APRIL IN ROME
Chapter Sixteen

The door slammed shut behind Don and Emma leaving a solemn wake of deafening silence. Jack haltingly approached Rose’s hospital bed and collapsed into a nearby chair. Afraid to wish, afraid to dream, afraid to hope. Ever so gently, he placed a quivering hand upon slender fingers reveling in the fact that he and Rose had made life together. Growing inside her were their babies—tiny miracles that they had conceived out of love. There was no headier feeling in the world and yet…he crumbled. Jack couldn’t hold them back any longer. He didn’t want to hold them back. Tears of fear, tears of misery, tears of guilt, tears of despair. What should have been one of the most treasured moments in their entire lives was now tainted with helplessness and grieving distress. This beautiful astounding girl, now woman, was lying here because of his lack of faith. He’d never forgive himself. Ever.

Clearing his raw throat, he began to softly whisper in her ear. The shakily spoken words came out as a mere scratch, but the entire time, Jack continually touched her…her copper silky hair…her finely arched brow…her delicate pale cheekbones…her colorless full lips.

"Rose, it’s me…Jack. I’m so sorry…I should have known…I should have trusted you. I should have believed in us. The last four months have been so lonely…so miserable without you. I can’t live without you, Rose…remember that song you sang in Rome at the party for Martin? Every time I think of you, which is with every breath I take, that’s what I feel inside. I can’t live if living is without you, I can’t give anymore…you’re everything I ever need or want in my life. My God, you’re so beautiful, Rose. My life is nothing without you. I would give everything I possess for you…my heart, my life…anything and everything! Can you hear me…can you feel me?"

And Jack kept uttering softly to her…never ceasing…keeping a constant vigil while never daring to leave, to stop stroking her, to stop encouraging her. He recited love poems, he told her stories, and he reminisced about their glorious days in Rome, every minute of every memory they had shared together and apart. He divulged his mournful despair that last night in April when she had left him and his desperate search attempt to find her afterwards. Every minute detail he re-shared with her. Never keeping silent a single solitary second. He wanted her to hear everything. For somehow, he believed she could hear his heart and might hopefully understand.

Later, Don and Emma somberly returned and helped keep vigil by Rose’s bedside. Don was stunned by the intense emotion radiating from Jack. He didn’t trust him, of course, but mostly, he simply just refused to believe in it. After all, Jack Dawson was an accomplished actor. The boy probably just felt guilty and a moral responsibility. After all, he did have a fiancee thus his daughter had merely been a fleeting intriguing diversion, something to possess for a time and toy with while he was on the prowl in Rome. But he wouldn’t think of that right now…he’d get his chance real soon with Dawson. And God help them both when he did!

As Don sat on the other side of his daughter’s bed, he studied her ashen face. She was so pale…like all her life’s blood had been sucked out by hundreds of bloodthirsty leeches. Shortly, Don’s thoughts began to wonder. For he was also shouldering a tremendous burden of blame himself. First of all, he shamefully admitted that he should have spent more time at Rosedale with her while she was growing up…he had been continually away with his band performing across the country for fame. The word now soured in his mouth. What had world-renowned recognition and power really gotten him? Notoriety? Vast opportunities? Immense wealth? Yes, yes and yes. But so what? They meant nothing without Rose.

Secondly, Don now guiltily realized that he should have allowed Rose more freedom and opportunities, mainly to visit her maternal grandparents in Italy. Maybe then, she wouldn’t have pulled that hair-brained stunt with Fabri. Well…strike that…she was Rose after all and knowing her free spirit and love for fun, nothing would have deterred her from enjoying life to its fullest. She was so much like him! She was his daughter all right--full of life, full of daring, full of innocent mischief. At that thought, Don had to secretly grin.

