Damon [The Texas Senator's Sons 1] (Siren Publishing Classic)

by Hennessee Andrews

  “I guess you’re wondering what I want from you?” His eyes danced in a dreamy shade of blue as he watched her.

  Sex? Regan’s mind blasted.

  “Well, that would be nice to know. If you’re here for anything except flowers, I’m sure I can’t help you.” Regan regained her wits, her bewilderment getting the better of her.

  “I’m not here for flowers, and yes, you will help me.” His easy smile fell to a solemn look, one of determination.

  Regan couldn’t believe what she was hearing. As if! He may be the most stunning looking man to ever walk through my door, but I’ll be damned if he thinks he can waltz in here and tell me what to do!

  “Huh, really?” She copped an attitude. “You don’t know me too well, then.” She turned her back on him and began the arrangement for her previous customer. She needed to get it completed and sent via courier by five to the recipient’s office and show Tall, Dark, and Handsome that she didn’t respond well to direct orders.

  “As a matter of fact I do.” He gave a lighthearted chuckle. “You, my dear, are a hopeless romantic…”

  Regan turned as he plucked a flower from a vase and held it under his nose. “I have read many articles about your business, and I must say…I’m impressed.”

  Regan held a handful of brilliant hot pink tulips in her hand. “Listen, mister, I don’t understand your angle here…if you want me to send flowers to the little lady at home or at the office I can oblige, but other than that, all the flattery you can dish out won’t help whatever cause you have.” With a quick snip, her shears cut the stems without fault and they fell to the floor.

  Damon simply stared at her with his heart-stopping smile.

  An uneasy quiver rolled over Regan. Apparently the guy was a stalker of some sort, which really sucked because he was completely tweaking her insides to a new level. Her pussy throbbed in hunger. The gods did have a sense of humor, she thought, and returned to her bouquet. It was really a shame.

  “Oh, but, sweetheart, you can and will,” he said, his voice cut through the silence again as she turned her back to him

  Regan counted to three calmly before she turned. This could get ugly quick. He needed to leave and now. “Sir, I think you should go,” she stated calmly with her shears held tightly in her hands.

  Damon chuckled. “You don’t really think I’m some sort of weirdo, do you?”

  Regan reached for her phone on the counter, and Damon covered her hand and phone quickly with his. His smile diminished in an instant, and his blue eyes glimmered. “I’m not a bad guy, really. But you need to help me with a situation that you caused…it’s that simple.”

  Damon’s eyes never wavered as he stared at her. His icy blues studied her, and she gasped. One part of her said run, while the other part told her that she was safe. It must have been the ungratified sexual part of her that craved him, sending her brain mixed signals. But something in his eyes revealed a gentle, warm man. What was a girl to do?

  Regan’s eyes flashed in fear and sympathy. “Listen, if you want my help with something, then tell me what it is. This cryptic nonsense is getting you nowhere.”

  “Really? Seems to me it’s getting me exactly where I want to be.” He gave a quick and appreciative glance over her body. His eyes told of pent-up desire and passion.

  Regan stiffened. The guy was intuitive. She’d give him that. “I don’t believe I know what you’re talking about,” she lied.

  “You want me…” His lips parted slightly then turned up cocksure to the side.

  Regan’s body reacted with tiny shocks that hit her tingling clit. Warmth spread between her legs and threatened to unravel her on the spot. She felt her nipples harden underneath her bra, but she wouldn’t let him know that. “I think you’re mistaken!” She acted as though she was shocked and appalled at the same time.

  “No, I’m not…your body is revved and primed…it’s craving me, and I can feel it here,” he said, moving his thumb over her wrist where her pulse throbbed. “I see it when I look into your eyes…they are wild, feral…it’s been a while for you, hasn’t it?” His eyes roamed while his thumb lightly brushed over the pressure point on her wrist. His large hand continued to lightly caress her skin. It felt wonderful to be touched, and especially by a man like him. He made her nervous and feel out of control. She didn’t know whether to be scared of him or not.

