by Dawn Brower
“Then we have enough for our own game.” Damian grinned. “Why don’t we make it interesting.”
“I’m all for something interesting?” Liam asked.
Rand followed in close behind him and said, “Please, nothing too exciting. The last time you kept things from me we had to rescue our wives from a mad man. I’d like something a little less stimulating.”
There was a story there. Damian would ask about it later. If he were to guess, it probably had something to do with Paolo. Why would he have kidnapped all three women? There were some things Arturo hadn’t told him.
Liam rolled his eyes. “We didn’t intend for them to be taken. How many times do we have to apologize for that mess?”
“For the rest of your miserable life,” Rand quipped. “If you’d let me know what was going on, maybe I could have kept Lily home.”
Noah snorted. “What delusional world are you living in? You do know your wife is one of the stubbornest women to ever been born, right?”
Damian hid a smile. He missed this. He didn’t know Rand well, but he hoped to become good friends with him. Liam and Noah were best friends, and included him whenever he visited his sister. Rubina marrying Noah had been one of the best things to happen to her—and him. It gave them more of a family. They had their father, but no one else.
Rand narrowed his eyes and glared at Noah. “Watch how you’re speaking about Lily. She’d the epitome of everything that is wonderful, and I’ll not have you impugning upon her sparkling reputation.”
Liam laughed and clutched his chest. “I love Lily. I do. She is my sister after all… But, Rand, you are being a bit blind to her faults.”
“No more than you or Noah regarding your own wives.”
“He does have a point, gentleman,” Damian interrupted. “How do you feel about a game of cards?”
They all turned toward him and nodded. Each of them pulled a chair out and sat around the table. Damian was glad he’d ventured out of his rooms. The evening looked to be entertaining already. Once Pearla came, he could claim a dance—or three, and begin to convince her they belonged together. In the meantime, a rowdy good card game would hold his attention.
Liam shuffled the cards and dealt them to each player. He looked across the table and asked Damian, “So, are you going to finally get around to telling us where you’ve been for the past couple of years?”
Damian sighed. He knew at some point he would have to explain what Paolo had to done him. He didn’t want to relive the experience. It had been hell for too long. He was finally free, and all he wanted to do was forget the horror he’d endured. It was time to move forward with his life. Living in the past was not on his agenda.
“I hadn’t planned on talking about it at all,” he explained.
“Rubina isn’t going to let you get away with that. You might as well practice with us. Tell us the gruesome details so we can keep them from our wives’ innocent ears.” Noah picked up his cards and sorted them. “You know you can tell us anything. We won’t judge.”
Noah, Rand, and Liam were not going to allow him keep his secrets. If he let them, they’d pull every single one. Maybe he should talk about it. Then the men would leave him alone.
“There isn’t much to tell.” He didn’t glance up from his cards. Damian knew if he did, he’d see their gazes trained on him, awaiting his response. He didn’t want to see pity in their eyes. “Paolo arranged for me to serve an indenture on an island of hell.”
Dead silence.
He glanced up and didn’t quite observe what he thought he would. No sympathy for what had happened to him. What he saw was more on the brink of intense rage about to explode.
“What exactly did you have to do on this island?” Liam asked, quietly.
“I don’t really want to discuss it. The good news is I’m no longer there. I have a friend that helped me escape. He’s on his way home to his family in India. If not for Hian, I might not have survived. I owe him my life.”
“Fair enough,” Noah agreed. “Why don’t you explain what Pearla had to do with any of it.” This was something different entirely. Damian expected Noah to be protective of her. It only surprised him it had taken him this long to broach the subject.
“Pearla had nothing to do with my indenture.” Damian flipped a card onto the table. “She is the only good thing that has happened to me in the past couple of years.”
Noah set his cards down and studied him. He didn’t say a word for several seconds. They seemed to tick off in his head with a steady beat of uncertainty. He had no clue what was going on through the duke’s head.
“How did you two meet?” He folded his arms across his chest. “I wasn’t aware you two had been introduced.”
Damian tossed his cards on the table. This game had taken a different turn. The men had lost interest as they sought details on his misfortune. The only way to get them to leave it be was to tell them everything. He scrubbed his hands across his face and took a deep breath. “It’s a long story, and you’re not going to like any of it.”
“Start from the beginning,” Noah offered. “It’s usually a good place for a story to unfold from.”
Damian nodded. He told him about Captain Blythe—what Pearla believed was their phony wedding ceremony, and finished with his indenture. He left out some details. Like the hot sun, his often burned skin, along with the bruises and cuts he suffered daily. The long hours and the malnourishment topped the list of evil he had to endure, but were not the worst for him. The belief that Pearla needed him is what kept him going. He’d had to find the strength to survive and find her. Now that he had, she didn’t want him around. A part of him was devastated to hear her harsh words. He wouldn’t give up on her. Thinking of her every night saved his life, and he believed they were meant to be together. It would take a little longer to convince her of it as well.
“What are you going to do?” Rand asked. “Speaking from experience—a stubborn woman is going to run fast and as far as possible before she admits she wants to be with you.”
Liam snorted. “I thought my sister was the epitome of all that as wonderful in the world.”
