Pure White Rose Read online Fawn Bailey (Rose and Thorn #2)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Dark, Erotic, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Rose and Thorn Series by Fawn Bailey
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Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 54496 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 272(@200wpm)___ 218(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
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I couldn’t offer anything back; I only looked deep into those stormy eyes and tried to understand.

“And if I want to leave?” I asked, my voice breaking over the last word.

“Do you?” He raised his eyebrows at me, a simple gesture telling me more than his words ever could.

Why would I want to leave? I had everything in the Mansion - clothes, shoes, food, friends, training. Anything my heart desired.

Except for my freedom.

“No,” I shook my head, not even convincing myself with my answer, but it seemed to be enough for Thorn, who smiled easily, putting an arm around my shoulders and steering me away from the rose garden and the cliffs, back towards the mansion.

“Then you have nothing to worry about,” were his final words to me.

The whole walk back to the house, I wondered whether he was right. After all, I was a bad liar and always had been…

Chapter 8

Rose

It was a couple days later during our usual dinner that my world imploded. I’d spent the day dancing with Amber. Fridays were special to us, because Marchante allowed us to dance more freely than we usually did. No routine, only the usual amount of stretching. Then after that we were free to express ourselves any way we wanted.

I liked Fridays, and I lived for the moment after our training, when Amber and I walked away from the studio with our arms linked and matching bright smiles on our faces.

“Are you coming to lunch tomorrow?” Amber asked happily, and I nodded.

We’d been having lunch together for most of our days, and I enjoyed it. Before she arrived, I hadn’t realized how much I missed having a friend in the proximity, and she had truly become my best friend, my person, the one I could trust with most of my secrets.

Still, the subject of Thorn and the Mansion remained vaguely untouched by us. It seemed like we were walking on hot coals around one another, neither one of us ready to broach the subject, but I wanted to. I desperately wanted Amber to know how trapped I felt and how desperate to get away I was, but I was also afraid of putting her in danger if I told her the truth. After she’d been forced to come live with us, it was the last thing I would’ve done.

“How are you feeling?” I finally managed to ask, and Amber responded with her signature grin.

“I’m feeling good,” she said happily. “The lessons are incredible. I really feel in the zone with Marchante, like I never did with Madame. And I’m happy here.”

“Happy?” I asked dubiously, and our eyes met as we came to a stop in the middle of a long hallway.

“Yes,” she said softly. “I… I told you what my life was like at home. This is like a fairytale come true.”

“But,” I argued right away. “But we never get to leave. We’re stuck here. We’re captives.”

“I’m happy to be a captive if it’s in a place like this,” Amber admitted, and I gave her a doubtful look as she pulled me forward. “Now, come on. Stop dwelling on the past. It’s time to live in the present.”

I said a stiff goodbye to her in front of her room and returned to my own bedroom, where I took a quick shower and prepared for my night with Thorn. Since Pia’s latest stunt, he had made sure to have dinner with me every night and that I fell asleep in his arms, which felt like a haven some nights but a prison on others.

Thorn joined me an hour or so later when I was all dolled up for him just the way he liked. That night, I wore a gold sequined dress that was sleeveless, with a large V-cut at the neck and in the back, and a mermaid shape that flattered my figure. I had already noticed Thorn had a thing for fitted, sequined dresses. There was never a shortage of the latest designer offerings of them in my closet, all custom tailored to my body.

We sat down at dinner while a maid arranged another bouquet of roses in the back of the room. She left silently, and when she did, I looked at Thorn and asked a question that had been on my mind for a couple of days.

“Will you give me one of your… special roses?” I asked softly.

“A forever rose?” he asked, his eyes snapping to mine. “You want one?”

“I would like one,” I admitted. I’d been fascinated by the idea of the flowers, preserved in their beauty for years, spanning their lifetime over a much longer time than they’d been meant to have.

“I told you, Rose,” Thorn muttered. “A forever rose is a promise. Not just from me, but from you, too. I don’t know if you’re ready for that.”


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