by Calista Fox
“What?” she asked, cautiously. “Something else you’ve thought of that’s going to further hurl me off my axis?”
He caught the edginess in her voice. It was full-on warranted.
Damen only wished he had something to tell her that would quell her nerves, smooth all those jagged edges.
He had nothing for her.
Nor was he one to sugarcoat anything related to them.
Returning to where she still stood, he passed the glass to her once more.
Then he settled on the sofa in front of the fireplace, which had a low blaze in the hearth.
He didn’t invite her to join him; though, of course, it was his hope that she would.
He sat forward, his forearms resting on his thighs, both of his hands holding his own cut-crystal tumbler as they dangled between his parted legs.
He said, “I’m a realist by nature. I have to be, Nikki. I have to look at things in an objective, black-and-white vein in order to separate and silo all the facts so that I can later analyze them and investigate the grey areas. But I have to start somewhere.”
She came around the end of the sofa, but moved no farther. Not inching closer to him, as he longed for her to do.
She sipped her drink, then gazed at him, asking, “How does that relate to me?”
“I had to sideline what could happen with your laptop for the sake of focusing on what needed to be done upfront. The backend had to be…”
He shook his head. Swore under his breath.
“Inconsequential,” she whispered.
He heard the pain in her voice and it fucking killed him.
He shot a look her way, insisting, “But you know that’s not how I feel. Right?”
“I…” A shiver ran through her.
At his intensity?
At the dire “consequences?”
He had no idea.
“Nikki,” he quietly asserted. “I never considered the backend result to be of no value. Not even to be of lesser value. But I had to obtain that information—that’s my bottom line. That’s my cut-and-dried, my absolute. The rest… It’s not any less relevant, it’s just…subject to being a casualty of war.”
More tears sprang to her eyes.
“Goddamn,” he grumbled again—and leapt swiftly to his feet.
He set his cocktail on the coffee table and took two wide strides to reach her. His fingertips swept her tears away the very second they spilled.
“Hey,” he said as his hands cupped her face. “We could be torturing ourselves for no good reason here.”
Dare he offer her some sort of hope? Take back the extremeness of the situation, and instead attempt to return to her the positive affirmation he’d stolen by even broaching this subject?
And Jesus Christ, the only reason he’d brought it up in the first place was because…
“Nikki, I was just trying to be honest with you earlier. Open. I don’t want to keep anything from you. The unfortunate reality of that honesty is that I ended up hurting you in the process. And robbing you of the optimism you were clinging to. I’m an asshole for—”
“Doing your job?”
She stared up at him, the confusion still clouding her usually vibrant green eyes. He missed how the firelight—or any light—typically caught them and made the rich emerald irises appear multifaceted as they sparkled at all angles.
He missed the glimmer in them. And the spunk in her voice. He missed her radiant smile.
All things he’d taken away from her.
His hands dropped to his sides and he whirled around, scooping up his glass and taking a healthy drink.
“Damen?” she quizzically murmured.
Glancing at her over his shoulder, he said, “I would never intentionally put you through this sort of hell. I don’t expect you to believe that. But… It’s true. I swear it. To the depths of my soul. I swear it on Mads’ life.”
Her hand flew to her mouth. More fat drops tumbled down her flushed cheeks.
Damen was not toying with her or preying on her emotions. He never would. He was one-hundred percent genuine.
And his own emotions were so tightly wound around hers that he’d only jack his program if he deviously tried to manipulate hers.
He earnestly said, “I’m feeling like the biggest piece of shit for what I’m doing to you, but I have an obligation to see through. And all I can tell you, Nikki, is that when all is said and done, I will do whatever the fuck I have to in order to prove to you that none of this was meant to destroy you. I would never—”
His jaw set.
More emotion swelled so fast and furiously within him, even a deep drink of whisky couldn’t help him swallow it down.
She stared at him, unwaveringly.
And breathlessly, intensely asked, “What are you feeling, Damen? Right this very second?”
He couldn’t lie. He couldn’t hide. Not to her, not from her.
He held her gaze as he said, “That I love you, Nikki, and I would never hurt you on purpose and I will do every fucking thing I can to make up for this.”
She sucked in a breath.
Then said, “I—”
24
“You don’t have to say anything,” Damen quickly told her, cutting her off. Before she uttered another word. Before she even drew in another breath. “All you have to do is understand, accept… No, not even accept what I’ve just told you. Just…try to understand it.”
He stepped away from her and began to pace. Then he pulled up short and abruptly turned to face her.
“I’m not intentionally trying to make things more difficult for you, to complicate matters further,” he told her, earnestly. “But you deserve honesty, Nikki. You deserve for me to be forthcoming and transparent with you. Unfortunately, that does lead to things being more difficult, more complicated.”
“I don’t think you’re trying to deceive me, Damen,” she delicately, tentatively replied, clearly assessing this new development. “You’ve protected me. Put your own life in danger for me.”
“And I would do it again and again, Nikki,” he vehemently avowed.
