by Marina Myles
“Rose,” Patrick called over his shoulder, “let’s go.”
She stood frozen for a moment. What should I do?
She longed to comfort Drago and Patrick both, but her need to be with Drago overshadowed everything else. She stared at him. His smoldering stare bore into her soul, speaking a thousand words, though he never opened his mouth.
“I’m staying,” she murmured in Patrick’s direction.
“You’re what? Rose, you don’t know what that bastard said to me just before he pretended to kill me!”
The officer rolled his eyes and whisked Patrick out of sight. Hushed words of surprise and criticism followed them as the crowd began to filter out of the theater as well.
Now that she was alone with Drago, Rose moved to him. “Are you all right?” She placed a hand to his bruised and battered face. Her eyes welled with tears. “I need to know what you said to Patrick.”
He said nothing. Instead, he took her hand and pressed it to his swollen lips. “Come with me,” he whispered with passion and urgency.
CHAPTER 12
A slew of reporters that hadn’t been allowed in until then attempted to get close to the stage. In the meantime, four ushers barred the side staircases.
As Drago dodged the camera flashes, he shielded his face with his hand and grimaced. Racing into the wings with Rose alongside him, he shouted, “Get their film, Archibald!”
Ducking questions from Katherine and avoiding murmurs from the stage crew, who claimed that the guillotine trick was nothing like it’d been rehearsed, Drago managed to escape with Rose out the side door.
The alley was filled with shadows and the smell of rancid trash but, thankfully, it was void of people. Drago grasped Rose’s hand tightly and directed her around the corner. They spotted a throng of reporters and on-lookers at the front of the theater, lying in wait.
“I grant interviews to reporters on one condition,” Drago said darkly. “No photographs.” He pulled Rose in the opposite direction from the crowd. “We’ll go to my apartment.”
Had Rose lost her mind? She’d dragged Patrick to the theater tonight only to snub him in public. The reality of it convinced her that she had no control over her actions.
She wouldn’t be surprised if Patrick never spoke to her again. And to make matters worse, she was in the center of Drago’s media frenzy.
It took five minutes for them to reach the sanctity of Drago’s apartment building. Never before had Rose been so happy to see a common redbrick structure with tin molding. Still grasping Drago’s hand tightly, she followed him up a flight of stairs to apartment 9G.
After Drago slipped his key into the lock, she stepped inside and gathered her collar about her throat. She’d never been alone with a man inside his home and knew nothing about how to behave. Drago seemed to sense her unease. He offered her a smile as he removed his jacket with slow, pain-filled motions.
“Excuse me while I tend to this gash under my eye. Make yourself comfortable on the divan.”
Rose nodded, but she was too nervous to sit down. She began to pace around the sparsely furnished flat. The spotlessly clean parlor spilled into a tiny kitchen, complete with an icebox and a coal-burning stove.
Curious as to Drago’s likes and dislikes in food, she meandered to the kitchen’s cabinets and took the opportunity to peek inside. They were completely bare!
Isn’t that just like a bachelor? At least she assumed it was.
She settled on the upholstered divan. Instead of displaying personal photos, the walls of the apartment were covered in framed marquee posters of Drago’s shows.
Does Drago have any family or friends? And why is this place darkened by drapes of velvety black? It seemed an odd color for curtains.
Unable to relax, Rose’s mind harkened to the background check Patrick had ordered for Drago. There was no doubt he was mysterious—and unfortunately, the impersonal apartment offered no further insight about his past.
Patrick. Rose knew she’d broken his heart tonight. Would he ever forgive her?
With trembling fingers, she removed her hat and fidgeted with the drawstrings of her handbag. It was infernally hot inside the apartment and the ridiculous layers she was wearing were unnecessary. Deciding she couldn’t stand the stifling fitted jacket and three-tiered jabot any longer, she removed them just as Drago re-entered the room.
His eyes gleamed at the fact that she was removing her clothing.
In turn, Rose’s eyes zeroed in on his swollen lips and the blood-soaked bandage that topped his cheek.