“And she is.” He grinned. “But despite what you think, I am aware of every one of her faults. If we’d not been forced to spend time on a ship for weeks, she would have never sat still long enough for me to court her. Damian here is at a disadvantage. Pearla isn’t afraid to travel the world to flee his presence.”
“Thanks, man. That is all the encouragement I needed,” Damian said, blandly. “I’m so glad we took the time to discuss this. It’s been extraordinarily useful.”
Noah shook his head. “Rand has a point. Our women, and yeah, I’m including Pearla because I have no doubt you’ll be able to convince her you two belong together, are incredibly obstinate. You need a plan, and lucky for you we are willing to help you devise one.”
Damian smiled. These men were allies he never thought he would have in his life. He was blessed to have them, and soon he would have Pearla too. His patience was running thin. He hadn’t seen her in far too long. It was time to seek her out and start his campaign to win her. Her retreat was about to end for good. You couldn’t win a war if you didn’t have any battles to fight.
“Thanks for the offer, but I already have one I’ve put into motion.” Damian tapped his fingers together. “Although I might need your assistance with one thing, Noah.”
“Tell me what you need and it’s yours.” Noah sat back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. “I’d like to see Pearla happy, and there isn’t much I wouldn’t do for her.”
Everything was starting to fall into place, except for the minor detail of Pearla ignoring him. He had every bit of faith he’d see her come around to his way of thinking though. He needed a bit of time to convince her that she could trust him. He had no doubts and soon neither would she.
Liam grinned. “Pearla doesn’t know what’s about fall at her feet, does she?”
No, she didn�
��t, but she was about to find out. He pushed his chair back and stood. “This game has been fun, but I have a lady I need to seek out. We should do this again soon.”
“Good luck,” Noah replied. “You’re going to need it.”
“I don’t need luck.” Damian wiggled his eyebrows. “I have my charm, and she’s already succumbed to it on more than one occasion. It’s only a matter of time before she caves for good.”
Their laughter followed him as he exited the card room. He needed to locate the blonde goddess that had snared his attention two years ago. She was about to realize Damian fought for what he wanted, and Pearla was a woman worth fighting for.
He weeded his way through the haute ton and stopped when he saw her. She stood with her friends: Lily, Gemma, and his sister, Rubina. She was stunning. Her golden hair was wound on her head into a perfect chignon, a few curls falling loose around her shoulders. Her gown was a sapphire blue that matched her eyes. He could close his eyes and picture the jewel tone gazing up at him. Now he had to convince her she wanted to dance the next waltz with him. He narrowed the distance between them and stopped in front of her. Her gaze met his as a weary smile formed on her face.
“Damian,” Rubina said, excitedly, “I’m so glad to see you. I expected you would come by and tell me where you’ve been all this time.”
Damian hugged his sister. “I’m sorry I’ve been so remiss. I’ve been occupied with getting my affairs in order. I will pay call soon.”
She pouted. “Is that your way of saying this isn’t the place to discuss it?”
Damian barely held back a smile. His sister was relentless. He would have to make sure to visit her, or she’d come looking for him.
“Yes, Rue, it is.”
“Have you seen my husband?” Gemma asked, clutching her stomach with one of her hands. “I need to leave.”
“I have,” Damian said. “He is in the card room with Noah and Rand.”
She nodded and headed toward the room he’d just left. Gemma Marsden didn’t look well. Her face was devoid of all color. Liam would take care of her. Damian wouldn’t worry about her welfare. There was another lady that had his full attention.
“I think we should follow after her,” Lily stated. “It might be a good time for us all to leave.”
“I agree.” Rubina nodded. “Damian, don’t forget to come see me.”
Lily and Rubina followed after Gemma. Pearla had been doing her best to pretend he wasn’t near. Her face was soft pink, and her eyes darted in every direction—avoiding looking at him directly. Damian wasn’t fooled. Her cheeks were rosy with desire. When she started to follow after the other ladies, he stepped in front of her.
“Hello, cara. Dance with me.” He didn’t give her a chance to decline. He led her to the dance floor as the strands of the waltz filled his ears. It was perfect.
Chapter Eleven
Pearla basked in the warmth of Damian’s arms. She’d tried to escape before he’d led her out to the dance floor, but he was faster than she was. The last thing she wanted was to give the ton something else to talk about. If she’d outright snubbed him, it would have been food for the gossipmongers. Just a dance might be overlooked—though even that took things further than she wished to go. She wouldn’t even be at the Silverton ball if Gemma hadn’t insisted. Her friend meant well.
She sighed. “What game are you playing now?”
“I promise you, cara, you are nothing I would trifle with. You’re important to me.”
She couldn’t trust he meant it. Her bruised heart wouldn’t survive another blow. He made her weak, and she never wanted to be weak for another man again. His transgressions were perhaps worse than Noah’s had been. She could forgive the duke. How was he to know the love of his life was still alive? Now she could look back and be happy for them. They had a wonderful family and Noah smiled frequently. It was a side of him she’d not seen before.
“I wish I could believe you.” She truly did. “But I can’t.”
