“He’s here… I think.”
“Punctual! I like him. Go, enjoy! And call me afterwards.”
Samantha took a deep breath, took a last look in the mirror and headed for the door. Opening it, her eyes nearly popped out. Damien stood filling the tiny space looking even more ruggedly handsome than he usually did. He was wearing a clean white shirt that clung to his shoulders and chest, a suit jacket and black denim pants. His dark hair was carefully combed in place making her fingers itch to mess them to their usual state. In his hands he held a bouquet of flowers and a small box.
“Hello! You look great,” Samantha greeted him, her lips quirking up into a smile, heat pooling in her belly just looking at him.
He did not acknowledge the words, simply staring at her and then a slow smile spread across his face. He leaned forward and kissed her cheek softly. Handing her the bouquet and the box, he crowded her body with his and bent his head to lightly caress her lips.
“You look gorgeous, Samantha.” The way he said her full name raised the fine hairs on her skin in a delightful manner.
“Thank you,” she said softly. Looking down at the box, she asked, “What’s this?”
A small dimple formed at the corner of his lips. “Chocolate. The best kind. You’ll love them.”
“Wow, thanks. I’m sure I will.” The man was making all the right moves. And he just scored some more points by giving her a box of chocolates. She was a sucker for them. But then, who wasn’t?
“You ready?”
She nodded.
He gestured towards the door. He had not entirely stepped into her apartment, standing just inside the door on the mat. “Then shall we?”
“Just a moment.” She grabbed her bag and phone from the counter and sprinted back to the door. Damien had not moved an inch but seemed to be examining the visible part of her apartment from his point of view. He stepped outside as she set the code on the alarm and then inserted the key into the lock. The double click sounded, still she checked the handle just for assurance. The city was prone to thefts, even in the good neighborhoods. One could not be more careful. “All good. Let’s go.”
Once they were outside, Samantha looked around confused. She could not spot a car. Had he come in a cab? Puzzled, she turned only to find Damien holding out a helmet towards her.
“A motorcycle?” she said incredulously.
He grinned while quirking an eyebrow and then donned his own helmet. “Yes. Is that a problem?”
Samantha snorted. “No. But boy, I sure am glad I decided not to go with a skirt.”
He chuckled lightly. Placing his hands on the handle bar, he swung his leg over the seat, making the fabric of his jeans strain against his muscles. Somehow even the simple act of slinging a leg over a motorcycle was made sexier by the fact that Damien was the one doing it. Samantha stood with her eyes glued to his flexing thighs and looked sheepish when he did the cough-laugh.
“Coming?”
“Oh, yes.”
“Need a leg up?”
“Nope. This isn’t my first time, you know.” Oops. Maybe a sexual hint in there somewhere.
Damien snorted. “That’s always good to hear.”
She smacked him lightly on his arm and then gripping his shoulders for support, she swung herself up behind him. Damn, but a motorcycle was intimate. She seemed to understand why he had chosen that over a car. Her chest pressed up against his back and even through the layers of clothes, she could feel the delicious heat seeping off him into her.
“Got your helmet on?”
“Yes.”
Then the motorcycle roared to life, making her relish the vibrations under her rear. Sliding her hands down, she splayed her fingers on his hips. He revved up the motorcycle and yelled over the noise.
“Peaches. Put your arms around me.” The way he said it left no room for argument. Shrugging, she wrapped her arms around his torso, inhaling the clean masculine scent mixed with a hint of leather. She laughed out loud as they pealed out of the area and got on the open road. The rush of adrenaline associated with being exposed to the elements and the power of the machine between the legs was addicting.
Suddenly, she wished she could actually feel the wind whipping through her hair. Unhooking one arm from its hold on Damien and curling the fingers of her other hand tightly around his shirt, she slid the visor up and threw her head back a little as she felt the air hit her exposed face. Glee filled her and she felt more alive in that moment than ever. It seemed so perfect. Riding into the sunset on horseback was utter bull compared to riding on a bike, feeling the wind making furious love to every inch of your body.
They banked left and then pulled up at the pier. As Damien parked, he glanced towards his right and nodded at someone. Then he turned back and pushed up his visor.
“We’re here.”
Carefully, disengaging herself from him, Samantha slid off the bike and felt her legs wobble a bit from the receding adrenaline. Unclipping the helmet, she took it off and looked around. The pier was empty except for a few men and a couple of boats docked. Most of the shops and restaurants were on the other side, making her wonder why exactly they had stopped here.
Taking in her shining eyes, Damien gave her a lazy smile. “You liked the ride.”
“I loved it. I kind of miss it. The wind in your hair, the power, the vibrations, the openness of it all,” Samantha said wistfully.
“You had one?”
“I didn’t. Someone I knew did and I was allowed to ride it now and then. That was a long time ago.”
He was curious to know further but something in her tone suggested this would not be the right time to prod. Instead, he just nodded. “You should get one yourself. Much easier to get around the city. And totally badass. Sexy FBI agent chasing criminals on a bike,” he said thoughtfully, as though picturing it.
