“No, you won’t,” she retorts as she, too, drops her bottle, her hands coming up to mine on her neck.
“You sure about that?”
There’s that resolve in her again, and it makes me pause a beat as she pushes my hands into her throat, goading me to squeeze.
“Dead fucking certain, Danny Black.” She forces her forehead to mine, her words virtually hissed in my face. “Because you love me.”
Chapter 22
ROSE
* * *
Danny drops me like I could be diseased, moving away quickly. He looks shell-shocked. “No.” A shake of his head reinforces his lie.
“Yes.” I swallow, rubbing at my throat, his anger seeming to have transferred to me.
“No.” Now, he laughs, like my suggestion is the most obscene thing in the world. Sad truth is, it is. And that only angers me more. I shove my hands into his bare chest and send him staggering back.
“Yes,” I spit.
His scar deepens with the irritated twist of his lips. “No.”
“Fucking yes,” I scream, charging and shoving him back again. This time, he crashes against his office door, the sound of his naked back smacking the wood echoing around us. My balled fists press into his pecs, my jaw sore with tightness. “I see you, Danny Black. I see you clearly. Just as clearly as you see me.” I step back, freeing him, but he remains coated against the door, stunned into silence. I reverse my steps and dip to collect the vodka that was keeping me company, as well as feeding me some valor. “You can deny it all you like. I did.” I release a huff of laughter, because this whole fucking situation is fucking laughable. “But for my fucking sins, Danny Black, I love you too, you sadistic, twisted asshole.” I tip the bottle and take a healthy dose of courage. “I didn’t tell Nox about the exchange today because I . . . love . . . you.” I raise the bottle, face straight, and toast the air. “And if that isn’t good enough, then kill me, because if you don’t, he will.” I finish the last inch of the bottle and toss it aside, feeling gravity working against me. I start to sway. “I’ve been held to ransom my entire life. Blackmailed to do as I’m told or face the consequences.” I throw my arms in the air and let them plummet to my sides. “A punch to the back here, an invasion of my body there. Yes, you’re right. I was made to seduce whoever fucking Nox made me seduce. And hated every minute of it. Everything at a cost. But I choose to face the consequences this time.” I’m getting louder with each splurge of words, my hands more animated. “For you,” I shout, making him blink a few times. I don’t know who tipped off the FBI. I’m stumped. I tapped out that message and stared at it for an age before deleting it. Then I wrote it again after he left for the boatyard. And deleted it again. All I thought about was every moment between Danny and me that led to my realization. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t do it to him. I wasn’t sensible this time. I chose him.
Danny remains quiet, studying me. His nonresponsive form, his lack of emotion, tips me. “Why the hell would I still be here if I did that to you?” I scream. Still no reaction. “My fucking life and soul is on the line here because of my insane need to protect a man who apparently hates me, so you could at least say something.”
“You want me to say something?” he murmurs.
“Yes! Fucking say something.”
“I love you.”
I inhale sharply, slamming my mouth shut and moving back. I knew it. Or hoped it. But hearing him actually say it? “What?” It feels surreal.
“I love you.” It sounds as good the second time as it did the first. So why am I distancing myself from him? “I love you,” he says it again, pushing himself away from the door by his shoulder blades. “Why are you wearing the red dress?” he asks, slowly closing the distance between us.
I look down my front on a frown, my head getting progressively woozier, the vodka replacing the blood in my hot veins. “To remind me of who I am,” I admit, reaching down and feeling at the material. A whore. Cheap.
His bare feet appear in my dropped vision, and I look up when he takes my throat softly, walking me back to his desk. My swallows roll against his flat palm, his cold eyes looking down at me like he hates me. “You’re mine. That’s who you are, Rose Lillian Cassidy,” he says quietly, with genuine conviction. “You’re fearless. I’m fearless. The only thing we’re scared of is each other.” He dips and directs my mouth up to his with a light press of his hand against my throat. “Your scars are my scars. And my scars are yours.” My bottom lip wobbles, and he presses his finger to it. “Don’t cry, baby. It doesn’t suit you.” His lips replace his finger, and he kisses me with so much softness. So much love. It accelerates my emotions and has me sobbing through our kiss, my uncoordinated arms eventually finding his shoulders and clinging to him. He takes the hem of my dress and pulls it up, but only to allow me to crawl up his body and wrap my thighs around his waist. Unrelenting chemistry isn’t fueling this. Unrelenting feelings are. Feelings neither of us have felt before.