Chapter 3 Have You Lost All Shame? #2
“We're going to take a bath first,” he said calmly. “Then we'll go to lunch.”
The very next second, he lowered her to the ground.
Rose stepped backward.
Maverick stepped forward.
Before she could move again, her back met the bathroom wall.
His mouth found hers once more, and the kiss quickly stole whatever words she had been about to say. Warm water streamed down over both of them, soaking them completely, but Rose could barely notice it. The heat of his touch seemed far more intense than the water running over her skin.
By the time they finally came out of the bathroom, Rose's legs felt like jelly, and she could barely trust them to hold her weight. Her body was flushed, marked with the lingering evidence of their heated encounter.
Her hair was still wet when she stepped out of the bathroom, a single towel wrapped securely around her chest and falling to her thighs.
Maverick followed behind her.
Before she could take more than a few steps, he walked over, lifted her into his arms, and carried her to the bed.
He lowered her gently onto the mattress.
The roughness he had shown only minutes ago in the bathroom was gone so completely that Rose could hardly believe it was the same man.
He handled her with unexpected care as he lowered her onto the bed, and once she was settled against the mattress, she looked up at him, her damp hair falling loosely around her face.
Maverick planted both hands on either side of her and leaned toward her, his tall frame hovering over her.
With nowhere else to go, Rose instinctively leaned backward until her head touched the mattress.
Her heart began pounding harder at the sudden closeness, each beat loud enough to make her feel as though he must be able to hear it.
His gaze moved slowly across her face before settling on her eyes.
“Wait for me here. I’ll be back in a minute.”
Rose said nothing. Her voice seemed to have disappeared somewhere along the way, leaving her completely unable to form a response.
Maverick leaned down and pressed one last kiss to her lips before straightening. He rose from the bed and walked away, disappearing into the bathroom once again.
Rose remained motionless for several seconds, staring after him. Her heart continued to pound, and every inch of her body felt tense with emotions she couldn't understand. She had never felt anything quite like this before, and the uncertainty only made her more restless.
Then her gaze drifted around the room.
Her clothes from the previous night were scattered across the floor.
Rose immediately sat up. She loosened her grip on the towel, quickly reached for her clothes, and pulled them on as fast as she could. The sound of running water continued from the bathroom, and the longer she listened to it, the more urgently she felt the need to leave.
She slipped off the bed and quietly crossed the room.
After glancing toward the bathroom one last time, she carefully opened the door and slipped outside, closing it behind her without making a sound.
Then she hurried down the stairs.
The party from the previous night was long over.
There was barely any indication that hundreds of people had filled the palace only a few hours earlier.
Everything had already been cleaned and restored to its usual immaculate condition.
The Aurelia Palace was once again silent and pristine, just as one would expect from the Bishops' luxurious property.
Not a single voice could be heard.
Rose's footsteps echoed faintly as she hurried through the empty halls and toward the entrance. The moment she stepped outside, she looked around frantically.
Her heart still pounding, she hurried toward the main street. The moment she spotted a cab approaching, she raised her hand and flagged it down.
She climbed inside and immediately gave the driver her address.
“Drive to Park Avenue and 72nd, please.”
The driver nodded and started the car.
The cab pulled away, carrying Rose farther and farther from the palace.
She sank back against the seat and finally allowed herself to close her eyes.
It didn't help.
The moment her eyes closed, memories of the previous night came rushing back.
Maverick.
His face appeared in her mind so vividly that she immediately opened her eyes again.
But even with her eyes open, she could still see him.
She looked out the window, trying to focus on the passing streets, but her thoughts refused to cooperate. Every few seconds, his face returned to her mind, followed by the memory of his voice, his gaze, and the way he had looked at her.
It was as though Maverick Bishop had somehow taken over every corner of her mind and refused to leave.
Rose pressed a hand against her chest, trying to calm her racing heart.
It didn't work.
Embarrassment rushed through Rose’s face. She covered it with both hands and let out a muffled groan.
“What the hell is wrong with me? How could I sleep with the demon?”
There was only silence in the cab, of course. No one was there to answer her.