Thirdly, he had begun to second guess not sending her the money to return home to Texas when she requested it in Rome after losing that damn card game. But as he remembered it, they had quarreled on the phone as usual, and at the time he was sure she was in need of learning a very important lesson in life. He reflected again on the heated discussion when she had thrown up his "hotel groupies"! He had been so taken back and appalled that she actually believed those ugly rumors that had relentlessly followed him throughout the years. The disrespect and contemptuous manner in which she had lashed out at him had caused him to lose his damnable temper. Of course, he had never allowed Rose to accompany him on those road tours so what was she suppose to believe? He was such a fool! But still, she could be quite a pistol at times…and he had to inwardly smile…again.

And last but certainly not least, he had been so adamant about them attending this damn premiere tonight even though she had fervently balked and resisted! And with that silent confession, he remorsefully recalled that he was probably more responsible than anybody for Jack’s outlandish behavior. Oh, he knew what the boy mistakenly thought and believed as fact in Los Angeles at the Grammy Awards. Although he couldn’t quite grasp the reason why Dawson actually surmised that Rose was his wife. Then it hit him like a ton of bricks! His acceptance speech for the lifetime achievement award…he had never made reference to Rose as being his daughter. And as a matter of fact, Rose had never even been allowed to use the Hockley name before. She had always gone by her mother’s, DiStefano. Although all those years back, he sincerely thought that he was protecting her identity for security and privacy reasons, he realized now how utterly ridiculous it had all been…for naught. But the real kicker was that Don had gone so far as to ruthlessly taunt Jack in LA—never denying the fact. Hell, who was he kidding…he had enjoyed leading Dawson on. He had wanted revenge against Jack so desperately that when he realized what Jack was erroneously thinking, he had added more fuel to the fire!

But no…he refused to admit that all the false assumptions and accusations mattered now anyway. Because the cunning, deceitful Jack Dawson was engaged to be married to another woman regardless—shit, he had even heard the lady admit it backstage after that same blow up. Besides, Rose was not supposed to be a part of Dawson’s life after he was finished with his sordid little game of seduction in Rome. Fate had just stepped in and now the gutter rat was only trying to make up for the fact that he had accidentally made a seventeen-year-old girl pregnant. Most likely, this disgusting child rapist was merely trying to accept petty financial and moral responsibility out of principle or some type of fake nobility. Hell, knowing Emma as he did, she was probably demanding it!

After all, Dawson was not as stupid as he once thought! For Jack knew that Don had the winning hand at poker in all of this…because he could have the bastard jailed for statutory rape and the filth should know that! And as Don’s whirling mind began to concentrate on exacting more hate-filled revenge again…he suddenly stopped. What was he thinking anyway? He, himself, may be actually guilty of involuntary manslaughter if Rose didn’t make it through this tragedy! The blame was all his whether he wanted to accept it or not. He had to stop thinking in that direction…and keep praying and hoping for an absolution…that would hopefully come…and soon.

It was some time later when Emma slowly stood up and placed a consoling hand on Don’s sagging shoulders before tiredly suggesting, "Don, let’s go drink some coffee. I know my son and he’s not about to leave her until she comes to. We’ll be gone for just a little while. She’ll be all right. I just feel it!"

Slowly acquiescing, Don unsteadily unfolded his large frame from the chair. Hesitating a moment, he locked stern gazes with Jack and gruffly ordered, "If there is any change whatsoever…in either direction…you come get us! Is that understood, Dawson?"

Jack read the grief…the sorrow…the uncertainty…the reluctance…and deemed to relieve Don’s reservations.

"Yes, sir. I promise. You have my word."

And Don for some uncanny reason, honestly and without one ounce of doubt actually believed him.

