Page 22 of The Dark Obsession

“Will you text me please, just to let me know you get home all right?” He forces his gaze off me and back to the window.

“Why wouldn’t I get home safe?”

Rafael shrugs. “He seems angry.”

I nod and hurry to reach the doorhandle, watching the hallway light to Dale’s house flick on and filter through the dark, stormy night.

“Goodnight, Rosalie,” I hear as I shut the car door behind me with a weak smile.

I stand motionless, breathing deeply, the cold air rushing into my lungs. I linger a moment, then approach his house. The door opens as soon as I reach the first step, and Dale stands there, as sweet as ever, as he waves to Rafael’s car, which pulls off slowly.

“Hello, hun.”

“Hey,” I say through a tight smile, my jaw tense with annoyance.

He proffers his hand and leads me through the dazzling hallway and into the front room. Several candles are lit on the beautiful fireplace’s mantel. The light crackling and the smell of burned wood feels inviting and warm.

I sit on the sofa, and he brings forward two glasses of wine and sits next to me. He’s so close to me I can feel the heat of his body on my own.

“You look delicious.” He puts his hand on my knee and kisses my cheek. The electricity in his kiss fails to impress me.

“You followed me.”

His shoulders tense, but his face looks ashamed. “I was wrong. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have followed you.” He puts his hand under my chin, his face full of regret. One hand slides to the back of my neck and pulls my face close to his. “You’re different, Rosalie. Every time I think of you, my heart leaps into my chest and pounds away, as if my world is about to cave in.” His voice quivers along with his hands.

His sweet warm lips touch mine, the surge of electricity back at full power—a different type of electricity, so strong it almost hurts. He pulls away, leaving my lips feeling cold; my cheeks flush as they burn in his loss. His finger delicately traces the shape of my face. He reaches his other hand behind the sofa and produces a single rose. “Forgive me.”

“Of course,” I say before I think. I want his lips on mine again; I want to feel the new and strange electrical current he emanates. I take the rose and wrap my arms around his neck, pressing my lips against his. The passion in his lips awakens the pit of my stomach. I recall last night, his body dancing in the moonlight.

He holds my hips and slides his hands around to my back. He lifts me with ease onto himself, his tongue flicking playfully over mine. It’s so easy to forget to breathe when life shoots by so fast.

Over his shoulder, I watch our shadows move and become one in the light of the fire-lit room, our breathing erratic, his hands uncontrollable against my inviting body. My eyes close as I give into my desires.

???

“What are you working on?” he asks as he caresses my hair. The firelight shines off his pale body, his arms wrapped around me, our bodies close, and the heat from the open fire burns against my back.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean … what case are you working on at work?”

“A stalker, a murder.” A shiver creeps up my spine at the thought of what happened to the woman.

“Oh, and the stalker … he’s been captured?”

“No, we will be working alongside the police. This … thisbastardwho murdered this young womanneedsto be caught and handed his judgement.”

“And what about Rafael? What’s his deal?”

Before I know it, I am standing rigid, holding my dress against my body. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing bad, Rosalie. I just meant, he’s a weird character.”

“He’s fine; he’s a good man. He’s just doing his job.” I pull my dress over my head. An odd sense of unease overwhelms my body as Dale gets to his feet.

He inches towards me, closer—as close as he can possibly get—his face against mine. “You have feelings for this man?” His voice is a deadly whisper.

I feel paralysed. Slow-motion takes over. He puts his hands on my face unnecessarily hard. With his fingers wrapped around my face, squeezing my cheeks so hard I can feel my teeth against my inner cheeks, he lifts my face to look at his own. “Answer me!”

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