She laughed. “We usually don’t have to chase them in that sense.”
“Now, why did you have to go and ruin my fantasy?” he mock groaned.
Stifling another laugh, she said with a straight face, “I’m sorry. We do...we do chase them around like that.”
Damien grinned, the light from the posts created a subtle shadow across his face, giving him a wholly mysterious look. He extended his hand and she immediately took it. His hand was an inferno compared to her slightly cooler one, providing a soothing effect. He led her right onto the pier, much to her bemusement.
“This isn’t the part where you tie me up and toss me into the water, is it?” she asked with genuine concern. She had not brought her gun with her but if he made any wrong moves, she had some moves of her own to show him.
“Of course not.” He sounded offended at the very idea. Samantha should have felt relieved but being so close to the edge of water in the dark made the age old fear creep into her system.
Before she could find out his motives, he gave a piercing whistle and a horn sounded in the distance. Suddenly, at a distance in the water, lights blinked up one by one. She watched in amazement as an outline of a yacht began to form. A yacht that was headed their way. No way! They were not going to go on that. She squinted to make sure it really was headed their way and saw a uniformed man waving at them from the deck.
“We’re going on that?” she asked Damien, disbelievingly.
He grinned at her in way of an answer. He found her reactions since the time he picked her up particularly amusing. But better than that was surprising her. Nothing about this date was predictable. Just the way he wanted it to be.
She remained silent as he led her on board. The man in uniform disembarked and saluted them before giving a piercing whistle. Slowly, they began to pull away into the waters. Samantha watched as they grew further and further away from land and then looked around herself. The yacht was a beautiful piece of vessel. Strings of light hung over it, giving it a beautiful glow in the middle of all the darkness. As she walked around, she noticed a table set in the middl
e of the deck with two chairs on either side.
“How did you pull this off?” she asked in awe. Was he incredibly rich? Yachts were expensive and even renting one was not light on the pockets. She had not run a background check on him like she sometimes did people she met. She was not sure why, but somehow it felt wrong trying to get to know him through the data compiled by others. She wanted to get to know him the traditional way. With him revealing himself to her willingly.
He looked embarrassed and reached behind his neck, in a nervous tell-tale. “Let’s just say, I owe a friend a huge favor now.”
“Wow. So friends in high places, huh?”
“Something like that. Still think I want to throw you overboard?”
“I’m reserving judgment on that until later,” she said with a twinkle in her eyes.
Stepping forward, he raised his hand to gently run his fingers along the angle of her jaw, resting his thumb on her lip. He brushed it over the plump flesh twice or so and then gazed directly into her blue depths.
“Samantha.” Her breathing hitched. “Would you like to have dinner with me?”
Chapter 6
There was utter silence around them except for the gentle lapping of waves on the sides. The slight breeze was soothing and the sky was clear. It was a full moon night and the big celestial body spread its light, creating beautiful shadows against the dark background.
Samantha founded herself being treated to the ultimate date. Damien was a perfect gentleman. He pulled out the chair for her, brushing his hands over her shoulders almost like a caress as she seated herself and then pushed her in. He poured her a generous glass while she admired his silhouette against the glow of the candles and the twinkly lights, and then seated himself across her.
“Name a dish, please.”
She stared at him uncertainly.
“What would you like to eat?” he clarified.
“This thing doesn’t have a restaurant aboard it, does it?”
He chortled. “Not exactly.” At her bemused look, he elucidated. “We have a chef. Name your dish and it will appear before you.”
A chef on a yacht ready to cook her heart’s desires. That was something new for her. He was going to ruin her for any future dates. Not that she planned to have any. This was the only once.
“Alright. This atmosphere is making me crave…lobsters.”
He beamed at her. “Excellent!”
Samantha was not sure what he did but suddenly a man in a chef’s hat appeared by their table side. Damien spoke to him in a low voice in a language that was certainly not English. She tried to place it and concluded it mostly likely was German. They had a German chef onboard. Who exactly were Damien’s friends?
“You speak German,” she observed, lifting her glass of wine and taking a tiny sip. Her taste buds exploded with the aged flavors. This was an expensive wine, she noted in wonder. And extremely good.
“I’m not fluent. It’s just something I picked up,” he said modestly. “Do you like the wine?”
“Yes. In fact it’s my favorite. There was wine tasting once and I had it there and it was instant love. The only reason it’s not in my apartment is because it’s above my pay grade.”
“Well, you can keep the bottle,” he offered.
“Please don’t,” she groaned. “It’s cruel to joke about such a fine tasting wine.”
“I’m not,” Damien said seriously. “Keep it.”
Samantha lifted her eyes to his face and saw that there indeed was no hint of a joke on it, making her eyes grow wide. “I couldn’t. It would be too much.”
“My friend wouldn’t mind. He has many more. In fact, he wouldn’t mind for once his wine being given to a beautiful woman who truly understands and appreciates its authenticity and not the price label on it.”
