The Dahlia Trilogy (The Gilded Flower Series)

by Winslow, Vivian

  “It got worse though, didn’t it? She smashed your windshield or something?”

  “Or something. But I can’t blame her. It’s easy to call her a crazy woman, but it’s the fact that we didn’t communicate that drove her mad in the first place. I had to see that I was to blame. Maybe if I had just listened, it wouldn’t have come to that.”

  “After I went to California, I kept wondering what would’ve happened if I had just told you about Shane and Marissa—if you would’ve understood and if we could’ve worked through it. But I think it all still hurt too much to talk about. After he died, I had to come to face the fact that he and I probably wouldn’t have lasted, especially after I found out about Marissa. I was just reliving some version of my past. I hate that I hurt you in the process.”

  “Shh, Dahlia, we don’t have to talk about that.”

  “But we should, Rodrigo. I want to make sure that you won’t hold it against me—that you forgive me because I don’t want that to hang over our relationship. I need to be with you and not be afraid that you’ll ever punish me for it.”

  Rodrigo closes his eyes and purses his lips. Dahlia recognizes how he always does this when he’s trying to control his anger. After a few beats he says, “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t forgive you, D.”

  “Are you sure?” Dahlia asks, her heart feeling more hopeful and free.

  He nods. “After Claudia called me a few names and calmed down, she told me that she had actually forgiven me. She had realized that rather than accepting that I didn’t love her the same way she loved me, she kept trying to get me to.”

  “So how did this help you?” Dahlia asks.

  “Forgiveness, D. We can only really hurt the people who love us. I hurt her, but I didn’t know how badly until you left me. It was humbling, and it made me angry to be that vulnerable.” Rodrigo pauses for a moment, his dark brown eyes resting on Dahlia’s face. “But it freed me.”

  “Really?” Dahlia asks, swallowing, inching closer to Rodrigo.

  “When you can accept that you can love someone so profoundly that they have the power to hurt you, you have no choice but to give into it.” He moves closer to Dahlia until they are inches apart, water rippling around them.

  “The experience is worth the risk of them not loving you back,” Rodrigo continues in a low voice, “Don’t you think?”

  Dahlia nods, and smiles. She cups his face in her hands and brings her lips to his. He parts them slightly, her tongue finding his. “It’s so worth it,” she replies, feeling her fears banished and replaced by love and lust for him. She bites his lower lip then runs her tongue along the top and bottom, wetting them with her saliva before crashing her mouth onto his.

  They take the kiss deeper, and slower. This isn’t make-up sex. They have time now, more than enough to make up for those months apart.

  She lowers herself gradually over his waiting cock, feeling sore from the intense sex they had earlier that night.

  “I’ll never get over how incredibly sexy you are,” he says, kissing her neck and her chest.

  Dahlia grips the sides of the tub to steady herself over him as he rocks himself into her, deep and slow this time.

  They keep up the steady rhythm, water washing over them and running down to the floor.

  As Dahlia feels her release overwhelm her, she presses her nails into Rodrigo’s shoulders. He squeezes her ass, lifting her up and down his slippery cock. “That’s right, D. I want this too,” he groans.

  She continues to ride him calling out his name. Her cries echo off the walls of the bathroom until she feels her body coming apart over his cock.

  Rodrigo holds her tight and still over him as he lets go and comes inside Dahlia, feeling her cunt pulling and sucking at him until he’s spent.

  “Te amo hasta el fin,” he whispers.

  Dahlia gazes down at him, her heart filling with love for this man who had just professed his undying love for her. Never again will she doubt where she belongs.

  Chapter 63

  “Don’t you think Miami can wait a bit?” Dahlia asks, watching Rodrigo pack his suitcase.

  He bends down and kisses Dahlia. “It’s only a few days, D, I promise. I was thinking that when I come back, maybe I’ll stay until Christmas.”

  “Just until then?” Dahlia asks, unable to mask her disappointment. She clears her throat and tries to regain her footing. “I mean, of course. It’s only fair after what we went through. If you’d rather take this slow, I understand.”

