Page 28 of Rescuing Rosie
‘Why thank you, kind northern sir,’ she said. It was impossible to remain down in the face of Dale’s cheeky charm. ‘Guess I drank too much too quickly. I won’t bore you with the details, but … I’m a bit sensitive right now. Recent break-up.Veryrecent. This weekend is my boss’s attempt to pull me out of my personal pity party.’
‘Totally here for your rebound,’ he said. He turned to face her and traced a finger down her cheek. She shivered under his touch. ‘Let’s see if I can help, lovely Rosie,’ he said softly, looking into her eyes. His own glittered in the fading light. He touched a finger to her lips. ‘Can I?’
She hadn’t expected him to ask. It kind of melted her that he did.
Her heart in her mouth, Rosie nodded, and his lips met hers, softly at first, then he pulled her close and kissed her hard. Heat flooded her limbs, and she lifted a hand to his head, burying her fingers in those irresistible curls. The ferocity of her response took her by surprise as her other hand moved round to his back, burrowing beneath his fleece and up his back, needing to touch his warm skin.
He flinched. ‘Fuck, your hand’s cold,’ he muttered against her lips. Then his tongue slid into her mouth and she let out a moan. ‘How shall we warm it up?’ he whispered. He took her cold hand in his, leading her to a spot against the wall that was in deep shadow. He rubbed her hand between his, then pressed it to the hardness in his trousers and said, ‘I like to call this my hand warmer.’
She giggled, then pulled her hand free, grasped his and guided it between her thighs. ‘And I like to call this my muff.’What the hell?‘Oh my god. I can’t believe I just said that.Whatwas in that drink!’
Dale gave a low chuckle. ‘And you look like such a sweet and innocent little thing. Who knew?’ He kissed her again and slipped his fingers between her legs. It was as if every drop of blood in her body rushed to meet them as he stroked her through her leggings, his touch feathery at first, becoming firmer, circling, pressing, and her knees began to tremble.
‘That feels so nice,’ she breathed.
‘Wear a skirt next time,’ he whispered, as his lips left hers and traced a path down her neck. ‘Leggings are a man’s worst enemy, second only to skinny jeans.’
He moved a hand inside her top and stroked her breast, then pulled up her bra and rubbed a flat palm against her hard nipple. ‘As I said earlier,’ he murmured, trailing his hand lower, ‘can we get two fingers in?’
Things were moving far too quickly for a dark corner of the terrace. Rosie pulled back, and was about to suggest they found somewhere more private when the bar door opened and a figure strode outside, silhouetted against the light. ‘Dale?’ said a voice in the dark. It was familiar.
‘Fuck,’ hissed Dale, straightening and making a clumsy attempt to sort out Rosie’s top. ‘What?’ he called in response. ‘Busy here.’
Rosie was panicking, pulling her bra and top down. The sound of the puffer zip was loud in the night.
Ant stopped dead where he was. After a short pause he said, ‘Okay – see you inside,’ then disappeared back through the doors.
‘Fuck shit bollocks,’ said Dale. ‘Sorry, gorgeous, sounds urgent. I’d best see what he wants.’
What was going on? What should Rosie do? Go with him, or was this a private conversation? Would she and Dale pick this up in her room later?
He followed Ant inside, and Rosie took a moment to compose herself, and to rearrange her clothes. She combed her fingers through her hair and wondered if there was a Ladies anywhere close, so she could un-dishevel herself in the mirror.
She peeped through the glass panel of the door, just in time to see Dale leave the bar, Ant behind him. Ant noticed the movement outside, and looked across as Rosie was pulling back. His eyes met hers, then he carried on out of the room.
Rosie stood outside for a moment longer, flooded with embarrassment. After a few deep breaths she wrenched open the bar door and walked across the room, attempting to project a self-confidence she wasn’t feeling.
Why had Dale abandoned her without explanation?
‘Rosie?’ She stopped as Gaz called her name. He was holding out a beer mat.
She went over, not meeting the barman’s eye. It felt like a walk of shame. But why would she assume Gaz knew what they’d been up to outside? They could have simply been chatting.
Because he knows Dale, duh, said her sensible side.
‘Dale asked me to give you this,’ he said. ‘He apologises for having to leg it.’ He passed it over without further comment, then went to serve a couple who’d just entered the room.
Rosie read the phone number scribbled on the beer mat, and the words,Sorry beautiful, had to go – see you tomorrow! XX
Chapter Twelve
Rosie carried on out of the room. She’d sobered up, and had a sudden, desperate urge to submerse herself completely in that hot bath. With chocolates. Without alcohol.
As she made her way to the stairs, she passed the door to the lounge-library and glanced in. She was surprised to see Madison in there with Lucas, the pair sitting quietly in comfy armchairs. Lucas’s dark head was hunched over his phone, while Madison was reading a book.
Waving a wistful goodbye to her bath fantasy, Reporter Rosie knew she should grab this opportunity for a one-on-one with the star.
‘Hi,’ she said, entering the room. ‘Is it okay if I join you guys? It looks so warm and cosy in here.’ Her eyes fell on the trays of tea, coffee and biscuits, and the kettle set out on the polished antique sideboard. ‘Isn’t this all lovely?’ she said, gazing around at the bookshelves and the log fire crackling in the hearth.
