by Julie Olsen
Continuing my tack, I spent extra time reassuring Emily that she did great under duress and expressing how proud I was of her for sticking it out. As I complimented her with a smile plastered to my face, her eyes traveled past my shoulder and I knew who she was staring at. My eyes automatically narrowed and I sidestepped to the left, blocking her line of view and feeling a tiny thrill of triumph. He might not be mine, but you, Missy, would not be eating him up with your greedy eyes on my watch!
After a few minutes everyone had dispersed, so I rounded up the dregs of my courage and turned to face him, covering the distance between us with slow steps. He had lowered his crossed arms and regarded me with quiet impatience. He chewed the inside of his lip as we looked at one another.
He was dressed in a dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up and open at the throat to show the contrast between the stark white shirt and his golden skin. Dark gray slacks molded to his leanly muscled legs. He was so deeply masculine. Oh, why did he have to be so yummy? And here I was in sweaty yoga pants and a racerback tank, my hair in a pony on top of my head and wearing not a trace of makeup.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, my voice not quite a whisper.
My eyes were attracted to the rise and fall of his chest. He was breathing heavily for someone who had been standing still for at least the last ten minutes, maybe longer since I was not sure how long he’d been watching me. It was hypnotic, the way his chest strained at his shirt with each breath. I knew firsthand how that chest looked and felt under my palms. With an effort I dragged my eyes away. I crossed my arms, wishing it were that easy to protect my fragile heart.
He took his time answering, pausing so long that I finally looked up and met his electric stare.
“I missed you,” he breathed, his eyes never straying from mine.
My brows slowly drew together. “But you were three hundred miles away?”
“I was. But I missed you, so I came back.”
A little thrill coursed through me at this admission.
“But you had meetings.”
“Meetings can be postponed.” His eyes darkened as they drilled into mine. “Why didn’t you return my calls, Olivia?”
“Damien.” Fresh pain sliced my heart. My finger tapped a nervous beat against my arm. “This isn’t going to work.” A shudder ran through me as I said the words, and I bit my lip to stop it from trembling.
A muscle worked in his jaw. “I think I deserve to know why.”
“That’s ironic, considering I thought I deserved to know you weren’t alone in Chicago. How’s Bella, by the way?”
His brows knitted together and he had the grace to look guilty. “I told you, she’s a friend. A family friend, in fact.”
“Then why keep it a secret? I would have preferred to find out from you rather than via social media.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “I’m not on social media,” he said warily.
“What do you mean, you’re not on social media? Weaver is your company?”
He narrowed his eyes. “People who value their privacy, as I do, stay clear of social media in general.”
I threw up my hands. “Doesn’t matter, your friend is, and she sent me a friend request just after posting a picture of the three of you frolicking your asses off.” I held up a hand to let him know I wasn’t finished. “I called you, but after hours of waiting for you to return my call or to just send me a text—a handful of characters would have done it, a simple Will call soon just so I knew you got my message—I finally gave up and turned my phone off. Because I didn’t want to wait around for you anymore.” My throat constricted, but I swallowed the tears down. “I can’t do that, Damien. I won’t.”
His lips parted as his eyes bored into me. He took a step toward me.
“First of all, I didn’t mention it because I didn’t think Bella and Alex taking a day trip with me, like they have done countless times before, would be of consequence. It was a last-minute thing. I was going, and they hitched a ride on the jet and came home last night. Without me. How many times do I have to say it? She’s a friend. There’s no reason to feel threatened by her. You’re the one I can’t stop thinking about. You’re the one I’ve cancelled my meetings for. You’re the one standing in front of me, so damn sexy and beautiful that right now all I want to do is find a private corner and fuck you senseless.” He breathed deeply, letting his words sink in.
“Second of all,” he continued, “I did return your phone call. It was several hours after you had left your message, and I’m sorry about that. When it came in, I was in a location not conducive to making phone calls.”
