I didn’t talk about that to him, though. There were only so many deep and meaningful conversations you could have in an affair that was supposed to be about pleasure and fun, so for the past couple of days that was exactly what we’d been concentrating on.
Damian had taken me sightseeing around London and then had let me help him prepare his jewellery collection for the auction that would be taking place tonight, both of which I’d enjoyed hugely. Sightseeing with him was fun because, thanks to his memory, he knew all kinds of odd facts that were either amusing, strange or both, and would bring them out either to pique my interest or to make me laugh. Mostly laugh, which was something I needed more of.
Helping him with his collection was unexpectedly fun too, because he knew jewels and knew all the histories of the pieces he’d collected. I found it unexpectedly fascinating. In my line of work, I’d never known anything about the things I’d ‘reacquired’ and I hadn’t realised I’d find it so interesting. But I did. I enjoyed hearing about where a piece came from, how it was made and what had gone into its creation.
We didn’t talk about what had happened between us the night we’d arrived in London, and I was fine with that.
But now I could feel his tension as he sat beside me in the limo, and I knew what it was about: he would be face to face with his sister for the first time in years and that was always going to be tough.
I reached out to where his hand rested on one powerful thigh and I threaded my fingers through his, letting him know without words that I was there for him.
He glanced at me, the lines of tension around his eyes and mouth obvious. Then his expression relaxed and he gave me a faint smile, his grip on my hand tightening.
My own tension eased at that smile and I gave him one back.
He was even more beautiful tonight than he normally was, dressed in an insanely expensive tux, the black fabric highlighting his incredible silver eyes and the exquisite tailoring around his broad, muscled shoulders.
‘You okay?’ he asked, because he knew I was going to have a bit of difficulty being the object of so many people’s attention. ‘Remember, you’re the daughter of a diplomat who grew up in Hong Kong and you have ties to the jewel industry. Keep it simple, yes?’
It was the story of my background that we’d agreed on to protect my anonymity. There would be interest in me because I was showing up on the arm of an infamous playboy, someone new and unknown, and therefore fascinating.
Of course any cursory search would find out my story wasn’t true, so Damian had got one of his staff members to concoct a few Internet records here and there, none serious enough to prompt investigations by authorities, but real enough to satisfy any reporters wanting to research me.
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘What about you? Are you okay?’ I didn’t mention Morgan’s name but we both knew that was what I meant.
His smile became a little grim. ‘Don’t worry about me, Sugar. I can handle myself.’
But I did worry about him. That was the problem with all of this.
And you know why, don’t you?
But I didn’t want to think about that, so I didn’t.
The limo stopped, but Damian didn’t get out straight away. Instead, he held up his hand for me to wait and he shifted, moving to pull something out of one of the limo compartments in the door beside him and holding it out to me.
It was a long black box.
I stared at it, not understanding. ‘What’s this?’
‘It’s a present.’ He wasn’t smiling at all now, his silver gaze intense. ‘Open it.’
A present. He’d got me a present.
Warmth spread through me, my heart getting tight in my chest, and my hands shook as I took the box from him and flicked it open.
Lying on black velvet, gleaming in the light coming through the limo windows, was a long rope of dusky, irregularly shaped pearls. My breath caught. They were simple and beautiful, glossy and lustrous, and looked very, very old. They were also probably worth thousands.
‘Oh...’ I breathed, unable to say anything else.
Damian reached for the pearls and drew them out of the box, then he leaned over and draped the long necklace around my neck, looping the pearls into a knot that hung between my breasts.
‘I knew it,’ he said softly. ‘I knew you’d look beautiful in it.’
The necklace felt heavy, the pearls warm and silky against my skin. I lifted a hand to touch them, feeling slightly shaky. ‘Damian, this is...amazing.’
‘They’re black pearls. I bought them from a Brit a few years back.’ He touched the knot between my breasts. ‘The pearls are irregular because they’re baroque. I think they’re beautiful. Rare and precious.’ His gaze lifted to mine, burning. ‘Like you.’
