Rose Is Back With Thorns

prologue

Ten years ago

Rose was busy humming away in the kitchen as she and the other maids prepared to set the table. The mistress of the house loathed it when dinner belated by even a millisecond. If so, Madam Maureen would make them scrub the entire estate all night. The mistress wasn't a remorseful woman and neither was her husband the master. Sir Sylvester albeit a fair man wasn't forgiving. When the rest of the maids went to set the table, she took to settle the drinks.

Rose was picking out a bottle of wine for dinner when long, muscular arms encircled her waist. The familiar pine and sandalwood musky scent tickled her nostrils and she knew just who it was. "Stop it!" She reprimanded swatting his hands away halfheartedly.

As if sensing her reluctance, he tightened his hold and kissed her neck, his bulge poking her behind. "What were you saying about stopping?" The hoarse baritone teased. Lord, he had missed her. They hadn't been intimately close for almost a week and he was losing his sanity. For some reason she'd been avoiding him and however barbaric he came through, he wasn't about to let her go. "I missed you my flower."

Rose whimpered at his voice. How she loved it when he called her his flower. They couldn't be openly together being against so many odds. His parents, their social classes and the Villainous creature his parents imposed on him. She'd began to suspect that someone knew about them and she'd kept her distance. The stubborn man wouldn't give it up. He hunted her down like prey, risking his inheritance in the process. She wouldn't allow him to deprive himself the lavish life he was accustomed to. She tried to wiggle away only to end up sandwiched flush against the wine cabinet and his hard body.

"Your mother could_"

"How long before dinner?" The interruption was deliciously hoarse. His hands caressed her stocking clad thighs while his mouth worked the nerves behind her ear, melting her.

She scrambled for a coherent reply aware she was about to stutter and he'll be on top of himself with amusement. "T...ten...ten minutes."

He chuckled against her neck the warmth of his breath and the reverberation of his chuckle weakening her knees. He lifted her up so that she encircled her legs around his manly waist, her back against the wine cabinet. "You know I prefer to have you in a soft bed carpeted with pretty rose petals like you right?"

She nodded briskly. Her mind wandering off to their coupling moments. He'd always make each one special than the last. Chocolates and flowers and sometimes champagne and wine. He'd let her soak in his massive bathtub filled with warm scented water. Sometimes they'd make love again. Or he'd tell her to nap. If his parents were away for business trips he'd make her stay all night. Not that she minded. She was elated. Deliriously happy. "I love you Morgan."

"I love you too my flower. Will you let me have you here? Indecently?" She was special and he'd never treat her otherwise. He captured her lips the moment she nodded yes. Ten minutes. He didn't like to take her like a cheap woman but he couldn't get her upstairs his parents were in the house. She was afraid of them and he hated it but he took his time to allow her to adjust to his imposing, stereotypical family. He'd never let them lay their wicked hands on her. He made love to her keeping in mind to make it up to her later.

***

The Sylvesters ritually settled on the dining table. The maids carefully and silently began to serve them. Rose poured Debra, the youngest and meanest her juice. At seventeen, the brat acted like a grumpy seventy year-old. She then poured wine into the glass adjacent to Oscar, the firstborn son who was a nice man and quite successful at twenty-four and with an age difference of two years with his brother Morgan, the two were inseparable. He mumbled a thank you but she'd moved on to Maureen who smiled at her. Lethal.