“Your friend packs a powerful punch,” he said as he sat next to her.
“You made him furious. What did you say to him onstage—before the guillotine’s blade fell?”
Drago shrugged, sending stray pieces of brown hair to his cheekbones. “It was nothing. Your suitor despised me from the moment he set eyes on me, so I played with him a little.”
“That wasn’t very nice.” She was sure there was fire in her eyes.
“I know, and I’m sorry.” He exhaled. “I’m just glad you chose to come with me and not go with Patrick.”
A wave of rage rose inside her. “Chose you? Do you think I am here of my own free will?”
Surprise lit Drago’s face. “What are you talking about?”
“Don’t play dumb with me. You hypnotized me—and spoke to me from far away.”
“Why do you think that?”
“Don’t try and deny it.”
“You’re upset—”
“Nothing but unpleasantness has happened since I met you. I’m overwhelmed by this sense that I have no control over my actions. And the rift you’ve caused between me and Patrick is horrendous. It’s all because of my attraction to you—”
His eyes narrowed. “You’re attracted to me?”
“Couldn’t you tell by our kiss?” She buried her face in her hands and started to sob.
Gently, he put an arm around her and allowed her to cry for a long while.
After she stopped, she looked at him somberly. “You don’t understand. You’re all I think about.”
“Does that mean you’d rather be with me than Patrick?”
“Yes,” she said quietly.
“I think that’s what’s infuriating Patrick the most.”
“I hope he’ll forgive me for hurting him,” she replied. “But I need to know. Am I under some sort of trance, Drago? One you are responsible for?”
He spread his hands wide. “You are an intelligent woman. I believe you’ll figure it out.”
“Enough riddles!” she exploded. “I want the truth. Did you hypnotize me into falling in love with you?”
Happiness washed over his face. “You’re in love with me?”
“You’re so exasperating!” She began to cry all over again. “Yes, I am. But I don’t know if my feelings for you are real.”
With a slow, sultry motion, Drago leaned in and began to kiss away her hot tears. “Your feelings are very real, Rose.”
Her eyelids grew heavy and her eyes fluttered shut against his touch.
“They’re real because I love you in return. And I’ll never let you go.”
“You still haven’t given me an answer,” she said hoarsely.
“If I did hypnotize you, do you want me to lift my spell?”
His warmth enveloped her—and because she knew deep down that she would never feel alive without him, all she could do was answer honestly. “No.”
Apparently, that was what he needed to hear. Urging her head upward, he covered her mouth with his. Body aflame, she parted her lips and let his tongue glide forward. Its sweet taste intoxicated her—and as his hand dropped from the curve of her neck to the roundness of her breast, she pressed against it to make his grasp firmer.
In a single scoop, Drago lifted her off the divan and carried her into his bedroom. After he laid her on the bed, he lowered the gas lamp’s flame to a dim glow. Then he stood to remove his shirt and when he joined her on the mattress,
another surge of desire shot through her.
“My rosebud. I want you more than any other woman I’ve ever known. Without you, food has no taste, music holds no gaiety, and life has no meaning. Will you let me show you how much I love you?”
She could only whimper a response. A slip of air separated them and she could smell his masculine scent sweep forward. Reeling with anxiousness, she reached for him and he caressed her lips with his again. Rose put a hand to the angle of his jaw and felt it clench and unclench as his experienced tongue rolled in and out of her mouth. She never knew a kiss could offer so much satisfaction. What carnal delights awaited her when she was finally naked in Drago’s arms?
Naked? My God! Reality rushed over her. What on earth was she doing in this apartment, with this man who was so much older and more experienced than she?
As if he’d read her thoughts, Drago said. “Don’t worry, Rose. This will be our little secret.”
Before she knew it, he was unbuttoning her lace blouse. As his deft fingers moved over the fabric, he continued to devour her with hot kisses. Meanwhile, Rose’s desire for him made her throw her cares to the wind, fueling her willingness.