“What does that even mean? ‘Not conducive to making phone calls?’” It was my last stab at my defense, but something told me that Damien had his bases covered.
He sighed. “I was at church, Olivia.”
My eyes widened. “I—I didn’t know,” I whispered, feeling like a fool. “Are you religious?”
“Not particularly. It’s just something that I do occasionally. Like on Easter Sunday.” He looked at me knowingly. “They don’t like it when you use your phone during the service.”
I wanted to shrivel up into a puddle of humiliation. Still, his explanation of why Bella was there brought no comfort. As long as she was around, and he refused to see what her true intentions were—and if I had even a shred of doubt before, it was now vividly clear that she wanted him—there would be issues between us.
I tightened my arms, uncrossing them in the process until they were wrapped around me. “We’re completely different. This isn’t a fairytale. Happy endings don’t happen for me.”
“What are you talking about?” He stared incredulously at me. “You’re perfect.” His voice lowered. “I’m hard just looking at you.”
A single tear slid down my cheek. “Don’t,” I whispered.
He took a step toward me and I backed away.
“There’s more to a relationship than just sex.” I frantically wiped the tear away.
“You’re right. There’s trust. Respect. Acceptance. Communication.” His deep voice was like a beacon, and this time when he moved closer my traitorous feet refused to budge.
“From the second I first saw you in the street, you had my attraction. Trust? I’ve taken you to my home, shared my bed. I’ve surprised myself with the things I’ve confessed. I trust you more than I’ve trusted anyone. Your courage, your ambition, your strength, your determination…Olivia, how could I not respect you? You and I, we’re two halves of the same whole, two sides of the same coin. I accept you as I accept myself.”
I can only stared at him as I feasted on his words. Something inside of me clicked into place, and I gasped at how right it felt.
“Tell me. I know you’re attracted to me. But do you trust me, respect me? Do you accept me? Tell me, Olivia.” Without my noticing, he had positioned himself so close I could feel his body heat, which caused goose bumps to break out over my skin. His eyes were wide and searching, and the last of my veneer shattered into a million pieces.
I nodded my head, swallowing at the emotion in my throat. “I do,” I whispered, my voice like gravel. “I do. Damien, I’m sorry.”
He exhaled audibly, his own mask slipping to reveal a glimpse of the worry he hid so well. “It’s the communication that we need to work on,” he said with a half-smile, bending his head to take my lips in a soft kiss, the tiny flicker of his tongue against my lips an unspoken promise of much more to come. A soft whimper escaped me at the contact.
“Let’s get you out of here.”
He took my elbow, and I reveled in the slow sizzle of his touch. God, I needed it. How could I have been so stupid?
“I’m still working. I can’t just leave,” I breathed as he guided me toward the front desk.
“Where’s your boss?”
“Weldon took the day off. I’m in charge.”
He glanced around the gym. “Look
s like it’s running smoothly.” He peered at me, his arched brow a silent question.
Licking my lips, I glanced at Lou who was observing his client using the Universal. Damien was right, the after-work rush had calmed down and with the part-timers filling in, I could probably call it a day.
Damien’s eyes had followed mine, and I gestured toward Lou. “Give me a minute, to speak to Lou and get my things out of Weldon’s office.”
He released my elbow, leaning over to whisper in my ear. “One minute, Ms. St. Clair. Any longer and I’ll fuck you in that office.”
I jerked my gaze toward him. “You wouldn’t.”
His face was impassive as he glanced at his watch. “Tick tock,” he murmured, his eyes darkening in warning.
Heat flared in my belly, and I moved with a purpose toward Lou who saw me coming and stepped over to meet me.
“Unless you need me, I’m clocking out.”
Lou looked past me and raised his eyebrows. “New client?”
“No. Not a client.”
He smiled and winked at me. “We’ll be fine. You go on, Liv.”
Well. The cat was out of the bag now.