By the time the cab finally came to a stop in front of the Monroe house, Rose had managed to calm herself somewhat. The evening had begun to settle over the horizon, the last traces of sunlight fading as the sun dipped lower.
She paid the driver and climbed out of the cab, then hurried up the steps and slipped quietly inside the large house.
Rose closed the door behind her as carefully as possible and began moving through the halls on tiptoe. She glanced around as she walked, checking to make sure no one was nearby. Seeing no one, she continued toward the staircase, hoping she could make it to her bedroom without being noticed.
She had barely taken a few steps when she turned—and nearly walked straight into someone.
Her father was standing directly in front of her.
“Aaaahhhh!”
Rose cried out and instinctively took a step backward, her entire body jolting as she came to an abrupt stop.
Oswald Monroe stared down at her.
He was a man who could intimidate Rose with nothing more than a look. Her father was one of the people she feared the most, and right now, the intensity of his gaze felt as though it were seeing straight through her.
Rose swallowed.
Then, forcing a smile onto her face, she said lightly, “What a coincidence, Dad. I was just looking for you. Were you looking for me too?”
Oswald let out a dismissive huff.
Rose's innocent expression did little to fool him.
His face remained stern as he stared at her, his hands folded behind his back.
There was something intimidating about him despite his age.
The years were visible in the deep lines etched across his forehead and around his eyes, the silver threaded through his dark hair, and the slight sagging of his skin along his jaw.
Yet he remained striking, his broad shoulders still straight, his posture rigid, and his sharp features retaining the commanding presence of a much younger man.
It was enough to make Rose's knees feel weak.
“Where were you last night?” he demanded. “Haven’t I told you that you need to come home on time? You disappeared for the entire night. No calls. No messages. Do you even think about the fact that you have a father sitting at home, worrying about you?”
Rose met his stern gaze with an easy smile and a casual shrug.
“I was at a party with some friends and fell asleep. It’s not a big deal. I didn’t even realize when I nodded off.”
“You should think twice before disappearing for an entire night and leaving your father here to worry.”
Oswald’s voice remained stern, his disapproval clear in every word.
Rose only smiled again before turning toward the staircase.
“Alright, Dad. I’ll see you tomorrow. I’m going up to my room now. I think that’s enough interaction for one day.”
She headed for the stairs, hoping to escape before he could launch into another lecture.
She had barely set one foot on the first step when Oswald’s voice cracked through the hall.
“Disappearing for an entire night and then strolling home like this? Rose Monroe, have you lost all shame?”
Oswald’s words brought Rose to an abrupt halt.
Her entire body stiffened. Slowly, she turned around to face her father, only to find him watching her with a hard, angry expression.
“Come back here, Rose.”
Rose reluctantly descended the step and walked back toward him, forcing a small smile onto her face as she tried to make light of the situation.
“It was just that I fell asleep, but—”
Before she could finish, Oswald pulled out his phone and turned the screen toward her.
Rose fell silent.
Her own photograph stared back at her.
But she wasn’t alone.
Maverick was in the picture with her, his lips pressed against hers. There was no mistaking the intimacy of the moment. Someone had clearly captured the photograph the previous night.
Rose’s eyes widened. Her mouth fell open as she stared at the screen, unable to process what she was seeing.
For several seconds, she could only stand there.
Then she slowly lifted her gaze to her father.
Oswald was staring at her, his expression stern and furious.
“So this is where you were last night?” he demanded. “And this is your friend? This is what you were doing with your friends?”
Rose swallowed hard.
“You said you fell asleep.” His voice grew colder. “You lied to your father and then sneaked into this house like a thief. Is this what I taught you?”
Rose was still struggling to process the fact that someone had photographed her and Maverick. Heat rushed into her face as embarrassment burned through her. She glanced at the phone again before forcing out an awkward laugh.
“It was just a one-night thing. An accidental slip. I was drunk, and it just happened. It’s not a big deal, so don’t worry about it. It’s over now. Everything is over.”
She gave him another nervous smile, hoping he would let the matter go.
Instead, Oswald’s expression hardened.
“Is that what I taught you when you were a young girl?”
Rose’s shoulders flinched at the sharpness in his voice.