That sense of empowerment stopped her from freezing with self-consciousness when he exposed her breast.
“Christ,” he said gruffly at the sight. “You’re so damned beautiful.”
She blushed and looked away.
“As you’ve guessed by now, I’m a bad man,” he murmured, just as gruffly. “A man who wants to make love to you hotly. Wickedly.”
The words couldn’t have enflamed Rose more. As he took her peach-colored nipple in his mouth and teased it with his tongue, she suspected that she’d lose her virginity this very day. And she could think of nothing more pleasurable.
She stared at Drago’s face as he worked his magic on her flesh. His lips were moist and supple and his dark skin glimmered in the light.
Releasing his mouth from her nipple, Drago hungrily eased her other breast free of the thin camisole. Then, with a flick of his fingers across both nipples, he made them rise. The sight caused him to moan louder. And by gathering both of her breasts in one hand, he was able to lap his tongue back and forth over her stiff buds while she writhed beneath him anxiously.
After a moment, he glanced up at her and she felt herself melt under his smoldering gaze. “Don’t be nervous, Rose,” he urged. “I won’t hurt you.”
When he slid one hand beneath the folds of her skirt, he found the creaminess between her thighs. She, in turn, felt his thick staff surge forward against her leg. Her heart thundered in her chest but she didn’t dare look down at the bulge in his trousers. She was inexperienced, to say the least, but with this princely Romanian, she was more than eager to learn.
His nostrils flared with passion as he stroked the tops of her thighs. “My sweet. I won’t break the barrier of your chastity, but I want to touch you . . .” After he caressed the silkiness of her blonde fleece, his fingers got completely lost in her flow of passion.
Rose sucked in a breath. His touch felt incredibly sinful. Should I stop him?
In reality, that was the last thing she wanted to do. Refusing to think about what a wayward girl she was being, she closed her eyes. Drago continued to fondle her damp folds and she heard him moan again.
“You’re not ready to taint.” His gravelly voice was at her ear. “But when you are, I hope you’ll give yourself to me willingly. It’ll be a night you won’t forget.”
Rose gulped with excitement. The length of his stone-hard penis protruded against her leg again. As she tried to swallow away a sense of fright, she avoided looking down. That was going to fit inside her someday?
“You can touch me too, if you’d like,” he said.
Before she could respond, Drago reached for her hand. On its journey to the mysterious region of his groin, her hand brushed over the layer of hair on his chest and the rise of his chiseled pectoral muscles. Still grasping her fingers, Drago guided her reach to his thick cock and instructed her as to how to stroke it to a full charge, through his trousers.
“There . . .” his breath quickened.
The experience overwhelmed Rose. Her eyes grew wide—and she wondered if she was doing it all correctly. Fortunately, she didn’t have to wonder long, thanks to Drago’s intense grunts.
When it was apparent that he couldn’t stand the anticipation any longer, he rolled his body on top of hers and kissed her fully on the mouth. The kiss—hot enough to ignite the tiniest speck of gunpowder—kindled their connection even more. Drago rocked his staff forward, and when he pressed it against her center, Rose yearned to feel it between her bare thighs.
“Nothing could bring me greater pleasure than claiming you,” he said in a primal tone. “You’ll let me know when you’re ready, won’t you?”
Driven by lust, she was about to scream out, “Now! I’m ready now!” when a knock at the door rudely interrupted them.
“What the devil?” Drago barked.
“Mr. Starkov?” A woman’s voice reached them in the bedroom.
“Jesus. It’s my landlady,” he told Rose. “Wait here.”
Drago answered the door without a shirt. “What can I do for you, Mrs. Kravitz?”
“Mr. Starkov. Pardon the intrusion, but we have a problem. A crowd has gathered at the front stoop of the building. Reporters are strewn all over the place, chanting your name. I was tempted to go out in my bathrobe to give them a piece of my mind but . . .”
Drago hadn’t unlocked the chain attached to the wall, but had cracked the door open a bit so Mrs. Kravitz could see part of him. “No need to do that. I’ll take care of the situation.”