I swallowed. ‘I shouldn’t accept it. It must be worth—’
‘It doesn’t matter what it’s worth. I want you to have them.’
My mouth had gone dry. ‘Why?’
‘Because I want to give you something.’ He wasn’t smiling at all now, his expression deadly serious. ‘For what you’ve given me.’
The warmth in my chest spread out further, a bittersweet ache in my heart. ‘You don’t have to give me anything.’
‘I know. But I wanted to.’ He gently touched my cheek. ‘Keep them, okay? Now, it’s time to face the crowd. Are you ready?’
I couldn’t speak, could only nod.
The limo door swung open, light and the clicks of a thousand camera shutters flooding into the silent interior, and Damian fluidly slid out. I could hear the reporters shouting and hurling questions at him, and the rich sound of his voice replying, easy, charming and quick.
Then he turned from the crowds and held his hand out, giving me the smile he saved for me, reassuring me.
My heartbeat was thumping hard and it wasn’t just because of the prospect of the attention of the media and the people gathered outside.
It was him. It would always be him.
I took his hand, feeling his warm fingers wrap around mine, and he drew me out of the limo, the deep red silk of the gown he’d bought for me falling around my ankles. It had a plunging neckline and wrapped around my figure before flaring out in a mermaid-tail hem, the pearls Damian had given me complementing the dark red silk. I felt beautiful and mysterious in it, no longer an unnoticed shadow or an unseen ghost. No longer the unwanted girl that someone had left on the steps of a church.
Damian moved at my side, smiling at the crowds and lifting a hand to people here and there. He was used to being in the spotlight and it loved him, his smile electric, his silver eyes glittering.
A prince. My prince.
And you’re falling for him.
I didn’t smile, didn’t think about the fact that, yes, I probably was falling for him. I kept my attention on what was happening around me instead as he led me inside and into the Egyptian Sculpture Gallery where the launch event and auction was being held.
It was a beautiful space, all lit up with glass cases full of ancient Egyptian antiquities, sculptures scattered throughout the gallery while music played and staff swirled through the designer crowd with drinks.
People gave way to us as we entered, a thrill of excitement moving through the crowd as they realised that Damian was here. And then a small group of people materialised in front of us—two very tall, good-looking men in tuxes, one blond and built like a gladiator, the other dark-haired, dark-eyed and built like a heavyweight boxer. The blond man had a tall redhead on his arm, and she was dressed in a green gown. He was unsmiling, while she grinned as though she was having the time of her life.
I knew him, of course, having seen his picture in my research: Everett Calhoun. I didn’t know the woman, though.
The dark-haired man had a petite brunette holding his arm. She was stunningly gorgeous, with long black hair and deep blue eyes, and
the moment she saw us she froze. I saw her hand on the man’s arm, saw how white her knuckles were, and I knew immediately who she must be.
The man was Ulysses White and the woman was Damian’s sister, Morgan.
The one he’d sent away. The one he hadn’t seen for years.
Silence settled around us, the chatter of the crowd becoming muffled, the tension pulling tight.
‘Hi, kiddo,’ Damian said softly.
‘Damian,’ Morgan replied, her voice clear as a bell and slightly edged. ‘So glad you could make it.’
Ulysses said nothing, frowning at his friend, while Everett just nodded.
Men of few words, clearly.
Damian’s grim expression relented as he looked at the redhead. ‘Hey, Freya, nice to see you too.’
‘Same.’ Freya’s green eyes slid to me and suddenly I was the object of four people’s intense gaze.
It was uncomfortable, but I lifted my chin and stared back. I might be ordinary, but on Damian’s arm, with his pearls around my neck, I felt anything but.
If he was the prince, then tonight I would be his princess.
As if he could feel my sudden tension, he slid an arm around my waist and drew me close, the movement protective and not a little possessive.