As the door closed behind them, Jack heaved a great sigh of tempered relief. He needed to talk with Rose some more about personal things that were just between the two of them. Because this might be his only chance…

"Rose, I love you. Promise me, you’ll never let go. No matter how hopeless things might seem to you right now. We’re going to get through this nightmare. We’re gonna make it. Trust me. We’re going to go on and have lots of babies. Just you and me…but don’t you give up, Rose! Please, Rose, please…don’t leave me! Please come back to me…to us? My God, Rose…the babies are so beautiful…we saw them…they’re going to be all right but you’ve got to try and wake up now. They need both of us. However, some gut instinct tells me they’re going to be hard to handle though. Nevertheless, we’re going to be great parents, Rose. But let me tell you this…I’m a little scared! Yeah, that’s right, the notorious Jack Dawson is afraid. I have no inkling of what it is to be a good parent. But, I just know we’ll figure it out. We’re going to have lots of help from two devoted overbearing and overly protective grandparents. We can count on that! But I’m ready, Rose. I’m as ready to be a father as I am for us to be married and share the rest of our lives together. I want you and us, Rose. It’s like an unattainable wish come true…not that I deserve it by no means…or especially you. But please, Rose…open your eyes…your heart. And if you don’t want me anymore, I’ll try and understand. If you want me out of your life…well, I can’t promise you that will happen. I love you too much to let you go, Rose. Please, do me this honor…and become my wife."

Still…there was no movement or response. Jack’s heart throbbed painfully in his chest keeping perfect time with the consistent beep of the monitors. Distraught, he reached for it. The one thing that he had been able to hold on to since that tragic April night in Rome…Rose’s necklace. Still attached was the eternity ring he had bought for an engagement gift. Gingerly, he reached around and released the clasp from around his neck. Rose needed it more than him now…to protect her…to somehow keep her here with him in this life. Ever so gently, he placed it around her neck and kissed it as it fell to her breast. The ring still attached…a symbol of the promise he was willing to make for an eternity of love, devotion, and trust. Trust…the one thing that had alluded them both for these past hellacious months. Maybe Laurel’s spirit could send a message to her daughter. Maybe he would talk with and ask Rose’s mother to intervene for a miracle. Yes, that’s what he’d do…

And he did, pouring out his heart—his promise to keep, honor, and protect Rose throughout all eternity. In the aftermath, he laid his ruffled tawny head by her side and wept. He wept for the past, for the present and for the future.

Slowly, as if rising in the wake of a long awaited sunrise, Rose awoke to a distant muffled sob. Her head was throbbing unmercifully and it took quite some time to focus and take in her surroundings. Sluggishly realizing where she was and the tragic circumstances that had led up to her accident, brought instantaneous panic and fear—not for herself but for Jack and her unborn children. Glancing down, she immediately glimpsed a wild, shaggy blond head that could only belong to one person…her soul mate. Ever so slowly, she lifted her trembling hand and placed it upon his rumbled, bowed head.

"Jack, is it really you…is this just another dream?"

Abruptly jerking his head up, Jack stared into the most gorgeous pair of emerald eyes, which had been branded upon his heart since April in Rome. A slight, hesitant curve hinted at the corners of Rose’s full, ripe lips.

"Rose! Oh thank God in heaven…let me get the doctors!"

"No, Jack! Not yet…give me your hand so I can feel you. I have to know that you’re real and this is not my dreams again."

"Oh, Rose…I promise…I’m here…I’ll never leave you again. I’m so sorry, Rose…"

"Shh…no talking. Just let me see and touch you." Guiding his shaking hand to her slightly swollen stomach, a lump forming in her throat, she haltingly rasped, "The babies…do you know about them? Are they still…"

"They’re fine, Rose. Your father and my mother…we all saw them on the ultrasound. Their little hearts were pounding ninety to nothing, their tiny fingers and toes curling. I swear I saw one of them sucking its thumb! They’re so perfect, Rose…so small and so adorably beautiful. Thank you for them…they’re our little miracles…I can hardly believe it! Dear God in heaven, I love you, Rose, with every fiber of my soul."