“Thanks Lou. See you tomorrow.”
Walking briskly toward the back hallway, I chanced a look at Damien and found him studying his watch. He wouldn’t, would he? The thought of office sex with Damien sent my heart racing and a hot burst of desire radiating between my legs.
Entering Weldon’s office, I snatched my purse out of the desk’s bottom drawer, quickly ensuring my phone and keys were in it, before flipping off the light and closing the door behind me.
Damien smiled wickedly as I joined him at the front desk. He had moved to stand on the back side of the circle in apparent readiness to come and find me in Weldon’s office. My inner muscles clenched as I wondered if I should have let him.
“All in good time, baby,” he said softly, guessing my thoughts correctly as he placed his hand on the small of my back. As usual, I was instantly aware of his touch.
We moved toward the entrance. “You’re awfully sure of yourself, Stone,” I teased, knowing when I was caught.
“That’s because I know you. We’re kindred spirits,” he said smoothly.
For the first time since I had met him, he was wrong. He didn’t know me, didn’t know the bad stuff, my triggers, my sad story. Didn’t know I was messed up.
If what we have between us had any hope of surviving, I had to tell him. He deserved to know. Full disclosure.
I needed to find the strength to tell him. Tonight.
* * *
The black SUV was waiting outside, Paul at the wheel. When I headed toward my Jeep, Damien’s hand slid around my waist in a tight hold.
“I don’t think so.”
“I need to stop by my house and shower.”
“I can take you. You can pick up an overnight bag and shower at my place.” He had already opened the door and was gently pushing me inside the backseat.
“But I can’t leave my Jeep here, Damien,” I protested weakly.
“It will still be here in the morning. Paul can drop you off. I assume you are working tomorrow?”
He had an answer for everything.
Before I could formulate another excuse for why I needed my car, I was tucked inside. Damien slid in beside me and leaned across to snap my seat belt in place. As he did so, I breathed in the clean scent of his hair and that fresh, male musk that was all his own. My hands itched to touch him, to run my fingers through his dark, silky hair, to let my lips travel over his skin.
He sat back in his seat with a smug look and grinned at me. I rolled my eyes at him and met his grin with one of my own.
He took my hand and kissed the tops of my fingers.
“Paul, we’ll be stopping by Olivia’s house first.”
“Yes, Sir. Good evening, Miss St. Clair,” Paul said, and I met his eyes in the rearview mirror.
“Hello, Paul. It’s nice to finally meet you.”
“The pleasure is all mine, Miss.”
I relaxed into the soft leather seats, Damien’s fingers entwined with mine, his thumb rubbing soft circles over my skin. I stole a quick glance and found him studying me, his eyes a mixture of warmth and wariness.
“I need to tell you something,” I whispered.
“I’m here to listen,” he said softly, pulling me into his side. His arm draped around my shoulder and he grasped my hand again, his chin resting against my hair.
It was so comforting, being in his arms, safe and happy. I absorbed the moment, stamped it into my memory, knowing with a heavy heart that this might be the last time I would feel this way.
I gazed out the window as the city passed by, marveling at the one-eighty my emotions had taken. Being with Damien was like living in a tornado. I squeezed his hand as I staved off the dark despair that lurked just beyond the surface of this utopia. What if his feelings changed after I told him? If this was the eye of the tornado, how could I live through the next wave of the storm?
The trip to my house seemed to take mere seconds. Paul pulled up to the curb, and we both slid out. Damien, ever the gentleman, took my hand to help me, and continued to hold it as we walked together to the porch.
Releasing his hand, I found my keys in my bag and unlocked the front door.
“I’ll be right back,” I said, making my way toward the stairs. “Make yourself at home.”
In my room I went straight to my closet. I pulled out my best blinged-out gym bag and began filling it with clothes for tomorrow. Turning, I nearly jumped out of my skin when I saw Damien standing in my bedroom.