“I know you’re not trying to hurt me,” she genuinely expressed. “And I can’t, in good conscious, allow myself to believe that you purposefully put my memories of my dead husband at risk. That you would compromise something that means so much to me…unless you absolutely had to.”
“I—”
She held up a hand to stop him. Took a sip of her cocktail. Then said, “You’re not a petty man. Or a shallow or vindictive one. You have some strong feelings for me.”
His brow jumped, because…that was putting it mildly.
“Some of those feelings are related to the scenario we’ve found ourselves in, the jeopardy we’ve been in—are still in.”
Now, he set aside his glass and folded his arms over his chest and smirked at her.
“I’m not demeaning or belittling your emotions, Damen,” she rightfully asserted. “I’m carefully assessing them.” She took a bigger drink from her own tumbler.
He could use a good swig himself. But he remained rooted where he stood.
Though, he did say, “I made a declaration you want to psychoanalyze. I comprehend that’s in your nature.”
“Fully,” she concurred.
“So I accept your reticence to embrace what I’ve said, while still knowing you aren’t shying away from it.”
She was still standing here, after all. And the glint of light rimming the challenge in her emerald eyes told him there was a part of Dr. Nikki Kane that wanted to confess she had strong feelings for him as well.
Hell, she’d already begun traveling that path, back at the hotel room in New York.
He’d prefer to have the opportunity with her to bide his time. Let this all play out in a comfortable, natural progression. But there was a sense of urgency around the periphery that made him anxious.
He didn’t know how much more concentrated, isolated time he’d get with her. And attempting
to sort through all the emotional minutia was a complexity unto itself.
Especially when they were both under duress. And nothing had been resolved yet with his case or her computer…or her safety.
“Listen,” he reasoned. “All I care about at the moment is that you know I’m not being duplicitous with you. That what’s happened between us—what continues to happen between us—isn’t a part of any strategy or operational tactic. It’s sincere.” He pinned her with an unwavering look.
“I’m not discounting anything,” she told him. “And I’m certainly not questioning or minimizing your efforts—in any vein.”
She paused.
He neither spoke, nor rushed her in any way. This was all very sensitive. He grasped that. Was just as mired in the criticality of it as she was.
Nikki polished off her drink and returned the glass to the wet bar. Then she faced him again.
“I don’t want you to feel as though I’m not grateful for everything you’ve done for me.”
He resisted the urge to grind his teeth. “I don’t need to hear this. I know it already. And it’s not your gratitude I’m angling for.”
Her brow dipped. “If you’re not being duplicitous with me, as you’ve stated, then what are you angling for, Damen?”
“The same level of transparency as I’ve given you,” he very seamlessly announced. Without a moment’s hesitation.
Her jaw slackened.
But she quickly collected herself.
“I’m not sure any of my rationale can be trusted at present,” she told him. “I’m dog-tired and my mind is whirling and… I don’t like to make hasty decisions or admissions.”
She gazed at him for endless seconds.
He finally said, “You know that’s not what I did. Nor am I pressuring you to return the sentiment.”
Didn’t that always drive a wedge between two people—when one was there, mentally, and the other was not?
He sank into the corner of the sofa, propping himself against the mound of pillows. He raked a hand through his hair. And told her, “Take the bed. We both need some sleep.”
Though Damen knew he wouldn’t catch even a wink, not with all that lingered between them. And with Nikki in his bed, while he was here on the couch. While she was so close, and yet…so far away.
She took a few steps toward the California king. Stopped. Glanced over her shoulder at him and boldly asked, “Why, do you suppose, you’ve never been in love before? I am the first woman you’ve said those words to, right?”
“You are.” He inhaled deeply. Exhaled slowly. And told her, “I don’t believe in arbitrarily saying them and I don’t believe they should be said lightly, without one-hundred percent conviction.”
He gave her a few moments to let that sink in.
Then he continued, more simply saying, “When it’s right, it’s right. You feel it in your bones. At least, that’s what my mother always told me. To tell you the truth, I previously never felt any raw and real emotion, beyond a hint of superficiality. Certainly never in my bones and certainly not in my soul. Until now. With you.”
Tears rimmed her eyes again, the drops glistening in the firelight.
She turned and slowly retraced her steps, coming back toward him. Her fingers grazed the fur throw covering the armrest at the opposite end of the sofa from where he was settled.
She snatched the blanket and brought it to him.
“Thank you,” he said with a tight grin.
She surprised him further as she joined him, curled up between his parted legs and rested her head on his shoulder.
More emotion washed over him, but Damen didn’t say a word.
He merely draped the fur over them both, wrapped his arms around her…and hoped for a brighter day when they woke.
25
Nikki still walked a tightrope.
And so maybe cozying up to Damen wasn’t the most sensible thing for her to do, but she’d already resolved in her heart, earlier, to sleep with him in his bed. She wanted to be this close to him, wanted to be this intimate with him.