Damian led her though the steps of the dance. Each one brought them a little closer together. He was maneuvering her where he wanted her to be, fully encased in his arms. The small distance the dance allowed apparently wasn’t enough for him. She couldn’t fault him, at least not completely. There was a part of her that wanted to be as close to him as possible and breathe his alluring scent. To be lost in everything that was this man—could be intoxicating.
Her heart beat faster as she stared up into his silver eyes. It warred with many varied emotions, many of which she didn’t know if she’d be able to continue denying him. She wanted to cave and let him lead her down the decadent path his gaze promised her. Just once she wanted to lose herself and not think about what consequences lay ahead of her. If only she was a different person, in a different place, she’d fall into his arms and not look back. Sadly, she couldn’t allow any of it. She’d drown in the emotional overload and crash into a mess of denial afterward.
“What will it take to convince you we belong together?” He rubbed his thumb across her hand leaving a trail of heat in its wake. “I’ll do anything. Tell me what you need from me, and it’s yours.”
His gaze pleaded with her—twin pools of molten silver. Her resolve was beginning to shatter. Soon all the walls she erected would tumble down around her. She needed fortification. Something, anything, to keep her from falling all over again for this charismatic man…
“I can’t…” She was at a loss for words.
The strands of the waltz came to a winding halt. He smiled down at her and led her off the dance floor. Damian let go of her arm at the edge of the ballroom, near the balcony. He bowed to her. “Perhaps you would consider a stroll outside.”
She could use a breath of fresh air. The cool air might also help her overheated skin. Being near Damian always warmed her from the inside out. He made her feel…more than anyone ever had.
“Damian, love, it’s so good to see you.”
Pearla turned. A woman with midnight hair and emerald eyes approached them. Her gown was the same jewel tone as her stunning eyes. She kept moving forward until she was almost on top of Damian. An exaggeration, but Pearla wanted to push her away. She was too close, too beautiful, too everything, and it made her feel inferior in comparison. Who was she and why was she overly familiar with him?
Damian’s jaw clenched. “Camellia, it’s been a while.”
“Too long.” She pouted. “Where have you been? I’ve missed you so.”
Camellia rubbed his forearm with her ungloved hand and batted her eyelashes at him. Damian gazed down at her through hooded eyes. “I think you know exactly where I’ve been. When did you get back? I heard you’d made an unexpected trip.”
“If I’d know you were looking for me, I’d have stayed in London.” She licked her plump lips and smiled coyly. “Now that I’ve returned, you can pay a call whenever you like. For you, I’m always available.”
Pearla clenched her teeth. This is what he did with his spare time? He visited this…this…harlot? To think she’d been about to give in and tell him she wanted him too. Thank heavens she’d not said those words. He could keep company with his mistress. Pearla was done with him. Tears threatened to spill from the corner of her eyes. She had to put some distance between her and Damian before they fell down her cheeks in truth. She would not let him know how much he hurt her. As far as she was concerned, he could go to hell.
“Pardon me,” she said, sarcastically. “I’ll let you two get reacquainted.”
“Pearla, wait…”
She spun on her heels to leave. She could hear Damian call out to her, but she ignored him. The Devil belonged with his lover. Pearla was just a challenge. A woman who denied him and he couldn’t have that. Too bad. She wasn’t a prize for him to add to his conquests.
The balcony called to her. She needed the cool night air for an entirely different reason. Heat coursed through her body, different than what she felt in Damian’s arms. This heat was full of anger and
humiliation.
“I thought I saw you inside,” a voice called to her. “I was beginning to think I’d never see you again.”
Pearla turned. Lord Addison was heading toward her. She frowned and shook her head. When she left Damian, she’d wanted peace, but mostly she wanted to be alone. Lord Addison was the last person she’d expected to see. She’d been avoiding him with as much fervor as she’d ignored Damian. Neither man wanted what was best for her. They both saw her as something they needed to acquire. A trophy to put on a shelf and admire, but not really know or understand.
She curtsied. “Lord Addison. It’s good to see you.” It wasn’t, and she stopped short of rolling her eyes. “I trust you’re well?”
“I am.” He nodded. “Who was that gentleman I saw you dancing with.”
His mouth formed a flat, white line. He didn’t like the idea of her dancing with Damian. She looked away so he wouldn’t see the disdain in her eyes. Lord Addison didn’t have a right to be upset she danced with another man. He had no claims on her other than the ones in his own mind. She belonged to no one and could dance with whomever she pleased.
“Conte Leone is well respected.”
“Is he?” He sounded uncertain. “I don’t know him.”
She spun around and smiled. “He’s the Duchess of Huntly’s brother.”
“Isn’t she…” He turned toward the ballroom and then back to her. “I mean to say, weren’t you engaged to the Duke of Huntly?”
Why did he have to sound so intrigued at the connection? More importantly, why couldn’t the blasted man leave her alone? She had to get away from him. Only then would she obtain the peace she desired. Pearla gazed up at him and fixed a serene smile on her face. She could get through this. She needed to remember to breathe. “Yes, I was.”
His frown was one of disapproval. It was all over his face in the moonlight. “Why are you associating with them? They are not worthy of you. He left you at the altar.”