While Jack whispered reassurances of their babies’ well being and heart rending terms of endearment, Rose studied the radiant relieved face of the man she so desperately loved and wanted in her life…in her children’s lives. She never doubted the truth of his passionate words but…could they have a life with so many obstacles in their way? Would he be willing to sacrifice his freedom for a family? Not that she wanted him to give up his career…but could he live a domestic existence and have no regrets in the future? She wanted a full time father for her babies…even if they had to follow him to the ends of the earth. She was willing…but would he?

"I love you, too, Jack. More than you’ll ever know. Come here and kiss my aching head!"

Suddenly light of heart, Jack bent over and kissed her lingeringly with all the gentleness and tenderness that he possessed and Rose melted into him. Like all the times before, it grew deeper and deeper. Never wanting it to end, she pulled him closer and ran her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck…moaning in desire…in relief…in victory.

The sudden harsh throat clearing of Don Hockley thrust them jerkily apart.

"I thought I told you Dawson to come get us if there was any change!" Don lightly admonished. "My God, she’s an invalid…lay off the smooching, it’s upsetting my sensitive stomach!"

"Daddy! Ms. Emma! I just woke up…come here. Let me hug you both!"

After a short joyous reunion, Rose laughingly admitted, "I’m so hungry…I’m ready to go home now. Can I, please?"

"Sweetpea…you’ve never been one for patience, have you? Let’s summon the doctor and see if we can get you released…if he thinks it’s in your and the babies’ best interest. Is that a deal?"

Emma sat down beside Rose and lightly stroked her delicate cheekbones while comfortingly squeezing her hand for support. "You gave us quite a scare, sweetheart. We shouldn’t rush these things…all right? I’m going to spoil you terribly you know. Not to mention those two babies. I’m so proud and excited…I haven’t held a baby in twenty-five years!"

Two days later, the Dawsons and Hockleys were on their way back…to Rosedale. Rows upon rows of multi-colored day lilies raised their heads like trumpets welcoming the four home. For all but one, this was like a long awaited home-coming. But for Jack, this mysterious strange place of Rose’s birth held him completely fascinated…and charmed. Although, he had seen and visited the majority of the great wonders of the world, this heavily wooded wonderland was altogether special and more beautiful than all of the others combined. To search for weeks on end for this shining jewel of the deep east Texas forests and to finally be arriving with the other piece of his heart was overwhelming…so peaceful…so surreal.

It was truly magnificent and yet the mist shrouded marshes and swamps with their moss-covered cypress tress and black glossy water was a bit eerie and daunting. Like something out of a Stephen King novel. Arriving at dusk, with the night creatures awakening to sing their mating calls, it set his over-active imagination into overdrive…drumming up ghosts and ghouls and he instinctively shivered. Something about this place made him feel like he had been here before. Of course, that was absurd since he had never been to this part of Texas in his whole life. But the feeling of deja vu kept nipping at his conscience. He half expected at any moment for some kind of creature or beast to leap out and send him straight into cardiac arrest! Of course, he knew he was being silly…spooks were for the weak of heart and mind. It was just that he was a city boy, a Californian from Los Angeles…and had never seen so much vast darkness, nature, or seclusion in his entire twenty-six years. Inwardly scolding himself, he tried to lighten his ridiculous fears by making polite conversation.

Directing his curious question to Don who was currently driving, Jack nodded his head toward the haunting, dark waters. "Are there any gators or crocs in that swamp?"

Don stared hard into the rearview mirror piercing Jack in the back seat sitting next to Rose with devilish moss green eyes.

"Some people go in there and never come out. Hard to say though…but I suspect they’re in there along with lots of other creatures of the night. Remind me to take you fishing sometimes—or better yet, perhaps snipe hunting."

At that, Emma and Rose lightly chuckled at his dry sense of humor. Jack, however, rather suspected that Don Hockley might be just a tad serious causing him to crookedly twist his mouth in wry amusement.

