How Deep The Roots Go ( Book One)

Chapter 47

"Let's head to Ringers," Violet suggested, pushing through the now heavier crowd.

"Sounds good."

Once they were inside, the music overpowered any thought of soundless regret that Temperance had. She was twenty − one years old, she should be out.

The music was alluring, its deep southern draw purred onto the air, giving an exotic, seductive note to the atmosphere. Temperance wanted to dance. She wanted to feel young, be young, and do anything that took her away from her reality. Just one night of living before something else happened that was all too serious for her.

"Let's grab a drink first," Violet took Temperance's hand, lifting it through the crowd. Temperance smiled, happy to oblige, content in the element.

"What will it be?" the bartender asked, wiping his hands on his bar cloth, and then leaning in to the girls. The bar was loud. They had to raise their voices so he could hear their order.

"Bourbon and Ginger," Temperance requested.

The bartender lifted his brow. "That's my kind of girl." He swooped his eyes quickly over her, landing on her red lips. Temperance smiled, batting her eyelashes. It had been a while since she had flirted. She liked the attention; she wasn't going to deny it. He was attractive, with very blonde hair, blue eyes, and a light complexion.Cute, but not her type.

"Well, I'd say he was interested," Violet said, tapping her glass to Temperance's.

"I'm not," Temperance said lightly, sipping her drink. For a fleeting moment she thought of Roman. She hadn't heard, nor seen him since last week at her house when they nearly made love and he left her.

They found a vacant table and stood, placing their clutches on it. The dance floor was packed tonight. She wanted to dance, send her energy somewhere other than it continuously boiling inside of her.

"Violet, let's dance," Temperance announced minutes later, finishing her drink, already walking toward the floor, her clutch under her arm.

"Okay," taking a quick sip, and hurrying to follow Temp to the dance floor. She would get another fresh drink later.

They found themselves both dancing the moment their heels hit the wood floor. In the mix of it, they acquired two men somehow.

Roman watched with irritation. He was working tonight at Angels & Kings, and was outside talking to an old friend when he saw them walking into Ringers. He was surprised they didn't come to his establishment. Angry, he went right over to Ringers and ordered a drink; his usual, Scotch on the rocks. He placed a twenty - dollar bill down, and walked over to the table they had left.

He continued to observe, careful not to lose his temper. He saw the way her body moved against the man that she danced with. Although Temperance seemed clueless to his intention, he was a man; he knew what the man was aiming for. Her...

His jaw clenched when the man took her hair in his hands, and turned her face to him, leaning in to kiss her. Roman's hand gripped his drink a little tighter then.

Temperance turned though, quickly averting the kiss, her back now to the man. She danced seductively, her open hand lifting her heavy curtain of hair then, all the while moving slowly to the music that carried on.

Roman's eyes flicked over every inch of Temperance, right down to her slender ankles. He sipped his drink, then decided what the hell, swallowed it whole, shook off the burn, placed the glass down and walked over to her.

Damn the duty, was all he could think of as he made his way to her. He contemplated picking her up, putting her over his shoulder and taking her home. She would be surprised, angry even. But he didn't give a damn. He was doing this to save her naïve ass.