Theo clenched his fists.
Her expression was closed off now. Composed. But her movements gave her away—the slight tremble in her fingers as she retrieved the broom from where it rested against a chair, the way she didn’t look at him as she turned away, her body humming with restraint.
He took a step forward.
“Rose—”
She shook her head, just once. Soft. Final.
It wasn’t rejection.
It was a silent plea.
Let this moment go—for now.
He wavered as she walked off toward the side of the stage, disappearing behind the velvet curtain and into the shadows where she could breathe again.
Theo exhaled slowly, forcing his pulse to even out. A low growl of frustration rumbled in his chest.
She was slipping behind the curtain again—figuratively and literally.
And he wasn’t about to let that happen.
Not again.
Not ever,he thought as the primitive urge to announce to the world that Rose was his woman swept through him.
He turned with frustration toward the sound of footsteps echoing across the wooden floor.
Mimi ascended the steps like a queen in stilettos, ready to conquer.
“My word,” she beamed, sweeping her arms out like she was taking a bow. “You’re even more handsome in the morning light. How is that fair?”
Theo forced a polite smile. “Mrs. Devan. Thank you for seeing me on such short notice.”
Mimi’s secretary handed off the folder and scurried out of the theatre at her boss’s not-so-subtle wave. Mimi turned her full attention on him now, her eyes bright with curiosity, barely restrained excitement, and more than a little bit of avarice.
He walked in silence as Mimi began her sales pitch. Her voice fluttered with praise about his reputation for supporting the arts, the legacy of the theatre, and how thrilled she was by his interest.
Theo nodded, murmuring appropriate responses, but his mind wasn’t on her.
It was on the woman who had disappeared earlier backstage.
The one who’d kissed him with wild abandon. He turned as he and Mimi returned to the stage a half-hour later. He could feel Rose’s eyes on him.
Looking up, he scanned the upper levels of the theatre. She was his Christine Daaé fromLe Fantôme de l'Opéra—only she was held captive by her memories here in the theatre.
That ends today.
The decision clicked into place, ruthless in its logic. A pang of doubt whispered at the edge of his conscience—but he silenced it. He would not lose her.
There would be no more disappearing into the shadows. He would offer Mimi the donation—but in return, he would ask her to let Rose go. Not immediately. He needed time. He needed Rose to trust him… to want to come with him.
But the end goal was now set in stone.
He wasn’t just going to woo her. He would rewrite her world—whatever it took.
Nine