Rose and the Thorn (Fallen Tales series)

Chapter 23

Chapter 23
Patrick
I sat in the library with my father's journal.
I started with the first entry.

April 19 1985
My wedding is tomorrow and I couldn't be more over joyed. I love Rebecca with or my heart. It made my hands shake whenever I thought about how much I loved her.
Could there be anything more beautiful on this earth? I don't how I manage without looking into her eyes for every minute of the day.
She is an amazing woman. And the thought she will one day carry my heir made my heart race with excitement.
Jenson's at my door now. The guys are here for my bachelor party. .
I could never be more happy

Then what happen between the time I was born and when Adelaide was? Why did Father drown himself in his work? What happened to the guy that was so in love he couldn't even breathe?
"What are you reading?" Rose asked coming into the room with a bucket and sponge to clean the windows.
I sighed, "My father's journal."
She stretched her body to try and reach the top of the window. It was only two meters high.
"Anything juicy?"
I was surprised by the question. Last thing I wanted to read was my parents' sex life.
"No."
"Too bad."
She bent down to wet the sponge making me burn with want.
"Why would you want to know? Isn't that something that parents should only share between each other?"
She groaned, "You're so English. Aren't you a tiny bit curious?"
She turned to face me.
"No."
She groaned again and went back to cleaning.
"So you're saying that you wouldn't mind listening to how your parents made love."
"You're such a girl," she scoffed, "and I didn't say that I wouldn't mind it. I just mean that I have a right to know how I got to this earth, don't I?"
I shrugged, "I suppose. Only an American would ask those questions."
She went back to cleaning.
"That has nothing to do with it. I have American friends that would never ask those questions," she stated.
"Really," I said surprised. I didn't know if it was because I didn't think she had friends or that she knew normal sane people
"Okay, they weren't my friends. But I knew them. They were the smart ones that sat at the front of the class. Boring as hell little virgins that always got their way."
"Is there a problem with being a virgin?"
Her head quickly turned.
"Are you a virgin?" she almost whispered it.
My eyes went wide with shock, "what no, no? I just - what's wrong with it?"
"Well nothing's wrong with it, it's just, those little princess's aren't my type of people," she stated.
"And what are your type of people?" I asked surprised that I wanted to know.
"Well it used to be drunk frat boys but since I came here, its damage lords."
I laughed. Okay I will give that one to her.
"And what are your type of people?" She asked.
"It used to be boring rich people but now it's broken Americans."
She laughed as well.
She went back to cleaning the window. I found my eyes wondering her perfect body. Down her hairline that she often covered with her hair out but today she teased me with it up in a high ponytail.  Her black singlet rolled up at the bottom showing off the bottom of her back. My eyes were planted on her round arse making my mind go wild.
"So what's with the journal?" Rose asked breaking my thoughts.
I sighed feeling like a fool.
"I wanted to learn how to manage the estate. Jenson said that I should read it."
"I thought journals were about feelings, not money."
"Not really, it's more like dates and things like that," I told her.
"So are we going to talk about that kiss?"
I froze at her question. How could she be so forward?
"Ah, what is there to say?" I asked. I've never had this conversation.
She turned to looked at me.
"I don't know."
"Neither do I and you were the one that brought it up."
"You kissed me," she stated.
"No I didn't."
"You lean in!"
"You were touching my face!"
She groaned.
We were in silence till Rose asked, "it was a good kiss, right?"
"Yeah, I mean, it was good for me -."
"Oh yeah, me too."
There was awkward silence.
"Let's just forget about it," Rose suggested.
"I don't want to forget it," I surprised myself by my answer.
"Neither do I."
There was another awkward silence. I quickly jumped up as I knew a way to escape.
"Well, I have got to go to Jenson and you –."
"And I have to clean windows," she finished.
We laughed uneasy as I moved out of the room.

Rose
Patrick's body filled my sleepy head. My eyes wondering down his shirtless body down to the waist band of his jeans. My stare looked upon his perfect lined scars making my stomach do flips. His hands lied flat on my tail bone pushing me against him. I only realized I was in lace black underwear and matching bra when I felt my skin against his. He leaned in for the kiss. I met him half way. I was so eager to feel his lips between mine. A moan escaped from my lips making him burn beneath me. His hands griped my thighs lifting me up. He carried me to the bed. His lips kissed lower and lower...
I woke up to Curious' grumbles. My breathing was heavy and a bead of sweat rolled down my cheek.
"Did you have to wake me up? I was just getting to the good part," I groaned settling down on my pillow. He grumbled as if answering me.
"Oh I get it, you don't want me dreaming about any guy but you."
He groaned again.
"I shouldn't be dreaming about any guy," I admitted to myself. And defiantly not ones that involve getting close and personal with Patrick. I wish I could get close and personal with Patrick.
Curious groaned as if reading my mind.
"Traitor."



Chapter 24
Rose
The village was the same as always. After I did my monthly job, ignoring the look from the lady at the counter, I thought it would be a good chance to have a look at the shops. They were a lot calmer than the one's in New York. Just a couple of simple dress stores, supermarket and a chemist. I turned and walked into the first dress store.
It was a simple store, with skirts and pants on racks that lined the wall. Round racks dotted the store with dresses and shirts. I surprised myself and went to the racks with the dresses. Most of them were long but lose. Something you would where on a summer's day. I found myself imagining me in one with a white long-shelve shirt underneath. With its tie-die colour of pink, yellow and white made me feel warm in this growing winter.
I smiled to myself and moved to a rack of shirts.
"You're her, aren't you?" I jumped at a female's voice behind me. My eyes went straight to her fizzy red hair and down to what she wore. Jeans, black singlet and brown leather jacket. I would have complemented her if her wide green eyes weren't staring at me so intensely.
"Probably not," I said quickly turning back to the racks.
"But you are, oh my God, what's he like now?"
I felt so awkward talking about Patrick. What wasn't he like?
"Who?"
"Lord Patrick of course. I bet he's still tall, dark and handsome. He is, isn't he?"
I shrugged, "he's not that tall. Well, tall compared to me."
She slapped my shoulder making me jump, "So you've talked to him."
Talked, fought, kissed, dreamt about him.
"Um, no not really. He keeps to himself," I lied.
Why was this so hard?
"I bet he does, you know, living in that huge mansion, alone."
I bit my tongue to not scream, what the hell would you know!
"I guess so," I shrugged.
"I heard that he never leaves his room and nobody goes in his room."
I turned to her. This was getting out of control.
"Well how does he get fed then if the butler isn't going into his room to feed him?" I asked her.
"No I mean," She leaned in to whisper, "I mean female."
My eyes widen at what she was suggesting.
"I mean, how else is he supposed to relax?"
I couldn't believe she was asking me if he, did, that. I thought English people didn't talk about this stuff to friends let alone perfect strangers.
"You know what, how about you go ask him yourself?" I told her bitterly and stormed out of the shop.
I'm not going to talk about Patrick with a perfect stranger. And if anyone was going to know if he did, that, it was going to be me.