Whew, these chapters are getting long. To everyone who reviewed--ILYSM!
Alex had figured out an unhealthy but effective way of dealing with Roy Leiton's criminal activity: pretend he had no connection to Rose. It was working out well, until Mr Blunt had called and demanded to know why Alex hadn't already searched Roy's hotel room? Room number 607, between his daughter's room, 608, and his sons' room, 606.
From a brief conversation that afternoon, Alex knew that the Leitons were going out to dinner that night, as a family. From the way Rose grimaced as she told him that, he assumed that Jill would be there too—Alex briefly wondered how Rose was holding up. But tonight was the ideal time to do a quick sweep of the target's room (always "the target", never "Rose's father", or even "the father").
The cast members were all staying in a posh hotel called Le Chateau. The crew was staying in a pokey little hole in the wall two streets away, and it took Alex a minute to walk over. He was dressed in loose black, and armed with his gun and bug sweeper. He snuck into the side door and strolled through the lobby, swinging behind the desk to swipe an electronic key card. He froze as he locked eyes with a stocky man with cold black eyes and black hair, but the man turned casually away. Whew. Next, Alex used the service elevator to get to the sixth floor. Pathetic, really—whatever happened to security?
Alex took a deep breath as he walked into Roy Leiton's room, taking in the setup of it so he could replace things the way they were. He memorized the position of the open suitcases (Jill had seven) and the items on the desk, the remote on the bed. He methodically searched the room, but found nothing. His eyes fell on a phone, tossed carelessly on the dresser. Why would Roy or Jill leave a phone in the room? And wait—Roy had a Blackberry. This was a sleek black Razr…maybe it was Jill's?
The phone rang loudly, startling Alex. He stared at it as it went to voicemail.
Mister Leiton. I am in your lobby. You are not here. If you didn't want what I have to offer, you should have cancelled. Yet you did not. My bosses will be very displeased that I came here for no reason. And when my bosses get displeased, they act…impulsively. You have very beautiful children.
Alex shivered with the implied threat, and recognized the voice as the voice of the second guy in the alley.
Because I don't want to give the bosses reason to think you have cold feet, I have a key and I know your room number. I will drop off the plans and your personal pick-me-up now. I will hide them under the bed. My trouble will cost you, though—next time, pick up your phone.
The door handle turned as Alex shot into the closet and checked his gun. He cursed silently—he had forgotten to put in bullets.
Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit. I am an unprofessional idiot.
Alex peeked through the crack in the closet's doors. The man he made eye contact with downstairs was stashing a briefcase under the bed. He frowned at the sight of the little phone.
Alex made a mental note of the guy's appearance, and almost cried out in pain as his back hit something cold and hard—a door handle. Of course—they must have adjoining rooms. But did it connect to Rose's room or her brothers'?
The door saved Alex's life, for Alex made the second mistake that night. He sneezed.
The man had one foot out the door when he wheeled around, pulling out his (most likely loaded) gun. Alex stumbled blindly through the door, thanking his lucky stars that the entire family was out—until he heard a shower turn off and saw Rose, very wet and very much in a towel, walk out of the bathroom.
Rose stood in the shower, relishing the feeling of the hot water on her hair. Hot water was her favorite way to unwind after a stressful day, and her day had been the hardest day ever. In the beginning, she had vowed to put all thought of Alex out of her mind—but that didn't last very long. She was still wondering how Alex fought of four huge boys at once… it had seemed so effortless, but Rose could only dream of how much practice he'd had. And he had understood her Spanish… he was seriously interesting.
The shock of Jill had been quickly replaced by anger. She had just sat through half an hour's worth of dinner with her, and had come to the conclusion that A) Jill was, in terms of book smarts, an idiot, and B) Jill had the sense to bag a millionaire and had the…talents….to keep him. Also, Jill couldn't stand children—she was barely more than a child herself. Rose was so sick of watching her and Roy flirt that she had escaped with the excuse that she had homework, earning her a baleful look from her brothers. Sorry, boys. Rose actually did have a mountain of work.
Rose heard a muffled bang, and turned off the water, wrapped a towel around herself and went to investigate. She found herself face to face with a disheveled Alex. She heard a banging on her door.
Rose's mouth opened in a surprised O as she saw Alex standing in her room. The banging on her door continued as she recovered herself enough to inquire, "What the hell?"
"Please—I'm not here…"
"Yes you are! You perv, what are you doing here?"
Rose gasped and nearly dropped her towel as Alex whipped out a gun, momentarily forgetting that it had no bullets in it.
"Answer the door….please, Rose, you don't understand—" he followed her gaze and dropped the gun, "I'm not gonna hurt you, just…"
He dived into Rose's closet, looking apprehensive as she marched towards the door.
"I'm coming, chill…"
The drug dealer was at her door, gun at the ready.
"Is anyone in your room?" He bellowed, scanning it angrily.
"Yes, I am, and will you please get ou—" She spotted the gun in his hand.
"Little girl, what's your name?"
"Rose Leiton, who are you?"
Alex hissed quietly as he said, "Your daddy's friend. I'm not gonna hurt you, kid, I just need to know—are you alone in your room? No blond haired kid, sixteen, dressed in black?"
Rose looked at him steadily before quietly saying, "No."
"Okay. Sorry, kid. Make sure you daddy knows that Link stopped by."
