna, don’t hold it back.”

  * * *

  Father Laurence’s words were banging around in my head as I dug around in my bag for my apartment keys. My phone rang. My heart did its usual skip at the thought that it could be Roman.

  It was Christian. He’d already called a few times since our date and I hadn’t returned any of his calls. I debated whether to ignore it. Roman’s ignoring you and look how that’s making you feel. I shoved these feelings inward and picked up the call, juggling the phone and my bag. “Hey, Christian.”

  “I heard about what happened. I can’t believe someone tried to kidnap you. Thank God you’re okay.”

  “How did you…? My father,” I muttered, answering my own question. “Thanks for your concern, Christian. But I’m fine.”

  “What are you doing tonight? What if I come over and make you dinner? You shouldn’t be alone.”

  I opened my door and froze. I wasn’t alone. Roman was standing in my living room, waiting for me.

  18

  ____________

  Julianna

  Roman, as usual, looked incredible in dark denim and a fitted black t-shirt that stretched over his muscled arms. His hair was mussed and he had a scowl on his face, his hands jammed into his pockets.

  I slammed the door shut behind me before one of my neighbors could see him. What was he doing here? Did he forget something? Did he find out something about my attackers?

  “Hello? Julianna?” a distant voice called.

  Shit. Christian was still on the phone.

  “I-I’m fine. Really. Thanks. I gotta go.” I hung up on him. I slid my phone and bag onto the side table. Roman still hadn’t said anything. “What are you doing here?” I asked him.

  “I shouldn’t be here.”

  My eyes darted to the living room windows. He had drawn all the curtains. No one could see in. It was just him and me. Alone. A shiver fell across me. “No, you shouldn’t.”

  “But I don’t care.”

  “What?”

  He just stared at me, hardly blinking. I don’t think I’d ever seen him so serious. “It’s what you do to me.”

  I blinked as my brain struggled to comprehend what the hell he was saying. “What do I do to you?”

  “You make me not care about anyone or anything else. It’s just you, you, you. You’re all I want. You…You make me fucking crazy.”

  My stomach tightened, my head spinning at his admission. You make me crazy too, I wanted to say. I could barely breathe, let alone speak.

  “I’ve tried to figure out,” he began to advance on me, his face beginning to twist, a sharpness to his voice, “what is it about you? Why you? Of all the women to make me…” he trailed off.

  I backed up until I hit the door. He was in my face, crowding me. I could scream, but I was pinned frozen by his wild stare.

  “Why the hell did it have to be you?”

  He wanted me. He didn’t want to want me. Everything twisted inside me from my throat down to my core.

  “I didn’t ask for this either,” I spat out.

  “All the while I thought I was the dangerous one,” he said, his eyes never leaving me. “You had me all fooled.”

  His finger gripped my chin, tilting my face up. His eyes dropped to my lips.

  Kiss me.

  Don’t kiss me. If you kiss me, I’m done for.

  “W-What are you doing?” I whispered.

  “I can’t stay away from you,” he said, sounding pained. “I tried but I can’t.” His gaze rose to pin me with a stare so intense my toes curled. “I’m done trying.”

  Yes.

  No.

  My control. I was losing it. I was slipping.

  Oh God. I am so screwed. I clung on to his words the last time he propositioned me. “You have to understand why I can’t offer you anything…more…”

  I swallowed and forced myself to look away. “No, Roman. One more night between us would—”

  “I don’t want one more night,” he growled, leaning in so that his chest pressed against my swollen breasts. Dear God, he was everywhere. His scent and his heat rolling over me, his breath against my cheeks, his erection pressed against my belly, making my empty core ache. “I want all of them.”

  He wants…what?

  “Give me all of your nights, Julianna,” he murmured against my cheek. “Be with me.”

  My head spun and my heart slammed against my ribs so hard I thought he must feel it. Me. Him. Together. This felt so right. God, but it was so wrong…

  “We don’t make any sense,” I whispered.

  He pulled back to look at me, his eyes glistening with a tenderness I’d not seen before on him. He was standing here, naked and vulnerable before me. “Why does it have to make sense? This isn’t something you plan for. This isn’t something you schedule into your life with someone who m
eets a predetermined set of criteria. It just…happens.”

  “It just happens,” I repeated, feeling the truth echo deep in my heart.

  His fingers traced the bruise at my jaw so tenderly I almost wanted to cry. That was when I realized his fingers were shaking. “A couple of times in your life you meet someone and it just…clicks. Everything just clicks.”

  “Or just once,” I said, barely a whisper.

  A flash of surprise stole across his face. He nodded, barely a nod. “Or just once.”

  He moved for me as I moved for him. Our mouths crashed together. We were hungry and desperate, the frustration and longing built up over the last few days, exploding from ourselves, melting our two bodies together. There was no space between us but somehow I could not get close enough.

  He slammed me up against the door. He tore his mouth from mine and began to bite down my neck as he pushed my shirt up off my body. “I’ve been wanting to fuck you against a door since that day you walked into my apartment wearing that silly red dress. So brazen. So arrogant.”

  “You’re the bastard who answered the door in a goddamn towel,” I hissed back at him, grabbing at his belt and undoing the zipper of his pants. I found his cock waiting for me, thick and hard as a rock. I wrapped a hand around it and he groaned, a noise that rumbled like thunder.

  “You’re the one who showed up unannounced.” He palmed my swollen aching breasts and sucked at the peaks, making me groan. “I knew you wanted me even then.”

  “I did not.”

  “Liar.” To punish me, he bit down on my nipple hard. Pleasure mixed with pain ricocheted through me, causing me to cry out. Wetness pooled in my already damp panties.

  “You are the most arrogant man I’ve ever met.”

  “You are the most frustrating woman I have ever met.” His fingers found my underwear under my skirt and in one swift move, he tore them apart.

  I gasped as cold air hit my bare pussy. “Fuck you. You owe me a pair of panties.” He grabbed my ass and I wrapped my legs around him. I moaned into his mouth and my fingers tangled into his hair, as his erection pressed against my aching core.

 

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