Viktor Beauchamp might have once been a good man, but this confirmed there was nothing worth saving in him. If he could lie to his own daughter like that… What else did he do?
Flashes of how he’d met Viktor ran through Damon’s mind. The cops, arresting him for punching his mom’s boyfriend when he was abusing her. The court, where a judge not too fond of young hooligans who disrespected authority figures wanted to make an example out of him. The trial, where Viktor had been a more than adequate defense lawyer, and gotten him paroled early. The man had a private practice but occasionally took pro bono cases. It had been both a blessing and a curse to have him as mentor, and intern at his law firm.
While it had turned his life around and helped him focus, not to mention meet Cassandra, the job had also been the reason he’d lost the most important person in his life. Viktor will pay for this, one way or another.
Damon met Cassandra’s gaze once more, and held it. Something in her expression shifted, but she wasn’t running away. Yet. He pounced on the chance while he still could. “That’s not the full story, actually it’s not even a story. I left, yes, but not for the reasons you think.”
“Sure you did.” Cassandra’s eyes shifted from his, avoiding the truth.
Before she could stop him, Damon reached for her chin and forced her to look him at him. “You used to be able to tell when I was lying. Tell me, am I now?”
Flashes of the girl he’d known crossed her expression, though Cassandra did a good job trying to hide it. He could still see the girl he’d helped out with homework, the tougher yet vulnerable side of her he’d fallen in love with…
How can she think I’d leave her? It stung to think that all she recalled of him was his ambitious streak.
It took Damon a second to realize Cassandra had frozen at his touch, and the look in her eyes had changed. When he tuned in to the change in her, he picked up on her quicker breathing, nostrils flaring as if inhaling his scent. Up close, he could now smell the vanilla perfume emanating from her skin, and he wanted nothing more than to sample her lips.
Cassandra’s eyes widened, the anger set aside by the pure chemical reaction they had to one another. The blazing glare, so eager to put him in his place, dimmed now to a sense of assessment.
Damon had been used to girls throwing themselves at him in the military, but he’d never been interested in more than a night. Only one woman had occupied his thoughts, and she was now so close every instinct in him screamed to make her his.
My little spitfire.
While Cassandra sized him up, Damon looked his fill as well. She had grown into a beautiful woman, something he never doubted. Those hazel eyes that changed color with her mood were a startling smoky blue at the moment, almost a pure reflection of the darkening sky. Her long, wavy brown hair fell out of her ponytail, and he had an insane urge to tuck it back behind her ear.
Her breathing was erratic as she ran through a multitude of emotions – all showcased on her face, despite how much she tried to conceal them. Damon’s gaze skimmed over her top, which up close did little to hide her considerable assets. Her trim waist and hips were inviting, to the point his hands itched to hold her.
Shit.
Damon stepped back, letting go of Cassandra and attempting to readjust his thinking. He’d been able to control his fear and disgust in the missions he participated in, yet mere seconds in her presence and his control flew out the window.
He chose to focus instead on the one thing that didn’t fit from his first-hand assessment: her wariness. Cassandra’s reaction to him, he could understand, especially given the lies she’d been told. But she was an open book, or at least had been. Yet there she stood, looking at the world not with the rosy glasses of a pampered princess, but rather with the knowing eyes of someone who had seen.
One thing at a time, the rational part of him warned, and Damon retreated mentally. Whatever else happened that wasn’t in her file, he would find out. And if anyone had hurt Cassandra, he would make it his life’s mission to turn theirs hell.
Keeping close to her would be no problem at all. His mind was already in the gutter, and all he could think of was spending the rest of his life making up for leaving, and showing her his love.
Because no matter what she thinks, Cass was made for me, and I for her. One way or another, I’ll make her understand… Especially once I take care of her bastard stepfather.
The thought alone made his blood boil.
♥∞♥
No way. Just…hell to the no.