  “No, baby, I don’t think you do,” he replies, dropping a belt into his bag, then slowly walking over to her. He places his hands on her shoulders and pulls her in for a long kiss. When they come up for air he says, “I want everything, and I want it now. But we have a wedding to be at, remember?”

  Dahlia nods, her happiness having eclipsed her thoughts about Lily’s big day. “Right. It’s not something we can miss.” She runs her hands up his chest and curls them around his neck. Leaning into him she says, “I have a feeling we’ll have a lot of fun at the wedding.”

  Rodrigo smiles mischievously, squeezing her ass. “I’ve no doubt we will.” He releases her from his hold and takes her hands. “Then I think we should start our New Year together here, in our home.”

  Dahlia’s jaw drops. “Are you . . . are you sure you’re up for that?” She stammers.

  He looks over in the direction of Dahlia’s closet. “Of course, I am.” Rodrigo’s expression turns serious. “Although I’m not sure if you have enough space for me.” He leans down and kisses her neck, sending a pulse of desire through Dahlia.

  “You have more clothes than I do.” She points out, moving her neck to give him greater access.

  “True.” He pauses when he reaches her ear and whispers, “So what do you say to getting a bigger closet?”

  “What are you suggesting?” She asks, taking a step back, her heart racing. But she won’t listen to her fears. Dahlia’s ready for this. Her past is just that. Her future is standing right before her.

  Rodrigo shrugs and smiles coyly. “Maybe a new place in the New Year for us.”

  She smiles up at him, warming at the thought of them living together.

  He picks her up and spins her around, pulling her into a passionate embrace. “I just want something big for my family . . . and our family.”

  Dahlia grins, unable to contain her excitement at finally being able to be with Rodrigo, no secrets, and no baggage.

  He presses himself into her so she can feel his need for her in this moment. “What would you say if I told you that I have an hour before I have to leave,” he says in a husky voice.

  “I’d say that that gives us just enough time,” Dahlia replies, her tongue running over Rodrigo’s lips

  The buzzing of the doorbell brings Dahlia out of her spell. “I knew you couldn’t stay away,” she says, opening the door a couple of hours later. But it isn’t Rodrigo. A courier hands her a small envelope and quickly walks away before she can get a good look at his face.

  She shuts the door behind her, her hands trembling a bit as she carries the package into her living room.

  Dahlia tears it open carefully and pours the contents onto her coffee table. She picks up the small black pen drive and studies it carefully not recognizing it as any she’s seen before. Her stomach fills with dread when she reads the attached note.

  Insurance policy for Vi

  Keep it safe-T

  She paces her living room, trying to clear her head and think. Finally, she tears up the note, throwing it into the garbage disposal and places the flash drive in the one place she could think of—the vase on a side table her mother had admired only weeks before.

  Epilogue

  “My God, D, what is this mess?” Vi asks, casually picking up and tossing magazines strewn about the apartment.

  “Sorry,” Dahlia says, gathering up the clutter. “Rodrigo suggested we’d need a bigger place.” I swear his wardrobe would take up most of this apartment.�
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  “Oh, hon, that’s so nice. I love the idea of you two playing house.”

  “That sounds just a tad bitchy, Vi. Is everything okay?”

  “That’s not what I meant, D. Tell me, what are you thinking?”

  Dahlia shrugs. “I’m considering a brownstone since he wants a lot of space, but I’m not sure. I’ve only ever lived in an apartment.”

  “Your family’s apartment could hardly be considered simple living,” Vi replies. “Whatever you do, don’t move to Brooklyn. It’s too far, and just too hipster chic. I wouldn’t be able to keep up or visit.”

  Dahlia laughs. “Don’t worry, it’ll be here in the Village or maybe close to Lily’s place.”

  “Ooooh, venturing into enemy territory. Your parents are only a few blocks from her. Watch out.”