Continuing up the long winding drive, Emma espied a tall ivory two-storied octagon shaped building standing alone out near the water. It was an outbuilding that resembled a miniature turret of a castle with the whimsy of a grand enclosed gazebo. But why was it so secluded and separate from the rest of the grounds? Pointing, she curiously inquired, "What’s that, Don?"

"That’s what we southerners call a garconiere. Initially, it was meant as a guesthouse of sorts for single men when they came to visit…providing they stayed overnight. When it was built in the 1800’s, it was common for people to stay over when they came calling because of inclement weather and the crude methods of travel at the time. Back then, it was deemed safer not to travel at night in this neck of the woods. Also, it was used when the men of the house came home late after hunting trips or carousing, so they would sleep out there upon their return so as not to wake up the entire household. Especially the young, rowdy, and wildly spirited boys. Which reminds me, that’s where Jack will be sleeping," Don impishly revealed.

"But Daddy…that’s such an old custom, surely…"

"I’ve already had Trudy to get it ready, Rose. Some traditions are not to be broken. I’m still the master of this house, you know."

"Oh? Then, since you’re unmarried, then you’ll be staying out there, too, I suppose? Um?"

Everyone had the good sense to laugh at that rebuke including Don. He secretly glanced at Emma with a private promise of what was to come bringing a hint of color to her glowing cheeks. Jack, on the other hand, squeezed Rose’s hand and nudged her as if to say touche but at the same time pointedly disappointed and wary of the mysterious sequestered "bachelor pad". Yes, Don Hockley was going to be very difficult to win over…if that were even possible…and he was seriously beginning to doubt that! Maybe the cards held another miracle that would be forthcoming.

Mysteriously, as they came into view of the grand ancient Texas lady perched upon the banks of Caddo Lake, Jack again felt the hair rise upon the back of his neck and chills raise down his spine. For some strange reason, he actually knew how the great mansion was going to appear, even before laying eyes upon her haunting, magnificent facade. Reflecting back, he was positive that it just wasn’t possible! And then he shook his head slightly and convinced himself that these antebellum manors were plastered all over the history books and movies; therefore, it was more than likely that this particular old home just reminded him of one that he had seen before in pictures. Yes, that was it! Mystical illusions, my ass! And he secretly laughed at his wild imaginings. He laid it all down to nervousness, exhilaration, and anxiety thereby inwardly scoffing at himself.

Seated at dinner that night in the elegant formal dining room, Emma excitedly spoke up. "Chicken-fried steak again? Oh, I’ve been craving this and those pecan pralines ever since…"

Jack loudly sat his fork down in his plate and confusedly stared at his mother with a wondering brow.

"You’ve been here before, Mother?"

Mischievously grinning, Emma glanced at Don. "Of course, just last week as a matter of fact. Had a fantastic overnight visit with Rose and Don."

"Oh, I see." Jack slowly sat back and studied the two people that he fervently hoped and prayed were to be his family. Rose and Don each wore a half grin as if they might be hiding something. They both kept their own little secrets and he rather suspected albeit with disappointment that that period of time would remain just that…a private meeting between the trio that he would never be privy to.

"Well, Dawson…tomorrow we’ll give you the grand tour of the premises. But for tonight, I’d like to see you in my study when Rose is settled upstairs after supper. Do you think you could oblige me?"

A sinking feeling settled into the pit of Jack’s stomach but he weakly managed a half smile and politely conceded, "Of course, Mr. Hockley…sure thing!"

Rose shot Emma a worried concerned glimpse. Seeing and understanding her present predicament, Emma impishly winked to attempt to reassure her. Delicately dabbing her mouth with her napkin, she laid it aside and crooked her head toward Don suggestively.

"Don, I would absolutely love to take an evening stroll in the garden and maybe even beside the lake. Care to escort a lady?"

"It would be my pleasure, Ms. Dawson." Hurriedly pushing back his chair, Don swaggered over to Emma’s and gallantly held it out as she stood.