Cassandra’s flight or fight instinct stopped working the minute Damon touched her, looking at her with truth in his eyes and swearing he hadn’t left for fame and glory. She’d locked the pain away, swearing high and low that she was over him.
Yet there she was, staring at him for what felt like hours, unable to stop. His touch had brought back that one, innocent kiss they’d shared, before he’d vanished the next day. And all she remembered was the guy she’d known in her teens. He’d been everything a foolish girl could wish for. Everything Cassandra knew she could never have again.
“Damon…”
The name was dragged from her, almost as if she was testing it. The taste of that kiss, long ago, was almost on her lips and she couldn’t help her gaze from falling to Damon’s mouth. It was as if some force of destiny had drawn them together yet again, and their involuntary reactions were beyond either of their control.
The more she stared in his eyes, the more Cassandra wanted to run and never look back, despite how cowardly that was. In complete contradiction, another part of her wanted to stay and talk to him, ask him what had happened, and reconnect. Deep down, she wanted to believe him when he said he hadn’t left for money.
That unyielding faith in him, more than anything, scared the hell out of her and she instinctively took another step back. Ignoring Damon’s narrowed eyes, Cassandra kept a cool voice as she addressed him. “What are you doing here, Damon?”
“Montréal has always been my first home. I was bound to come back, don’t you think so?” His tone, in contrast, was casual and the smile never left his face. Yet there was nothing genuine about it, rather it seemed forced and impersonal. The coldness of his expression struck her in a very unfamiliar way, at odds from his warmth so long ago.
This man in front of her had little to do with the boy Cassandra had once known. Gone was the openness, the frankness, replaced by a stoic composure and inscrutable mask. It was more proof she should have nothing to do with him – ever.
With that in mind, she turned around and was about to stalk off without another word. Damon was quicker, as if having read her mind. In just a few steps, he blocked her path, his arms folded across his chest.
The way he towered over her by a head raised Cassandra’s hackles even further. She tilted her chin up to stare him squarely in the eyes and raised one eyebrow in what she hoped was a polite enquiry. “It’s great you came back to your roots, Damon, but I don’t see what that has to do with me. Was there something you needed?”
He seemed unsettled for a fraction of a second, a tiny flicker of something flashing in his eyes. Good.
Cassandra’s small victory was short-lived, as a mask slipped over Damon’s face, and he became the stranger yet again. What happened to you? The question was on the tip of her tongue, but she bit it back – barely. It was not her business what he’d been up to for the last few years, nor did she want to know why he’d stayed away for so long. She inhaled sharply, resolved not to let Damon see her reaction.
“As a matter of fact,” Damon started suavely, “I wanted to offer you a ride home.”
“Thank you, but I prefer running to riding. In any car.” Cassandra stepped to the side in an attempt to walk around him, but yet again he moved with her.
“Cass, let me drive you home. I’m in the neighbourhood, anyway. It’s better than having you run into even more trouble.” He had the nerve to chuckle at that. “Some things never do change, do they?”
When she glared up at him, genuine amusement glittered in his eyes, but Cassandra refused to bite. “And yet, some do. I’m capable of taking care of myself, thank you very much. I’m sure you can agree, after what you witnessed.”
With each word, each glance, Cassandra heartbeat increased. Too fast. She needed to leave before she said something she would regret. This is too much, too soon.
Damon’s eyes raked over her body, and she flushed angrily when he still refused to move. “Get out of my way, Damon. I don’t need you to drive me home.” She paused for a beat, glaring. “I said, move.”
The warning tone – and the anger behind it – would have unsettled more than one adult. All Damon did was stare at her, immovable, and say, “I insist.”
She was about to insist for him to step away when a definite challenge surfaced in his eyes.
♥∞♥
“Unless, of course, you’re afraid.” The words passed Damon’s lips, and it was too late to bite them back. He knew he was baiting the little spitfire, but she was making it too easy.