  Regan couldn’t speak. He was correct. She wanted him, period. How did one respond to that sort of logic anyway? How could she lie when her body rhythm was erratic, her pulse thundering, and her breathing heavy? She lied anyway. “No, you’re wrong. You’re scaring me.”

  Damon released her hand slowly then lightly wetted his lips. A wide grin curved over his mouth in amusement. “Here’s the deal, sweetheart. Your matchmaking mumbo jumbo has caused somewhat of a situation for me…” He paused and began to stroll through her shop like he was interested in what she had to offer. “The thing is…I came here today anticipating on telling you off.” He laughed as he walked back to the counter. “I was sure I would hate you, and that would make it so much easier for me to sue your ass off when this situation with my brother goes bad.”

  Fury built slow as Regan processed his words. Did he just threaten to sue her? It didn’t matter anymore that her body craved him, and it didn’t matter that he was exceptionally gorgeous either. And it didn’t matter that she’d like to have his tongue pleasuring her clit, her breasts… “Listen, asshole, you have five seconds to remove your ass from my shop before I call the police!” She shuddered at her words, her body defiantly opposing her as she said them.

  Currently she was enraged, and she wasn’t sure whether it was because he nailed her spot-on with his remarks or that her body wanted nothing more than to be invaded by him or because he mentioned suing her. None of it mattered. She’d be damned if Damon, Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome, would come into her business and threaten her.

  “Easy, baby,” Damon coaxed as he smiled from ear to ear. “I’m not going to sue you…I have to admit, it was a thought.” He scrubbed his jaw, deep in thought with a quirky smile playing on his lips.

  “Why in the world would you want to sue me anyway?” Regan’s words were sharp, sharper than her shears that she picked up again.

  “Whoa, baby, put those down!” Damon held his hands up and backed away from the counter. “I didn’t say I was going to sue you! I said it was a thought…if that stripper has her way with my brother and has skeletons in her closet, we’re screwed in more ways than one, and we have no one to thank for that but you.”

  “Stripper? What in the world are you talking about?” Regan kept hold of her shears, pointing them in his direction.

  “Huh, funny, Ms. Matchmaker!” Damon barked out a sarcastic laugh. “I sat here and listened to how you help men…and I’m not saying it’s a bad thing 99.9 percent of the time, but you, sweetheart, nailed that point-one percent and everything is on the line now.”

  Regan dropped her shears in disbelief. No way did she create a recipe for disaster. No. No way. Good things came from good deeds, right? She remembered a guy six months ago, and he’d wanted a date with a stripper from one of the exclusive gentleman’s clubs in Dallas. Couldn’t be, could it? “I don’t know what you are talking about,” she commented flatly and began to clear her mess.

  “Oh, you know what I’m talking about, and lying just pisses me off, sweetheart!” he said while pointing his finger at her and pursing his lips tightly together.

  “Look, whatever y’all have going on is not my problem. It’s that simple.” She flitted across the room for her broom and tried keeping herself occupied until she could figure out what to do. She could call the police, but what would she tell them? She supposed they could escort him from the premises, but that would be the extent of it. Maybe he’d just go away. She had a business to run after all.

  Damon grabbed the broom from her hands. “I know that you know what I’m talking about, and if I wasn’t worried, I wouldn’
t be here.”

  Regan got momentarily lost in his eyes and could sense the urgency in his voice, but felt compelled to ask anyway. “If you are so worried about her, why don’t you just call the police, or I don’t know, a private investigator!”

  “My private detective turned up nothing. For all I know, she’s using an alias. As far as I can tell, she hasn’t done anything wrong yet, so the police can’t help me. I really can’t trust anyone.” He pleaded sincerely with his eyes.

  Regan laughed. It was either nervousness or he just all of a sudden tickled her funny bone. “Okay, you got me! Am I on a greatest prank show or something?” She glanced around her shop for any indication of a camera.

  “You think this is funny, huh. I didn’t think it was amusing…and no, you’re not on a prank show, and I really can’t trust anyone to help.”