The ache inside me deepened.
‘This is Thea Smith,’ Damian said. ‘I asked her if she would be my date for the evening and she graciously accepted.’
The others all looked at me with varying degrees of interest, Everett with outright suspicion.
‘Thea,’ Damian went on, ignoring his friends. ‘This is Ulysses White and Everett Calhoun, my partners in crime; and this is Everett’s friend, Freya Thompson; and of course my sister, Morgan.’
They all greeted me courteously enough, though Everett’s disapproval was palpable and Ulysses only gave me a cursory greeting and a curt nod before he turned and abruptly disappeared off into the crowd. Everett murmured something to Damian, then he and Freya went in Ulysses’s direction.
Only Morgan remained, standing there staring at her brother.
The tension between the two of them gathered and I could feel the muscles in Damian’s arm tighten. ‘I need to talk to you,’ he said quietly to Morgan, his voice devoid of its usual charm. ‘But now is not the time.’
‘Talk?’ Morgan’s blue eyes widened. ‘Will wonders never cease?’
He ignored that. ‘After this is done, okay? There are a few things I need to tell you.’
‘Only a few? I was thinking more.’ She lifted a careless shoulder, as if it didn’t matter. ‘But, fine, I’m sure I can spare some time at some point. Right now, though, I need to talk to you about this auction. There’ve been a couple of issues.’
This was clearly going to take some time, so Damian suggested I go and get a drink and he’d join me once he’d finished with Morgan.
I left them to it, moving through the crowd towards the bar.
It was strange being on my own again after nearly a week in Damian’s company, weird to be surrounded by other people too.
I’d thought that once I was out of the range of Damian’s spotlight no one would even look at me, but I could feel their attention as I made my way to the bar, dozens of eyes watching me curiously.
I had expected it—being on the arm of one of the most notorious playboys in the world was hardly going to render me invisible—but the reality was still...odd.
Then two men suddenly appeared out of the crowd in front of me.
Everett and Ulysses.
I stopped dead, my heart thumping, because the expressions on their faces were anything but friendly.
Everett’s blue eyes blazed with suspicion while Ulysses’s dark ones were cold as ice.
‘I’ve been investigating the security breach at Damian’s last party,’ Everett said without any preamble at all, his voice a deep Texan drawl. ‘And I’ve been looking at the security camera footage. You’re there, Miss Smith. Except you’re in a catering company uniform.’ His gaze narrowed. ‘Want to tell me why that was when you weren’t on the staff list?’
Oh, hell.
My mouth went dry.
‘I should warn you not to lie,’ Ulysses said, his voice deep and hoarse. ‘I can spot a liar a mile off.’
‘I’m sorry,’ I began.
‘Apologies won’t help you,’ Ulysses snapped before I could add anything else, his gaze like black frost. ‘This is an important event, and if you’re using Damian to interfere with it in any way we will be very, very angry.’
No need to look for the warning in that. It was loud and clear.
‘I’m not here to sabotage your launch, I promise,’ I said shakily. ‘I’m here for Damian. Yes, I crashed his party, but I’m not a journalist or anything. I was there to—’
‘She was a last-minute replacement for one of the catering company staff.’ Damian’s smooth voice cut me off, his arm sliding around my waist and pulling me up against his hard, hot body. ‘And I asked her to stay on after the party.’
There was silence as Everett’s and Ulysses’s attention switched from me to Damian, while Damian stared back, his hold on me tight and possessive.
‘You’re fucking her,’ Everett said flatly and it wasn’t a question.
‘Say that again and I’ll rip your head off,’ Damian growled.
‘You are. Jesus.’ Ulysses frowned as he glanced at me. ‘Why?’
Something turned over in my gut, because it was clear that to him I was just a plain waitress who’d suddenly turned up on the arm of his friend, decked in red silk and pearls, pretending to be someone she wasn’t.
Can you blame him? You’re no one’s princess. Even Mr Chen didn’t want you in the end.