She closed the door and waited a minute before slowly turning to face Alex. He was watching her warily, keeping his distance but staying between her and the phone. "Don't call the police."
"I'm going to go get dressed. When I get back, you need to give me some answers. If you're gone, I WILL call the police." Rose waited for his nod before grabbing some pajamas and heading to the bathroom.
She was gone two minutes but to Alex it felt like a second. He tried to gather his thoughts, think of an excuse—but before he could form a coherent thought that wasn't God, you look hot in a towel, Rose was back.
"Okay, spill." Rose lay on her stomach on her bed, chin in her hands, feet in the air. Alex sank into a chair.
"Ummm…." Alex deliberated. He was about to tell her that she could go ahead, call the police, they knew him, when he made the mistake of glancing at her. She looked so trusting—evidently she had gotten over her fear of him and trusted him to tell her the truth.
Alex gulped and made his decision. He told her everything, starting with his uncle's death. She accepted it calmly, without batting an eyelash, looking suitably impressed as he told her of his escapes. Alex found himself embellishing some of them, delighting in the look on her face—he hadn't felt this way since, well, Sabina. He found himself enjoying the way Rose's face turned cold when he mentioned Sabina, and warmed again as he laughingly reassured her that it was long over.
He hesitated when she asked him what his current mission was. He tried simply saying, "Drug bust, " but Rose frowned at him in mock reproof until he continued on to tell her that MI6 suspected drug activity on set and thought it housed the supplier for most of Hollywood.
He skated over the part about her dad, telling her that he was searching everyone's room. At this Rose laughed and said that there was nothing exciting in hers, would he like to check?
Alex had been in Rose's room for hours when her phone rang. She checked Caller ID and groaned, not picking it up, letting it ring.
I'm Mrs. Lifestyles of the rich and famous
(You want a piece of me)
I'm Mrs. Oh my God that Britney's Shameless
(You want a piece of me)
I'm Mrs. Extra! Extra! this just in
(You want a piece of me)
I'm Mrs. she's too big now she's too thin
(You want a piece of me)
Alex moaned. "My ears!"
"What? Britney Spears is classic."
"Shut up! She has no talent and is only famous for screwing half of Hollywood." Alex glanced at Rose, and then smirked. "Oh, wait—did I just insult a personal friend of yours?"
Rose grinned back. "Hardly. I met her for a second at last year's VMAs. Cute dress." It was true—Rose barely knew her—but even if it wasn't true, Alex looked so damn cute, stretched out next to her on her bed, smirking down at her, hands behind his head….she needed to distract herself. "So what music do you listen to, oh high and mighty god of good music?"
"You tell me first. What's your favorite classic rock song?"
"Umm….Jonas Brothers When You Look Me In The Eye."
"You're joking. Please tell me you're joking."
"Actually, no…should I be?"
"Look, I know you're image is Disney pop princess extraordinaire," he shifted on the bed, rolling sideways and propping up on his elbow to look at her, "but do you listen to bad music because you like it or because you've just never been exposed to good music?"
"Why do I feel like that question has a right answer?"
Alex laughed, taking an Itouch out of his pocket. "Here—listen to this. You'll like it." He gently put an ear bud in Rose's ear and put on the song Don't Cry, by Guns 'N Roses. He watched her reaction to it: she was smiling gently, hair fanned out around her head on the pillow. Alex was suddenly very conscious that she was in short shorts and a tight tank top, while he had shed his dusty shirt a while ago due to the heat of the summer night.
Rose smiled at him when the song ended, her eyes bright. "I loved that. Who's it by?"
"Guns N Roses.. Much better then Miley Cyrus, no?"
Rose reacted automatically, her body tensing as a bright smile plastered itself across her face. "I love Miley."
Alex frowned at her, not fooled. "Rose…you know me…I've told you everything about myself.
And when I'm with you, it feels…right…but then you tense up into movie star mode, and I have no idea who you are sometimes! How can I get close to you when you're two different people?" He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. "Where is my Rose and where is THE Rose Leiton? Who are you, Rose?"
Rose looked up at him, took a deep breath, and smiled. "Hi, I'm Rose. I'm fourteen years old and I live in New York City. I love to act. I have two little brothers who are complete monsters, but I love them anyway. And I think I have a crush on a spy kid called Alex Rider."
"That's all I needed to hear." And he was kissing her, kissing her in a way that made her forget everything but him and her together. Alex had moved on top of her, holding himself on either side of Rose so she felt none of his weight as they continued to kiss, occasionally breaking for air. Alex's lips once again met Rose's as she sighed into his mouth, opening hers enough for him to slide his tongue in.
A while later, Alex adjusted them so that they were in a sitting position, with Rose on his lap, leaning against the wall as Alex grinned down at her.
"You look happy, Rosie. Been doing anything fun lately?"
He laughed as she tackled him against the pillows. They were interrupted by Rose's alarm, which showed that it was midnight.
"Crap, I'd better go before your dad comes to say goodnight."
"I'll see you on set tomorrow…"
Alex winked. "Hell yeah. After tonight, towel included," He smirked as Rose blushed, "I'm coming early."
OK, so here's the thing: I've gotten a ton of hits, which is great. But I've only gotten a dozen or so reviews--which is not so great. And reviews MOTIVATE me and also give me ideas and stuff. Soooo, if you guys like it (or don't like it, come to think of it), drop a line. Gracias!