“Didn’t mean to scare you, sweetheart,” he said. “But I have to admit, I love hearing you scream.”
“Tell anyone, and I’ll make you scream so loud the windows will break.”
“I won’t tell anyone,” I whispered.
“You better not, you stupid bitch. Or else I’ll plant you in the ground so deep they’ll never find you.”
“Damien!” My hand rubbed at my chest, trying to slow down my wildly beating heart.
Damien’s expression suddenly turned from teasing to alarm. He crossed the room in a heartbeat, taking me in his arms and tilting my head back to peer into my face.
“What is it? Olivia, what’s wrong?”
I was shaking, my skin clammy.
“Please hold me,” I whispered.
His arms came around me in a steel band, holding me tight. I snuggled against him, craving his warmth on my chilled skin.
“Talk to me,” he whispered, his voice pained and anxious.
I shook my head against his shoulder as embarrassment rolled through me. Why did this keep happening?
“Are you okay?”
“Yes. I’m sorry.”
“Does this have anything to do with what you wanted to talk to me about?” he asked softly.
He was so intuitive. After a beat, I pulled back and met his stare.
“Yes.”
His gaze turned troubled, and suddenly he kissed my forehead and let me go.
“Wait right here,” he said as he exited my room.
I heard the front door open and close. What was he doing? I picked up my bag and moved to my dresser, absent-mindedly selecting underwear and socks and tossing them in the bag. Where was he?
The front door opened and closed again. I dropped my bag and swiftly moved to the hallway just as he came into view. He was carrying bags and a small shoebox.
“Change of plans,” he said. My heart constricted.
“We’re staying here for the night. I hope that’s all right.” He stood in front of me and I looked up at him, my head and heart feeling the effects of emotional whiplash.
I nodded slowly. He’s staying here! For the night!
He walked into my bedroom, and I followed behind him. He set the box on my bedside table and his laptop case on the floor next to it, then walked to my closet and
unslung a black Gucci garment bag from his shoulder and hung it on my closet door.
“Are you moving in?” I teased.
“As it happens, I was already packed for a sleepover or two.” His smirk quickly changed into a grin.
His interrupted business trip.
“Will it be difficult rescheduling your meetings?”
“Some yes, some no.”
I nodded, feeling foolish over deleting his voice mails. This whole incident could have been avoided if I hadn’t been such an idiot. But then he wouldn’t be here, in my bedroom, looking his usual deliciously edible self.
“Nice bike,” he said, eyes scanning my room.
The bike stood propped against the wall. I still didn’t know what to do with it. Assured of its high price tag thanks to Justine’s nosy Googling, storing it in the garage was now out of the question. For now the safest spot to keep it was in my bedroom.
His eyes swiveled toward me, all traces of mockery gone. I recognized that look. It was the same one Lucy and I wore when we had presented Mom and Dad with cruise tickets two Christmases ago. We knew they would balk at our “extravagant spending,” but we wanted to give them something special. It had meant the world to us to see their faces light up.
I sighed. “It’s nice, isn’t it? My generous and thoughtful boyfriend gave it to me.”
His eyes gleamed. “Your boyfriend sounds like a great guy.”
I nodded, smiling at his ridiculous grin. “He’s lovely,” I whispered.
He traced a finger down my cheek. “Lucky guy, your boyfriend.”
Joy filled my heart, standing with him in my bedroom, playing the third-person game. I shook my head, pushing his chest playfully.
“So why aren’t we going to your place?”
He cocked his head as he gazed at me. “I thought you’d be more relaxed. And it gives me a chance to see the vixen in her natural habitat.”
We stared at one another for a few seconds until my shoulders began to shake from withheld laughter. Damien smiled broadly, his dark hair hanging down in that sexy-messy way of his, looking every inch the most gorgeous man alive. But as struck as I was by his beauty, it was his caring nature and thoughtfulness that bowled me over. How did I get so lucky?