Shock flared in Cassandra’s eyes, enough to part that pretty mouth. All he wanted was to bend lower and have a taste – just one – but he held back.
“Afraid?” Disbelief collared her tone. “Of what?”
A few things came to mind, but none Damon could point out in the moment. It hadn’t escaped his notice that Cassandra was too busy being mad at his return to question whether there was more going on. If her attitude to him was a prelude to what would follow, he was in for a hell of a ride – and he intended to enjoy each moment in her presence.
Instead of warning her and revealing things she was not ready to hear, Damon opted to continue for the current tone. “You tell me.”
Though it came off more challenging than intended, the words had the desired effect. Cassandra bit her bottom lip as though to stop from screaming at him. Then, she scoffed and stomped towards his car, stopping only once she reached the locked door.
“Are you coming or what?”
Damon didn’t bother answering, instead striding closer to her. By the time she realized how close he was, she was stuck between the car and him, and her eyes widened. “What are you–”
Damon lifted his hand as if to caress her cheek, watching her eyes widen. Her breathing picked up again, and he hid a smug grin. At least your body reacts to me, Cass. The rest, I can conquer little by little.
He moved his hand and the car keys appeared as if by magic. While beeping the car to unlock it, Damon watched Cassandra closely. She tried to hide it, but the disappointment in her eyes was unmistakeable.
After a beat of stunned silence, Cassandra slid through the open door and into the car, almost dropping into the leather seat in relief.
“Buckle up.”
Ignoring her scowl, Damon headed to the driver’s side, keeping his satisfaction under wraps.
♥ Chapter 5 ♥
The leather was smooth against her backside, cool after the heat of the outside. Yet Cassandra still felt flushed, and she had an inkling it was tied to the man driving the powerful vehicle.
Out of the corner of her eye, she sneaked a glance at Damon. She wanted to resent the way he still knew which buttons to push, but something about seeing him, having a chance at closure… And then risk him breaking my heart again? No way. Cassandra pushed all thoughts firmly away from anything resembling feelings, and instead focused on his features.
Damon’s jaw was set, eyes fixed on the road. There was a hardness to him now that had erased all trace of the boy she’d known. Even more so, he had a certain haunted look about him, evident in the way he inspected their surroundings yet never lost control of the car.
On some level, Cassandra wondered what had brought him back. And where was he all this time?
Theorizing kept her busy and she didn’t realize they had entered her street until they were pretty much at her house. And then it hit her – she’d never given Damon her address.
Cassandra whirled to him, determined to get answers. “How the hell did you know where I live?”
Damon took his time turning off the engine, rolling a shoulder as if to ease unseen tension, and finally met her gaze. “Well, that’s a loaded question, and it requires a rather long answer.” He glanced out the window to her small bungalow. “Invite me in?”
Cassandra’s jaw went slack at the innocuous question. While she tried to get over her shock, the silence grew deafening in the small space of the car. Through it all, Damon maintained his stare, unapologetic.
“How dare you?” The words tumbled out of Cassandra’s mouth in an angry hiss, more spitting than a hellcat ready to fight.
To his credit, Damon barely blinked at her tone, and the tirade that followed.
“You come waltzing back in here after ten years and expect to just catch up and do small talk? I damn well don’t think so!”
Trembling with rage and hurt, she jumped out of the car and stomped her way over to the door. When she reached for the keys in her back pocket, they slipped out of her shaky hands. The nerve of him!
Before she could reach down, Damon’s voice washed over her. “Let me.”
In one fell swoop, Damon picked up the keys and inserted them in the lock, then opened the door. Cassandra held out her hand in silent demand for her keychain, but he only shook his hand. A heartbeat later, he broke the silence. “I know I have a lot to explain, but now is not the time.”
“And why not?” Cassandra folded her arms.
Damon grimaced in response, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s a really long story, Cass. Some of it, you may not even believe. I owe you the truth, you’re right, but–”
A loud ring made Cassandra jump, and Damon trailed off. From deep in the hall of her house, her landline was obnoxiously demanding her attention. No one ever called it – except Viktor. And his sudden reappearance predicted nothing good.