  Dahlia rolls her eyes. “Tell me about it. In any case, we’ll see what we find,” Dahlia says, joining Vi on the white sofa.

  “Have you two set a date?”

  “A date for what?”

  “Oh, please, you and Rodrigo, D. You know you’re going to get married.”

  Dahlia shakes her head. “It’s too soon, Vi. I’m still working on a schedule to see Marissa on a regular basis. Besides, we still need to get through Lily’s wedding first. Have you decided what we should do for the bachelorette party?”

  Vi pauses for a moment. “I’m tapped out. December travel can feel uninspired with everyone traveling to see family or get away from them. Maybe we keep it close, like Cabo or something. I’ll have a think.” She pauses and waves her hand in Dahlia’s direction, noticing Dahlia still dressed in soft thermal sweats and a cashmere and silk top. “You know it’s only acceptable to go to dinner in your pajamas in LA.”

  “I thought we’d stay in.” Dahlia shrugs. She gets up and reaches into the vase. Holding up the pen drive she says, “By the way, any idea why this is in my possession?”

  Vi’s eyes grow wide. “Where did you get that?” She asks, barely audible.

  “It arrived by courier earlier today.”

  Vi stands quickly, “I’ve got to go.”

  “What am I supposed to do with this?” Dahlia asks.

  “Hide it and forget you ever saw it,” Vi replies, the door slamming behind her.

  Acknowledgements

  There are so many things that go into writing a book that have little to do with sitting down and writing. First it’s the inspiration, an idea, or even the inkling of an idea that is sparked by experience, a memory or dream, or a person. I want to thank my husband, first and foremost, for sharing numerous adventures with me that have inspired my stories, as well as his tireless support. I’d also like to thank my children. While more often than not they keep me from writing, they inspire me every day.

  Aside from ideas, there are the friends who make you feel as if anything is possible and that how you execute it, however messy and awful, is the most terrific thing you’ve ever done. Sara and Lisa, you two crazy bitches make me feel invincible.

  Of course, I seem to find crazy bitches wherever I go. Karen and Lucia, you two troublemakers have made my years in New York City memorable. Promise me to never share those pictures.

  Then there is that one friend who not only tells you that what you do is wonderful—even if she thinks otherwise—is willing to go along for the ride. Suzann, I will be eternally grateful to the universe for sending you to me. Thank you for holding my hand and encouraging me every step of the way.

  Sonja, we’ll always have Paris . . .and Chicago, and New York. Thank you for all the profound experiences we had together.

  And of course, the family who’s had my back since I took my first steps. Of course you weren’t surprised to find out that I write those kinds of books—and I wouldn’t presume they’d read them. That my sisters-in-law do read them means the world to me. B and K, thank you for being a part of my family and for reading my books.

  Last, but certainly not least, my deepest gratitude to my fans, readers and bloggers who feature my books. This series is for you! I am incredibly humbled and grateful to you all for your support and your kick-ass reviews. There are so many books out there. That you’ve found mine and enjoyed them enough to write a review or buy these books means the world to me. Thank you, thank you, thank you!

  About the Author

  Vivian Winslow was born and raised in Southern California. Before becoming a writer, she made a career out of moving around the world every couple of years thanks to her husband’s job. She currently lives in New York City with her husband and two elementary school age children, and is grateful to finally have a place to call home for more than two years. New York is the perfect city to indulge her love of shopping, the arts and especially food. If she’s not at home writing or running around the city with her kids, you’ll most likely find her indulging in pizza on the Lower East Side or having a cocktail at her favorite bar in Alphabet City. That said, she’s still a California girl at heart and would gladly trade in her heels for a pair of flip-flops to catch a sunset on the beach.

  You can connect with Vivian at:

  http://www.vivianwinslow.com

  https://www.facebook.com/vivianwinslowauthor

  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8183361.Vivian_Winslow

  https://twitter.com/VivWinslow

  http://www.pinterest.com/VivWinslow/

  Amazon Author page - http://amzn.to/1p4dE3N