  Regan’s laugh died quickly, and her smile deflated instantly. “Let me get this straight…you can’t call the police, and your PI turned up nothing, but you need help from a florist?” she scoffed.

  “Yeah, I guess that’s pretty amusing after all.” Damon laughed. “Seriously, I do need your help.”

  Regan’s uneasiness subsided with the genuine laugh that came from deep inside Damon, although his need for her to help was…well crazy. “What in the world could I possibly help you with, really?” Her eyes searched his for an answer.

  “Simple, really. You seem to know the nature of women, and since you helped get us into this mess then you can help get us out.” Damon walked over to the wall and parked her broom.

  “What is the problem, anyway? I mean, if she hasn’t done anything wrong.”

  Damon interrupted her. “Here’s the deal…after he came into your shop six months ago and you did your mumbo jumbo, he got a date with her…anyway, long story short they are engaged now, and he’s head over heels!”

  Regan giggled. This was really funny. Damon was worried because his brother was in love with a stripper. “Huh, in six short months, huh? Geez, jealous?” she teased.

  “No!” Damon barked out quickly.

  “Okay, don’t get all defensive.” Regan batted her lashes and finally felt in control of the situation. So, he needs my help. Nah, he just thinks he does.

  Damon paced in the small shop as if deep in thought. He looked like he’d lost his puppy.

  “I don’t see the problem…if he’s happy…what’s the big deal? I mean, do your parents not know she’s a stripper or something?” Regan asked as she went about her work. Damon wasn’t a threat—he was just a gorgeous distraction.

  Damon growled in his chest, getting Regan’s attention. “It’s not so trivial, and no, my parents don’t know she’s a stripper. Heaven forbid they find out. My mother would stroke out.” He shook his head as he continued to pace.

  “So, if you need my help why don’t you tell me how I could possibly help? I can’t agree to help you if I don’t know.”

  When Damon told her he needed her help for the weekend and the next week, she nearly fell off her stool. Didn’t he realize she had a business to run? Honestly, in five years she hadn’t even taken a vacation. And he thought she could just up and go on some sleuthing mission with a man she hadn’t even known fifteen minutes! And that wasn’t even the worst of it!

  Of course, she said no. Then she said no again emphatically! It was an idiotic plan anyway. How would they even get the stripper-fiancée of his brother’s to agree to break off the relationship anyhow? And what could she find out about this woman in a week? The idea that really took the cake was when Damon suggested that she go apply for a job at the gentleman’s club where the stripper-fiancée worked! No way in hell was that going to happen. What was with guys and their foolish ideas anyway?

  Furthermore, how did he really know if said woman was a bad girl with intentions of doing his brother wrong? He didn’t. He only suspected that the quick proposal meant she had duped his brother somehow. Other than that he knew nothing…nothing!

  She almost agreed to help when he flashed his lost puppy dog eyes at her. It was cute and had lots of potential to suck her in. Well, she didn’t get where she was by being naïve and dense. And she definitely couldn’t swoop in like a superhero and aid everyone that came her way. She drew the line at helping men clean up their acts when it came to flowers and romance. Of course, that was only if they specifically asked for advice. Unsolicited advice always fell on deaf ears.

  Regan sighed and continued to sweep the floor. The man was intoxicating and wow, gorgeous though. Huh. He almost had her. She smiled and mentally patted herself on the back. She had resisted even when her body screamed for his touch. If it was any other time or circumstance, she would love to explore the curves of his abs, kiss those succulent lips, and lose herself in the moment.

  Sadly, her feminine desires would just have to wait. Tomorrow was Saturday, and she had a huge Gothic wedding to decorate for. She couldn’t forget it when her cooler looked like a funeral waiting to happen, not to mention the rest of the décor that needed to be completed tonight. To each their own, she thought. If they wanted black, crimson, and deep purple flowers and were spending a fortune in the process, who was she to deny that?

  * * * *

  When Damon walked out, he turned and gave her a smile. “Think about it,” he said and allowed the door close behind him.

