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“I’ll put you down when we get to my car,” I growl.
“You’re a bastard! The worst boss ever!” she screams, drawing attention from some guys that have spilled out from one of the bars on the opposite side of the street.
“What’s going on?” one yells.
Rose’s attack on my back ceases.
“You want them to call the cops and send me back to jail. Now’s your chance. Tell them I’m taking you against your will.” I slow my pace as we draw level with the group of men, and she lifts her upper body away from my back.
“Nothing. Mind our own business,” she shouts at them, flopping herself back down again with a cross between a frustrated scream and a sigh.
I stroke her thighs with one hand. “Thought not. Now let’s get you home.”
Chapter 16
Rose
TheRangeRoverhasn’teven come to a complete stop before I throw open the door and jump out, leaving it wide open behind me.
“Rose!” Dax flies out of the vehicle and is behind me in a flash.
“I’m back now. So you can fuck off!”
I slide my key into the cottage’s lock and turn it. Dax stands behind me and wraps his hand over mine.
“You know why I had to bring you home.” His breath fans over my neck, and my nipples harden despite wanting to hate him right now.
“This isn’t my home.”
I turn to face him. His dark eyes are there, waiting to capture mine and make it impossible to look away as they reach right down deep inside me and make me feel both exhilaration and a strange calmness all at once.
“You brought me back because you think you have some claim over me. Some right to say what I do. When you don’t. You have no right to anything. So go on,” I say, trying to sound braver than the churning that’s happening inside my stomach at the thought of being alone once he leaves. “You can go now.”
I turn back to the door, opening it.
“I can just go back out if I feel like it, anyway. This time without being spied on by your fancy car trackers.”
“You wouldn’t,” he grits, and his eyes are dark and stormy as I turn and glance at him.
“I might.”
Then I slam the door in his face before he can move and collapse back against it, my chest heaving.
Who the hell does he think he is? He storms into the bar, does his whole listening and caring act that he’s so good at, and then acts like a prize jerk and orders me to come back. No, make that, swings me over his shoulder and physically carries me back. Asshole.
Ishouldgo back out tonight. It’s still early. I can call a taxi. What’s the alternative? Stay in and drink alone? And it would serve Dax right for thinking he can boss me around. We aren’t at work now.
I head upstairs and pull my work blouse and skirt off, throwing them into the laundry hamper, then get a short black dress out with a skirt that swishes when I dance. I can call Jasmin. She might be up for hitting a club. Somewhere with strong drinks and music loud enough that I can’t hear my own thoughts. It’sexactlywhat I need. Dax knows nothing. The complicated bastard.
I take my time fixing my hair and touching up my makeup.
Damn it. He still has my phone. I gave it to him in the bar.Shit. Think. Think.
I can call on the cottage’s landline. I must have something with Jasmin’s number on somewhere. Some estate paperwork or something.
A loud, incessant banging comes from downstairs.
“Rose? Open the door.”
