Defiant Rose by Quinn Colleen

Author:Quinn, Colleen [Quinn, Colleen]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2012-03-19T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

MICHAEL STARED as she descended the stairs. He had been waiting for half an hour, dressed in an elegant black suit with a sparkling white shirt and silk cravat. Women sent him curious glances, for the lean and sophisticated man was startlingly handsome. But some of that composure was shaken when he spied Rosemary.

He had known that she would look pretty in the new dress; what he hadn’t anticipated was just how beautiful. For the first time since he’d known her, he saw her garbed like one of the women of his social class, and the results were astounding.

The forest-green dress set off her fiery hair perfectly and brought out the creamy richness of her ivory skin. Her eyes picked up the color and twinkled impishly, while her soft coral mouth twitched, as if stifling laughter at his stunned reaction. The dress, dipping low in the front to reveal a small, firm bosom, fitted her slender, athletic body with a grace that most women couldn’t attempt. There were no fancy bustles, no ruffles, no disarming laces or ribbons to detract from the simple beauty of the dress, nor the spectacular beauty of the woman in it. Rosemary Carney was an original, and it was never more apparent than tonight.

“Do you like it?” Rose almost giggled when she asked. A warm flood of pleasure washed through her at his approval, particularly when he lifted her face to his, his finger delicately tracing her jawline.

“My God, you are so beautiful. I never knew that just a dress— Who did your hair?” He admired the stunning upswept style that tamed just enough of her red curls, while a few rebellious locks softly framed her face.

“The maid.” Rosemary let out a sigh. She hadn’t realized she’d been holding her breath, wanting so badly to look perfect, to be what he would have wanted. “Where are we going to eat?” She slipped her hand through his arm, feeling self-conscious at the gesture. It seemed ludicrous that Carney would need help to walk from one room to the other, but his chivalrous invitation was too compelling to ignore. And it was strangely enjoyable to be cosseted by a man.

“We’re going to the opera first. Then we’ll get a late dinner at the hotel.”

“The opera?” Rosemary tried to sound enthusiastic, but a thick steak and plenty of ale sounded a lot better to her right now than a highbrow play. “Isn’t that where they sing in a different language and jump around on the stage and nobody understands it?”

“Something like that,” he said, amused. “But I’ll explain it to you, and you’ll understand. Actually, I’m glad to be with you. One’s first opera is a powerful experience.”

“I’m sure.” Rosemary tried to sound convinced, but she hoped that the show wouldn’t be dull. She knew she should try to share Michael’s tastes, but what she’d heard of the opera was not encouraging. For a circus performer to sit through someone else’s boring show was a torment, indeed, and she bravely forced a smile, hoping it wouldn’t look too transparent.

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