As if an afterthought, Don turned to Jack and slyly ordered, "My library…one hour. Be there." And spun around with his attention completely taken with the lovely lady on his arm in a complete dismissal of the suddenly nervous Jack Dawson.

Forcefully exhaling, Jack boyishly grinned, "He’s not going to make this easy, is he?"

Rose slightly giggled and smirked. "Nothing worth having is ever easy."

"Touche, dear heart of mine. Let’s go get you to bed…and then it looks like I’m in for a showdown with your father! I certainly hope it’s not to be my Waterloo."

"Don’t worry, Jack. Just meet Daddy head on. Don’t let him intimidate you…that would be your worst mistake. Of course, don’t be too cocky either. Just be you. He’ll come around…just like I did. Maybe not in a mere two days but…he’ll surrender. Trust me."

"Somehow I can imagine you and him locked in a rather heated battle of wills…bet it was never boring around here, was it? Besides, quite recently, I’ve been trying to put myself in his place…and I can now understand his utter contempt for me…you know, if some guy ever messed with our daughter…shit, just the thought makes me nauseous…and violent!"

Amazed at Jack’s insight, Rose lightly scolded, "Well, Jack, you know we could have a son that turns out just like you also. Sweeping young damsels in distress right off their feet!"

Leaning down to kiss her tempting alluring lips lingeringly, he softly murmured, "Thank you, Rose. I need all the advice and reminders I can get…of course, I knew all along that I had this coming. Still…my palms are sweating."

And they both had to laugh in mirth at themselves and the precarious situation. Bending over Jack scooped her up under her knees while Rose squealed in giddiness and wrapped her arms around his neck. Taking the stairs slowly and with extreme caution, he leered down and roguishly reminisced, "Remember the last time I carried you like this up the stairs?"

Rose’s eyes instantly grew limpid with long repressed desire. Placing her index finger on his lips, she huskily whispered, "My first, my second, my third…"

Throwing back his head with a deep throaty laugh, Jack exchanged promises, "And your last, Rose…and your last."

Those all too familiar words never failed to send shivers of desire down both their spines. The playfulness ended abruptly and erupted into an intense sexual anticipation that had been suppressed and thwarted for four hellish celibate months.

Interlocking eyes of longing, their shallow breaths began to come in spurts and Jack stared down into lust-filled twinkling jade stars. Jack huskily rasped in Rose’s delicate ear causing another sensuous rush of tingling to fill her most private feminine parts, "Which room is yours?"

Pointing the way. "Jack, I need you so bad," Rose shallowly breathed and instinctively quivered in sexual want and need.

Shouldering the door closed, Jack carried Rose to the antique canopied bed and gently laid her down upon the eyelet laced covers. Bending over, he placed an ever so soft tender kiss on her brow and heaved a deep laboring breath in regret.

"Rose, we can’t. If I stay in here a minute longer, I’m going to lose control…again. And what would your father say when I didn’t show up for our meeting with destiny? Because I won’t be able to stop after only one time; once is never enough to satisfy us both and you know it…besides, it’s been way too long and I don’t want to feel rushed when we make mad passionate love again. I want it to go on and on and on. The next time we’re intimate together, we’ll probably and hopefully be husband and wife…Jack and Rose Dawson…sounds like a fairy tale, doesn’t it?"

Holding his breath for her reaction and biting his bottom lip, he anxiously waited.

"Jack! Are you serious? Are you asking me to marry you…to be your wife?"

"My first and my last, Rose!"

Rose’s heart flipped over and she bolted up onto her knees and excitedly wrapped her arms around Jack’s waist despite the previous sexual stupor that Jack had magically cast upon her with his husky passionate promises of sinfully lasting pleasure.

"Oh yes…Jack Dawson! My first…my last! I’ll love you always throughout all eternity. I can hardly wait to become your wife!"