She was wholly mindful of his feelings and, as she’d told him, was not discounting them in any way. Nikki’s own emotions were tangled around him. There was a magnetic pull she couldn’t deny—physically and viscerally.
She was inexplicably and fully drawn to him. So much so, she hadn’t been able to simply walk away, climb into that big bed, alone now, and grant herself a little extra time to reconcile all of this in her brain, in her soul.
It would have been cowardly, she thought. And unfair. Because she’d already committed to being this intimate with the man. To take it all back, to imply she hadn’t really meant it, wasn’t interested in or capable of following through would be hypocritical and unjust.
Damen did not deserve that from her.
True, it would be hugely helpful if Nikki could slip into the bathroom with her phone and call Kate for a consult.
But again, that magnet-and-steel effect Nikki and Damen shared had brought her right back to him.
She inhaled his crisp, clean scent, tinged with male heat. Absorbed the dark vibes exuding from him. Swept her fingertips over his rigid muscles, down to the grooves of his abs.
He let out a low, sexy sound that reverberated deep in her core.
Her tone was only slightly apologetic, and much more lascivious, as she said, “I can’t help myself. You’re impossible not to touch.”
“Did you hear me complaining?”
“I don’t mean to make this more convoluted between us.”
“This part isn’t the least bit convoluted.”
He had a point. They did the snuggling thing quite well…along with other things.
Her lips curved upward against his neck as she murmured, “You are literally irresistible.”
His fingers twined in her long strands of hair. “I’m sure you’re well aware of how tempted I am by you.”
She felt his erection against her side. And she could feel his heart beating steadily, strongly.
She said, “We’d be perfectly fine together if we never left this room.”
“We’ll be perfectly fine together when we do leave this room,” he quietly countered. “Because no one’s going to hurt you, we’re going to deal with your computer situation, I’ll work with a team that will put an end to this particular terrorist cell and then… We’ll go out on a date.”
Her head lifted and she gazed at him.
“A real date,” he continued. “So that we can prove what we’re feeling for each other isn’t predicated on being locked in a dire circumstance together or because of forced proximity.”
“I’m not really sure that was my claim,” she told him. “Not fully.”
“Again… I believe we’ll prove it shouldn’t be your claim even partially.”
He gave her a cocky grin.
Nikki laughed softly. Returned her head to his shoulder and said, “You are wonderfully persistent, I’ll give you that much.”
“I’m also supremely confident that I’m right. I think you’ll enjoy dating me.”
A fresh wave of tears threatened her eyes, stinging the backs of them. Though she fought the rush of emotion that was brought on by how committed he was to his causes—her being one of them. He didn’t waver. He didn’t falter. He charged forth, regardless of any obstacle in his path.
He held fast to his convictions and was forthright and stalwart.
How could she not be feeling strong emotions toward him as well? Powerful ones.
Despite the way she agonized over experiencing the twinges of betrayal when it came to her everlasting love for Conner, Nikki couldn’t reject the notion that her affection ran the same lines as Damen’s.
It was fully accepting how passionately she felt for him that was difficult. Conflicting.
Yet to leave him dangling, leave him believing he was the only one falling… That seemed cruel to her. And Nikki Kane was not a cruel person.
What she was, at th
e moment, was a torn person.
So she didn’t cave to spewing anything she hadn’t thought through to the nth degree, so that she didn’t inadvertently misrepresent herself and cause Damen to doubt her intentions or her adoration and admiration for him.
Rather, she very blatantly told him, “I want you.” And let those chips fall where they may.
Damen vowed, “That’s not ever going to be a problem for us.”
She kissed the side of his throat.
His hands shifted under the throw and skimmed beneath the hem of the Henley she wore, inching slowly upward, over her ribcage to her breasts. He massaged them with the gentle roughness that was teasing, yet bordered on insistent.
Making her hotter.
Then he whisked the shirt up and over her head, tossing it aside.
She moved just so, straddling his lap. Her arms wound around his neck and she pressed her bare chest to his as his mouth sealed to hers in a deep, fiery kiss.
His fingertips skated down her spine, leaving a ripple of heat in their wake. He palmed her ass cheeks and guided her into a smooth rhythm that had her rubbing against his hard cock through his boxer-briefs.
His kiss sizzled brighter, with need and sheer lust. Exciting her even more.
He’d been right. This was never going to be a problem for them. They naturally responded to each other. Vehemently. Wicked-fast. Wholeheartedly.
Nothing could slow them down or impede them when they were naked and entwined.
Eventually, he broke the kiss, so they could both pull in a measure of air. Her chest heaved against his and every nerve ending was sufficiently seared.
His hips raised and she worked his briefs down his legs. Then she was back in position and his cock nudged her opening and Nikki lowered herself onto him, taking him in slowly, inch by rock-hard inch.
His jaw tightened. His eyes blazed in the firelight.
She reveled in the feeling of him filling her, stretching her.
His hands cupped her ass again and he pressed her down with a bit more force. She gasped. And smiled.
“Sometimes I just can’t hold out,” he whispered. “Not when it comes to you.”