  Outside he looked up at the blue sky. He didn’t mean to come off as such a cocky bastard, but the situation with Drew and his father’s upcoming election had his nerves shot all to hell. Deep down, he was a compassionate man, or had been. Now, he wished he hadn’t seemed like such an ass. Regan was not at all the woman he had expected to encounter. She was in fact a woman he’d like to get to know a lot better. The damage was done now, he thought and walked to his truck. Nice job, dumbass.

  * * * *

  Regan rolled her eyes and went back to the counter to pick up where she had left off before he had shown up. Her body still hummed with energy from being near him. She shook her head and tried to gather her thoughts. Her mind wasn’t on work. It was on the man she allowed to walk out her door. “Arrrgh,” she said, growling. Maybe cleaning would clear her mind, she thought.

  One hour left until close and Regan sighed as she put up her broom and dustpan. It was time to tackle the table bouquets for tomorrow’s wedding. Bree, her friend and extra staff member for weddings, came in the door with squeal. “This is going to be the coolest wedding in the world!” She threw her purse behind the counter with her hazel eyes twinkling in excitement.

  Regan frowned. Her idea of wedding décor included bright and cheery colors like chartreuse and hot pink. She had to consider the source, though. Bree had dyed her hair jet black and had it cut into a short bob indicative of flapper girls from the 1920s. It looked great on her, she had to admit, with her cute, round face and pouty lips glossed over in red. “I’m glad you think so.” She smiled and walked ahead to the cooler to start working.

  “I do!” Bree giggled as she pulled long ebony calla lilies from the water. “These are magnificent! No one uses stuff like this, and it’s a shame because they are so elegant.”

  Regan nodded. They were a very unique flower, but black? She surveyed the cooler. “It looks like we are decorating for Count Dracula!”

  Bree laughed as she pulled a long section of black velvet ribbon from the roll. “The Count has very good taste!”

  “As long as the bride is happy then I’m happy. I just don’t have to like it,” Regan added while snipping the stems off dark crimson roses in full open bloom.

  “Well, don’t.” Bree tied the ribbon in a simple bow around the stems of the black calla lilies. “Really though, you like a challenge and wowing people with new creations. I would have thought you’d be a little more excited about this.”

  Regan thought for a moment, pushing the water vials of roses into Styrofoam. She really needed to look on the brighter side. She would do that right after she pushed Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome out of her head. She cou
ldn’t help it. He was, wow, amazingly gorgeous, and had oodles of sex appeal. She began to feel a little awful about sending him packing out her front door with a stern “No!” on her lips. His plan was ridiculous, beyond ridiculous, ludicrous, that was it.

  “Earth to Regan!” Bree said, her voice echoing off the walls of the small space.

  Regan snapped to attention and looked at Bree. “What?”

  “Challenges, you like challenges.” Bree tried to continue what she had started.

  Regan was confused. “What are you talking about?”

  “Never mind, just never mind.” Bree shook her head and continued to work. “What’s up with you today? First you can’t say anything nice about the flowers, and now you’re zoned out. Something is up. You can always find something redeeming to say about any flower, even the ugly ones!”

  Regan smiled. “There’s no such thing as an ugly flower.”

  “That’s a start,” Bree said while she pulled more black lilies out of the bucket.

  Regan grinned. No, nothing was wrong, her mind was just occupied by a hot cowboy that thought he needed her help. Oh well, he was long gone now.

  “Well, are you going to tell me?” Bree tapped her foot on the tile.

  Regan sighed. Bree wasn’t going to let this go, so she gave in and told Bree about Damon and his goofy plan. She even confessed how hot he made her just by being close.

  “You are brain-dead, I swear.” Bree shook her head. “Why would you turn him down? You haven’t even been on a date since…since? How long has it been, anyway? I lost count.”

  Regan frowned and exhaled loudly. “Eight months, twelve days.”

  “You’re nuts, completely nuts! The man begs for your help, and you’re apparently totally turned on by him, and you say no? You haven’t been accidentally drinking the Floralife, mistaking it for Crystal Light, have you?”

  Regan smacked Bree with a handful of greenery. “No!”