Jack couldn’t help himself; he hungrily devoured her with his mouth. He slipped his searching tongue inside her and she reveled in it. God, he wanted her…it had been so long. And she definitely wanted him. His body hardened and she kept fanning the flames. Pulling him down, down, down into the sheets into the shapely contours of her very feminine body. Offering herself to him like they had all the time in the world. But no…he just couldn’t…not right now! Hockley hated him enough already and if they were found out—shit, there’d be all hell to pay not to mention a terrible world of deep shit…even more so than he was already in! Panting and groaning in frustration, he slowly broke the kiss.

"Damn, Rose…now my pants are so tight, I can’t even walk…your father sees me like this and shit…shit! God, I need a cold shower!"

Sitting up on the edge of her bed, his demeanor suddenly changed and with an oddly seriousness in his voice, he softly summoned, "Come here, though." As he reached around and unhooked her St. Mary’s necklace from around her neck, Rose crinkled her brow in confusion and wonder.

"Remember this?"

Rose stared in shock and awe having never realized that she was even wearing it until that precise moment.

"My necklace…when…how…oh, Jack…thank you! You can’t imagine how I’ve missed it and what it actually means to me! I thought it was lost…forever! It’s been in our family for generations! My mother presented it to me for my first Holy Communion. It was a wedding gift to her from my father."

"It’s the only thing I had left of you after you left Rome. It was the sole source that protected my sanity…such as it was. When you were in the hospital, I figured you needed it more than me—to protect you and keep you for this…"

Jack gingerly took Rose’s left hand and slid the platinum diamond baguette eternity band on her ring finger. A soft gasp escaped Rose’s lips before she somberly spoke with deep sentiment that stemmed from her very soul while her shimmering jade eyes flooded with tears.

"It’s beautiful, Jack and absolutely perfect. How could you have ever known…this is what I’ve always dreamed of…I’ve never liked gaudy jewelry!"

Throwing back his head, he deeply chuckled, "Let’s just say…I remembered a particular cherished memory when we visited an Italian tattoo parlor where you made known your distaste for overly large diamonds. Let’s see…I think you were actually speaking of navel jewelry at the time but…I got the point."

"Oh, Jack…you’re shameless to remind me of my jealousies."

"Yes, I know but as I recall…so are you! Now, lay back down and get some rest…and I’ll see you in the morning. That is, if your father chooses not to murder me and dispose of my carcass in one of those nearby swamps."

"Jack…remember…courage in the face of adversity."

"Yeah, right, Rose. Now, good night…I love you, mia, and pleasant dreams."

"Oh, Jack…" At Jack’s hesitation, Rose impishly teased, "Be sure and lock your door…the boogers might get you."

"Just for that…I’m leaving the door wide open and just the screen latched."

"Good…I’ll see you around midnight then."

Alarmed and shocked to the core, Jack hesitantly protested, "Rose, surely you’re not thinking…do you have any idea what will happen if your father catches us? Shit…he’ll murder me for sure!"

"He won’t catch us, Jack. Trust me. Besides, I need to be taken to the stars again. Care to take me there? Um?"

"Rose…you seductive little temptress…you are a shameless little witch. But seriously, the risk…"

"Risks and daring…they can lead to a very, very exciting night of passion, no? Something about forbidden fruit…it’s been getting men and women in trouble for thousands of years!" Still sensing his hesitant apprehension and trepidation, Rose wasn’t quite finished yet. "You did promise me once in Rome that you’d never deny me if I wouldn’t deny you…and I think I’ve kept my promise, no?"

Throwing back his head in laughter at the reminder that this alluring seductress had brought back up…oh yes, that most memorable night at the opera when he had stalked her in the ladies’ room and she had stolen his heart and soul. How could he ever forget it! Shaking his head at the memory, Jack at last relented and perfectly mimicked Don Hockley’s deep, stern commanding voice to perfection, "Midnight…the garconiere…be there."

Chapter Seventeen
Stories