Unsure what to say to that, she quickly changed the topic, causing his lips to twist at the corners in a tiny smile.
“How many people are on with us?” she asked curiously.
“It’s just us, the captain and the chef.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
“Wow.”
“It’s a private little haven,” he agreed to the unspoken statement.
They fell into a comfortable conversation until the smell of perfectly cooked lobster wafted towards them, making Samantha’s stomach grumble. She threw Damien an apologetic look.
“I skipped lunch today. My stomach is just realizing that now.”
“Why?”
“I got a little sidetracked while working. Happens occasionally,” she shrugged.
“You work Saturdays?”
“Some days. When the workload is a lot. What is it that you do?”
“Oh, I work for a boring little business firm. Junior that too. Not as exciting as your work,” he said almost dismissively.
Before she could question him further, the chef made an appearance with their plates. Gingerly, setting the two covered dishes in front of them, he took off the lids, bowed and said in a thick accent, “Enjoy!” before disappearing through some doorway on the other side.
Damien gazed at her and liked the expression of rapture on her face. Smiling broadly at her, he said, “Dig in.”
They ate and drank in a pleasant atmosphere. Soft music played through the speakers on the deck and the yacht at anchored itself in the middle of the dark vastness with the big silver moon gleaming over them, hiding the endless twinkly points in the sky. The pace continued with small bits of conversation.
Finally, Samantha put down her fork and sighed heavily making Damien laugh. “I’m too full.”
“Confession – I can never get full,” he leaned forward and whispered it like it was some dirty secret he was afraid of the world finding out. “I’m a bottomless pit.”
“Ohh…it hurts even to laugh,” Samantha said, her blue eyes twinkling with amusement as she hastily swallowed her laughter.
His query, “Can you get up?” elicited a groan from her so they remained seated, staring into the waters as the dim lights illuminated the ripples and movements of the calm beast.
“Confession,” Samantha finally murmured. “I’m terrified of water. Of open seas.”
Damien inhaled sharply and stared directly at her, an aghast expression sketched across his features. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
She shifted until she was looking into his eyes. “I didn’t feel that way tonight. At least not because of the bottomless, endless water.”
Damien broke the contemplative silence that followed by raising his glass. “A toast. To new relations”
Schooling her features against the uneasiness she felt rising inside her at his wordings, Samantha added to the toast, “To good times.”
“To good times,” he echoed, clinking their glasses together and taking a sip.
“I can move again,” Samantha said quietly.
Immediately, Damien was out of his chair and helping her out of hers. Their skin came in contact in the process and electricity sizzled between them. Neither of them dared to breathe as he lightly traced the bare skin of her arm. He moved upwards, his fingers light across her collarbone and then encircling her neck in a possessive yet gentle grip. Then he released a hot gust of breath across her cheeks and raised her head so that she was staring directly into his heavily lidded grey eyes.
The need in her blue eyes clashed with the same intensity in the grey ones and their lips smashed together. The two bodies moaned into each other in the darkness of the night, their cry echoed by the sea. Fierce heat rose in Samantha’s belly, her previously sated feeling disappearing only to be replaced by a need to be filled by something much more desirable.
Her slim fingers buried themselves in the thick soft locks of dark hair, sensually massaging one second and tugging at them the next and then returning to the gentle exploration as the rhythm of the kiss changed. From the furious, punishing kiss, it transformed into a slow, b
uildup kiss as they each explored and tasted and tried to soothe.
When the burn in their lungs was too much to ignore, they released each other but did not let go. Damien moved his lips to the sensitive crook of her neck and gently lavished her with small kisses.
“I promised myself that I would control myself around you tonight,” he groaned into her skin.
“And I promised myself that this was a one-time thing,” she said in a breathy voice, her fingernails digging into him as he ignited the heat inside.
“Guess we both are going to have to break our promises.” Before she could protest, he slid his hands under her rear and lifted her up. Instinctively, she wrapped her legs around him, clinging to him like he was the only one who was going to save her. Save her from the sweet ache of want.
“If I was an artist, you’d be my muse.” He licked the sensitive shell of her ear and sucked her earlobe into his wet cavern, applying just the right amount of pressure to make every nerve ending come alive in her body.
“I would enjoy being your muse,” Samantha consented.
“Oh you most certainly would.”
She cried out softly as his mouth began to work magic over her again, making the passion seated deep inside her to come alive. She felt invincible with him on the deck there, doing sinful things to her. The sea, instead of filling her with dread, for once made her experience something else entirely too intense. The salt in the crisp air, the starry heavens above and the dark beckoning waters over which they stood bathing in their own glow, made everything much more electrifying. They lost themselves into each other, devouring and feeding their inner most devils as the stars above winked at naked heat.
Meanwhile at the agency, Finn was on his tenth espresso. The lights had been dimmed as most of the office had cleared out leaving him the lone man in the room. He stared at the box of files in a dazed manner and then flipped open a new file. Settling back on the couch, he began reading, his eyes skimming over the surveillance photo of a man who looked strongly like Damien.
Promised Box Set Page 82