The elderly busybody made no move to leave. Instead, she seemed perfectly content to stare at the patch of his bare chest visible through the door’s opening. “Of course, when Stanley was alive,” she rattled on, “I would have sent him to take care of such matters.”
“Yes. Please go back to sleep, Mrs. Kravitz.”
She stood there.
“Good night, madam.”
“Oh!” She gathered the collar of her chenille robe around her wrinkled neck. “Then good night to you.”
Before Drago made his way back to the bedroom, Rose studied the items on his bedside table. There was a beautiful, golden bracelet bearing colorful Egyptian designs and a worn, foreign coin. How strange. She was tempted to pick up the coin, but she busied herself with ordering her appearance instead.
When Drago returned, his foul look scared her.
“Did you hear that?” he thundered. “Those vultures discovered where I live!”
“Vultures?” she echoed.
“Reporters.”
“I should go, Drago,” she said as she rose off the bed.
“I guess you should, but we need to get you out of here without being noticed. We don’t want to see your face in the morning newspaper.”
No, we don’t. The backlash Rose received after seeing Drago’s first show was bad enough. Now she wanted to avoid further reproof.
She watched him pull on his shirt and button it before she moved to the window. Brushing aside the dark curtain she said, “There they are.”
She craned her neck to see down to the front stoop of the building. It was covered by a swarm of enthusiastic reporters. “Obviously I can’t leave the way I came in,” she remarked. “Where should I go?”
Drago rolled up his shirtsleeves and planted a quick peck on her cheek. “Follow me. I have an idea.”
Before leaving the tenement, Rose grabbed her belongings and took one last look around. Will I ever have the chance to be alone with Drago here again? If he could bend the path of fate—as he already proved he could—somehow he’d ensure it.
Stepping into the hallway, he led her around the corner. Without speaking, they treaded through another narrow corridor until they reached a dumbwaiter meant for transporting groceries and garbage.
“Only one of us can go up to the roof in this small lift,�
� he said.
“Why can’t I take the stairs?”
“You might encounter a reporter, or worse, Mrs. Kravitz.”
“Will it hold my weight?” Her stomach was a bundle of nerves.
“I think so.”
That wasn’t what she wanted to hear.
Riding the lift up to the roof would be possible even though Rose possessed a debilitating sense of vertigo. Whenever she looked down from a high distance the phobia immediately kicked in and she became paralyzed with fear.
Before she knew it, she was being encouraged into the contraption by Drago’s strong grip. He smiled and wrapped the heavy cords around his hands. “Don’t worry. I’ll distract the crowd somehow. In the meantime, you need to find your way down the back fire escape, all right?”
“I can’t, Drago. I’m afraid of heights.”
He kissed her swiftly. “You must. I promise we’ll see each other again very soon.”
She shot him a feeble smile as he pulled on the ropes. Seconds later, he disappeared from view. Squeezing her eyes shut, Rose jostled around in the rancid-smelling dumbwaiter for six more stories. She held her breath until it came to an abrupt stop on the roof level, where she was able to step out into the warm night air.
Horrified, she inched to the edge of the building, her heart racing. Daring to look down, she discovered that the crowd had developed into an angry mob.
“Drago! Drago!” they chanted impatiently.
She had no idea how Drago intended to break up the chaotic scene, but she was determined to find out.
Lifting her skirts, she serpentined around crates and sun chairs to reach the opposite side of the rooftop. Just as Drago promised, a flight of wrought iron stairs suspended in layers led to the street below. Fear gripped her as she placed one foot on the first step. The fire escape wobbled in and out of view surreally. Rose knew the sensation was part of her vertigo, but the knowledge didn’t help dispel her fright.
She glanced about wildly. There wasn’t an alternate way down.
Telling herself she could do it, that she had to climb down the fire escape, she grabbed the handrail. After closing her eyes, she felt around for the edge of the step with her toes. There! She’d taken her first step down.
