Chapter 17
JULIUS
It is expected of me, and she definitely gives me signals that she’s not immune to my attention, but for some reason I don’t want to rush things with her.
She is unspoilt, which is a rare treasure for a man like me to find, and I am overprotective of her already.
I can’t shake that, and so I am fighting myself along with the rest of them to keep her safe, and firmly away from men like me.
If anything, I would burn down the entire world for her just to keep her safe, and that is what I am struggling with.
We hit the road at nine am and, true to my word, I ran her a deep bath, shocked at how considerate I am of her needs.
I have never been that man or wanted to be, but Rose makes me see everything differently.
I tread carefully with her because if she gazed at me through those beautiful eyes with anything but happiness, I would consider I had failed at life.
We begin our journey, and she is good company.
Pointing out nature’s treasures and telling me about life in the convent.
I allow her to talk, to get comfortable with me, but the main topic of conversation in my mind is the hellish life she has lived until now.
If she has demons, I want to be the one to fight them, and I’m determined that by the time we reach our destination, I will have the truth of her life so far, and I will deal with whatever that throws up.
The first small town we reach offers the welcome sight of a sweet café, so I park the car and waste no time in heading inside because if I don’t eat soon I’m liable to kill something and eat it raw.
I order for us, hoping that Rose remembers not to speak French because two American tourists from Orlando don’t have cute French accents like she does.
When the waiter leaves to fetch our order, I lean in and whisper, “You speak French very well, but it’s probably best not to use it. We don’t want to draw attention to ourselves.”
“If you say so.” She shrugs. “To be honest, it’s more like my first language. They speak French in the convent mainly, and when we were at home, we spoke Italian.”
“But you speak English with no accent. How did you learn to do that?”
“Our tutors were all English, and products of Oxford University. My father craved the accent, and we were meant to practice speaking English rather than Italian or French.”
“Why?”
She shrugs. “He believed it would open more doors for us, and he was probably right.”
The waiter returns with two coffees and a bowl of croissants, and as we begin to eat, she smiles. “I have lived on croissants for many years now. I was kind of hoping for a change.”
“I’ve also ordered pancakes and bacon, eggs and sausage along with toast. Will that do?”
“It will.”
The way her eyes gleam causes me to shift on my seat because Rose seduces without realizing it.
I am fascinated by her soft approach to life and mesmerized by her smile.
I’m used to women who seduce through suggestive looks and words, not unaware they are doing so.
Rose is different, making her more powerful than they will ever be.
“How long will it take us to reach–” She glances around her before lowering her voice.
“Madrid.”
“You’re learning.”
I’m impressed, and she grins. “I’m a fast learner.”
“To answer your question, probably eight or nine hours. We have the day but will stay the night in another hotel before traveling home.”
“We’re on an adventure.”
“We are.”
We share a smile, and it strikes me how happy I am to be here with her.
I’m a man who thrives on adrenaline, secrecy and lies.
Conflict and challenges. But life with Rose is pleasurable in more ways than how much I desire her.
She makes the simple things valuable and the uninteresting the Holy Grail.
I have never met a woman like her in my life, and I’m surprisingly worried I may not be able to hold on to her.
The waiter returns with our food, and as we eat, I scan the cafe for any sign of danger. It’s what they do in the wild — eat with one eye on the horizon and I have never been any different.
“You’re nervous.” She leans closer and appears concerned.
“I don’t get nervous. I told you, I’m always one step ahead if not three, and that requires planning and thinking several steps ahead.”
“I feel safe with you, Julius.”
The sunshine in her smile catches a corner of my jaded heart, and on autopilot my hand finds hers, and I gaze into her eyes.
“I want you to. I will never hurt you, Rose, just so you know.”
She nods, happiness in her smile, and I wonder if she would be so trusting, so happy, if she discovered how dangerous I am. Not to her, never to her, because I may have the bloodstains of many men on my hands, but I have reverence in my heart concerning her.
I am a violent man. I was a violent child, and yet wanting her frightens me more than my own violence ever has.
I’m in unfamiliar territory in every way, and it’s become the most important thing in my world to get us home and hope she chooses me.
We drive for most of the day, and as we approach Spain and the border, I pray that nothing prevents us from getting through. There is security everywhere, and we are on false passports. Our fate could be decided by one of these guards, and I hope like hell we pass through with no problems.
Rose is anxious as we approach the booth that will allow us to enter Spain and head to Madrid.
We join the line, and conversation is put on hold as we try to appear like the tourists we are supposed to be.
“Passport.”
The surly guard holds out his hand with a cursory glance in our direction, and I hate the way his eyes linger on Rose a fraction of a second too long.
She is anxious but smiles sweetly, and the warm smile he offers her almost causes me to roll my eyes. Fuck, even he isn’t immune to her, and the last thing we need is for her to be remembered.
He studies the photographs, and his gaze swivels between us, and I swear I hold my breath as he turns to the booth.
Another guard is standing there before a computer, and he says something in Spanish that causes the other guard to turn his head our way.
Roses’s hand finds mine, and she grips it hard, appearing unaware of any danger we could be in right now.
The guard turns his attention back to her with an amused smile and says something in Spanish, and I hold my breath.
Rose shakes her head. “I’m sorry, I don’t speak Spanish.”
He nods. “Welcome to Spain, Mrs. Sullivan.”
He completely ignores me as he hands the passports back and stands to the side, the light turning from red to green.
I pull away, still holding my breath, and as we create distance, Rose exhales sharply.
“That was close.”
“In what way?”
“The guard was joking with his friend. They were discussing holding you for an hour or two so they could have some fun with me.”
“What the fuck?”
I almost crash the car, and she laughs softly. “I’m guessing it was a joke, but I didn’t let on I am fluent in Spanish too.”
I feel seriously uneducated around Rose and exhale sharply. “Is there any language you don’t speak?”
“Several. I speak English, French, Spanish and Italian. Also Portuguese and some Cantonese.”
“Why the fuck did you learn Cantonese?”
Her soft laughter causes me to smile, and she shrugs. “Why not? It was a challenge, and there isn’t much to do at the convent in the evening except to pray.”
“And once again I wonder again why you are so keen to get back there.”
“I was.”
“Was?”
“You were right, Julius; life can be fun if you go with the flow.”
“The flow?”
I laugh out loud. “You amuse me, Rose. I never know what I’m going to get with you. I like it though.”
“I’m glad.”
She appears to be thinking hard and then says with a slight stutter, “I’m, um, kind of enjoying playing at being your wife, Julius.”
This time I take a very deep breath because miracles can apparently happen.
She adds, “I know it’s only fake and to get us through the madness, but well, I never realized how nice it is to be with someone outside of family. It’s as if you carry chaos in your hands and I reach for it, anyway.”
“Chaos?” I chuckle softly. “This isn’t chaos, baby; it’s normality, and if you stick around, you’ll soon discover that chaos is addictive.”
She says nothing, and as we continue our journey, I must agree with one thing she said. It is good being in a fake marriage with her, and I never thought I’d ever say that.