Cassandra scowled at Damon. “Come in, but don’t make yourself comfortable. I need to take this.”
It didn’t escape her notice Damon still had her keys, but another ring turned her focus to the matter at hand. Stomping inside, Cassandra growled into the phone, “Yes, father?”
“Is that any way to greet your old man?” Viktor’s raspy voice seemed to get worse every time he called, but Cassandra felt none of the usual concern. If smoking kills him, that’s his deal.
“Sorry.” The excuse was half-assed, but the slight guilt she felt at her tone was quickly washed away by the certitude he’d barely register her words anyway.
As if on cue, Viktor said, “Is it true what I heard? You quit your job at The Gazette?”
For a moment, Cassandra could only gape at the phone. How the hell did he know? It was true that Viktor had always had an uncanny way of finding out things, but this, out of nowhere after not talking to her for four months?
Only one explanation remained.
“Are you having me followed?” Cassandra’s hiss was meant to be only for Viktor’s ears, but Damon was close behind, not even attempting to conceal his eavesdropping.
As her adoptive father sputtered on the phone, Cassandra cut him off. “You know what? Doesn’t even matter. I can’t talk right now, bye.”
She slammed the phone down on the counter, glaring as if it would bite her.
“Was that Viktor?”
Cassandra faced Damon, resuming her folded-arms stance. “And if it was?”
To her surprise, he only frowned, eyes shining with worry. “What did he say?”
She considered not answering for a minute, but it would have been petty. “To know why I quit my job today.”
“At The Gazette?”
Again, her jaw dropped. “Seriously, what the hell is going on?”
♥∞♥
Damon debated how much he could tell her, already guessing by the fire in Cassandra’s eyes that he had to be truthful. A lie would only build more distrust, and the gulf between them was already filled with half-truths and bet
rayal. Yet his military training and years of experience whispered to tread carefully, and not jump into trusting she was fully innocent in the entire mess.
“We think your father is involved in some shady dealings.”
To her credit, Cassandra didn’t seem shocked or upset. After staring at him for a long moment, she spun on her heels and headed into the kitchen. Bemused, Damon followed and watched as she poured herself a glass of water, holding one out for him as well.
He accepted the drink with a nod and downed it in a few large gulps. After setting the glass in the sink, he waited while Cassandra digested his words.
When she finally lifted her gaze from the ground, it was to ask a single question. “Who’s we?”
“Me and my team.” At her frown, Damon shrugged. “I own a private security company. To keep it short, we stop bad things from happening, and do our best to correct them when they do.” A pause, then, “Word got across the ocean of a group being involved in nefarious dealings and Viktor’s name came up once we dug deeper.”
He kept out the part where he’d had Amy specifically scour the underground networks for snippets of drama concerning Viktor Beauchamp. Damon might have left ten years earlier, but he hadn’t forgotten why. It had been only a matter of time until the excuse he’d been yearning for had presented itself.
“And that’s what brought you here?”
Cassandra’s tone dragged his attention away from the past. She was keeping her facial expression neutral, but was that disappointment he heard in her tone? If it was, Damon counted it as a step forward.
“Yes,” he admitted, not technically lying. But now might not be the time to reveal the full extent of the issue.
“What kind of dealings?”
Damon hesitated, watching her closely. She met his eyes without trying to shy away, tilting her chin just so in defiance. He held back a smile at the flash of a challenging younger version of her popping in his head.
That image was shattered when the air around them shifted. Awareness crept up his back, and his body reacted to their mutual staring contest. He hadn’t expected the reunion to be easy, but the way Cassandra kept challenging him only cemented his belief in their future. I’ll get through to you, Cass. It may take me a while, but those walls will crumble and I’ll make you see you can trust me again.
Blood Ties, Love Binds Page 4