Page 142 of Rough Around the Hedges

And her lips.

Her soft, full lips, that were currently parted as she breathed.

God, I was so in love with her. Every part of me hummed with desire for her, and I wondered if this would ever be enough. If touching her would ever satiate the need I had for her, that unending want to be close to her.

I wanted to stay here, in this bed, with her in my arms. I wanted to breathe in her raspberry-scented hair and run my fingers over her rough hands as if I could massage out the damage the physicality of her job had done to her pretty skin.

I couldn’t imagine letting her go.

And now, I had a feeling she felt the same. After her outburst yesterday, I’d seen it—that ugly, gnawing jealousy she was holding onto. It was the same as the one I’d felt after I’d seen those videos of her dancing.

I had no idea what pictures she’d seen, but if I knew the way the media spun things, they were undoubtedly in an article speculating about my marital status. As my friends had slowly begun entering relationships, getting married, and having children, attention had naturally come the way of those of us in the upper classes who were still single.

Whether we courted such attention or not.

I most certainly did not.

Maybe that was why I was coming to see Hanbury as my home. Rose was here, and so was peace. This was a place where I could breathe, where I could simply exist as myself without the weight of too many expectations.

It was a place I wanted to be.

A place nobody cared to find me.

A place I would happily stay for the rest of my life if it meant getting to keep Rose by my side.

I glanced at the clock. It was six-thirty. Time to wake her.

I pressed a feather-light kiss to the tip of her nose. She didn’t stir, and I moved to her cheek, dotting a soft path of barely-there kisses across her cheek. When she still didn’t move, I took my journey downwards.

How far could I get before she’d finally wake up?

I trailed down her neck, and she finally moved.

“Mm.” She rolled her head to the side and reached up, getting a fistful of my hair. “What are you doing?”

“Wishing you good morning,” I said in a low tone that was still full of sleepiness. “Is this not how you do it?”

My lips continued their journey across her neck, and she shivered when I reached the base of her throat, pausing only to graze my teeth across her collarbone.

“Not unless you’ve brushed your teeth,” she murmured, eyes still closed.

I laughed and fell back, drawing her against my body. “How did I know you’d say that?”

“Oh, no. Am I getting predictable?”

“Never. I don’t think predictable is ever a word anyone could use to describe you.”

“Good. I was worried I was losing my touch.” She yawned and finally forced her eyes open. “What time is it?”

I met her gaze with a smile. “Six-thirty. You asked me to make sure you were awake then.”

“Ughhhhh.Past Rose is an idiot,” she murmured. “I’m tired.”

“Then go back to sleep.” I kissed her hair. “You said you didn’t have a client until eleven, right? So, sleep.”

“No, I have to go home. What if someone sees me?”

I hesitated before saying, “Does it really matter? Do you think nobody knows something is going on between us?”

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