No. That wasn’t true. Damian had asked me to be here. He’d bought me pearls and a dress, and he thought I was beautiful. He thought I was mysterious. He thought I was very far from ordinary and, right now, that was exactly what I felt.
I could feel Damian’s sudden surge of protective anger and, even though I appreciated it, I didn’t need it.
‘Do you have a problem with me, Mr White?’ I asked before Damian could get a word in. ‘Because, if you do, I suggest you say it to my face.’
You could have cut the air with a knife.
Ulysses’s eyes widened. ‘Excuse me?’
‘You heard me.’ I gave him a disdainful look then glanced at Everett. ‘What about you, Mr Calhoun? Are you often this rude to women you’ve never met before or is it just me?’
Ulysses opened his mouth to say something, but I didn’t miss Everett elbowing him hard in the side, making him shut his mouth with a snap.
Beside me, Damian was silent, letting me have my moment.
‘If you must know,’ I went on, taking advantage of the silence, ‘I’m not a waitress. I’m a reacquisition agent, and if you don’t know what that is then I suggest you educate yourselves before making any ridiculous assumptions.’ I lifted my chin, looking both Ulysses and Everett in the eye. ‘I’m not here to sabotage anything. I’m here because this event is important to Damian and I wanted to be here for him. So take your rude insinuations elsewhere, please.’
Both Ulysses and Everett were silent, staring at me as if I’d suddenly grown another head.
I stared back, daring them to say another word.
‘Don’t waste your time on these bastards, Sugar,’ Damian said, his voice warm with approval. ‘Neither of them has any social skills to speak of and no one likes them anyway.’
Then his hold on me tightened and, without another word to his gaping friends, he pulled me away through the crowd to the side of the gallery, near a big piece of sculpture.
His expression was full of admiration as he turned me to face him. ‘Congratulations, Sugar. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone speak to either of those two pricks like
that before.’
I flushed. ‘I was rude.’
‘And they were ruder. I would have punched their faces in, but you saved me the trouble.’ The respect in his eyes made my chest ache. ‘Look, I know you can handle yourself, but I honestly wouldn’t mind going and punching their faces in if you like anyway. Just say the word.’
Maybe it was the adrenaline, maybe it was triumph. Or maybe it was simply the way he was looking at me, full of warmth, approval and respect, but a rush of feeling suddenly swept over me, so hot, raw and intense that I didn’t know what to do with myself.
It felt too big to keep inside me and I was up on my toes before I could stop the urge, brushing my mouth with his. ‘Thank you,’ I murmured against his lips. ‘Thank you for the dress and the pearls. Thank you for making me feel like a princess instead of a nobody.’
Damian’s silver eyes glinted and he smiled. Not the fake smile, the real one he saved just for me. And the hot feeling inside me intensified.
I knew what it was. I’d always known. It had been lying there inside me, like a seed waiting for the sun to make it bloom. And I don’t know why I told him, when I knew it wasn’t what he wanted to hear. But I said it all the same, because I couldn’t help myself.
‘I love you,’ I whispered.
And everything smashed to pieces like a glass bauble falling off a Christmas tree onto the floor.
Shock rippled over Damian’s face, his smile vanishing, the warmth draining from his eyes. ‘No.’ His voice had gone harsh. ‘No, Thea.’
Of course he’d say no. He’d been very clear from the outset that all of this was sex and fun. Nothing deep. Nothing meaningful. And I’d just turned that inside out.
No, I shouldn’t have said it. Yet, now it was out, I didn’t want to take it back. So I stayed where I was, my hands on his chest, looking up into his tarnished-silver eyes, letting him see what was in my heart. ‘Yes, Damian,’ I said simply. ‘I love you.’
He lifted his hands, gripping my shoulders, his fingers digging into me. ‘You can’t,’ he said flatly, as if just by saying it it would be true. ‘You barely fucking know me.’
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