by Julie Olsen
Damien’s hand attached to mine and removed it, though not until I gave another squeeze for good measure. “I haven’t forgotten, Olivia,” he said, his eyes piercing before looking at the arch-browed Diana. “I’ll have Sam get in touch to schedule something next week.”
Diana said nothing for a moment, no doubt trying to ascertain if she actually saw me manhandle Damien’s goods.
We stood and Damien and Diana said their good-byes, as Diana’s car had arrived. When they shook hands, she kept darting her gaze toward me before finally turning to me with her hand only half extended.
“Olivia.” Gone was the superior attitude and in its place, a recognition of a worthy opponent.
“It’s nice to meet you, Diana. Perhaps I’ll see you next week.” I smiled demurely.
Diana cocked her head bemusedly and frowned before turning on her heel and striding from the dining room.
After she was gone, Damien turned to me. Oh damn, here it comes.
“What was that?” He took my elbow and led me out of the restaurant. He didn’t sound happy.
“That was me staking my claim. You didn’t tell me the CEO was a woman. Nor did you tell me she wants to get you in bed.”
We were heading toward the elevator and Damien turned to me. “Nonsense. Diana Houston happens to be married, with children.”
At that point I tuned out, my entire attention focused on a man sitting in a burgundy leather vintage tub chair several yards away. He had his legs crossed and was reading a newspaper. His back was to me but his hair was jet black and short, almost military-style, and parted on the left. On his right wrist the glint of a gold watch peeked out beneath a wet rain jacket. As I stared at the man, he rose and walked away toward the concierge, leaving his paper in the seat of the chair by awkwardly placing it behind him and never allowing me a clear view of his face. The way he walked…
Travis.
My breath left my lungs in a rush. Pinpricks of alarm ran across my scalp, and I was acutely aware of a sudden lack of oxygen in the cavernous room. My legs were made of granite, but somehow I made them move as I went to follow him, even though every brain cell in my head told me to run in the opposite direction. His strides were long and quick as he continued to walk away, bypassing the concierge on his way to the revolving door.
“Olivia, what is it?”
Damien grasped my shoulder, slowing my progress.
“You’re white as a sheet. Baby, what’s wrong?”
I was shaking as I turned to him, breaking my eyes away from the fleeing man. “It’s Travis. Travis is here. He’s walking out the door.”
Damien’s expression turned hard and menacing. His head swiveled toward the front of the hotel, his eyes squinting and focused. “Stay here,” he growled.
He wound his powerful frame through the throng of people standing in the hotel lobby. As soon as Travis entered the revolving door, Damien began running. My heart was in my throat as I followed, slowly at first before breaking into a fast walk. Damien bypassed the revolving door and barreled through a regular door to the side, ignoring the man trying to enter. He turned left, bolting down the sidewalk on a shout.
By the time I exited the hotel, Damien and Travis had disappeared in the rain.
CHAPTER 24
I turned my head repeatedly, squinting into the night, knowing I saw Damien run west but seeing nobody in that direction. A few cars splashed along the city streets, but this was a driving rain. Not fit for man nor beast, was how my mom would describe it. This wasn’t the kind of rain you dance and sing in. And as I peered bleakly through it, only able to discern approaching cars by their headlights, I realized it was the perfect kind of rain for escaping into the gloom.
“May I help you, Miss?”
A uniformed doorman approached me from my position at the edge of the awning and considered me kindly.
“Did you see two men run off in this direction?” I asked, pointing down the sidewalk.
“I did see one man go that way, yes. Is there a problem I can help with?”
One man. I knew I had seen Damien head this way, but the doorman only saw one man. So where was Travis?
As I stood there, unable to decide what to do next, I saw a faint outline of a man jogging toward me. As he neared, I could see that it was Damien.
He slowed as he approached, and I stepped back so he could step under the awning. He was soaked from head to toe, his hair plastered to his head and rivulets of rain running down his face.
“I couldn’t find him. I’m sorry, Olivia,” he said. He was breathing heavily, his voice wooden and wary. “Are you sure it was him?”
“He ran, didn’t he? It had to be him. He all but ran out the door when he realized I recognized him. He kept his face turned so I couldn’t see him, but it had to be him. He knew I saw him, and he took off into the night.”
I was rambling but couldn’t help it. Damien fixed me with a defeated stare.
“Sir, anything I can help you with?” The doorman had returned and was looking at the drenched Damien with true concern.
“A man was here. Short black hair, dark green rain jacket. I saw him exit and go west.”
“I did see him, Sir. I saw him run across the street into a waiting car. I assumed he was running to stay out of the rain. Is there a reason for concern?”
Damien’s eyes shifted up and down the street, but there was nothing to see but the pouring rain. It was coming down in sheets, making it impossible to see more than ten feet in front of you. He closed his eyes as his breathing steadied.
“No.” He passed his hand over his face, clearing some of the water away. He turned to me and shook his head slowly. “I’m sorry, Olivia,” he repeated. He started to cup my face, then stopped suddenly and pulled back, letting his hands hang at his sides.
Damien’s expression, haunted and lost, cut through the last thin strands of my ragged chain mail. So many things came into sharp focus at that moment. My own fears were shed, like a snake’s skin, and fell to the ground. I wanted to comfort him and give him the happiness that he gave me. I wanted it like I had never wanted anything before. He deserved it. We both did.
I took a deep breath and carefully leaned in to brush his lips with my own. “I thank God I met you. You’ve become precious to me. I haven’t felt safe in so long, but with you, I do. Thank you for being here for me.” My voice wavered as I pulled away to look at him. “I love you, Damien.”
His mouth closed and his eyes widened and blinked. Time stood still and my heart skipped a beat as I stared into his pale green eyes. On a groan, he grasped my face in his hands and kissed me hungrily. The kiss went on and on, his warm lips sucking softly, his tongue skirting almost hesitatingly against mine.
“Olivia.”
I circled my fingers around his wrists, wanting desperately to hold him yet torn about ruining my dress that he gave me. Unable to resist another second, I stepped closer just as he took a step back.
We were both breathing heavily, and I was aware of people moving around us. “I need to get you off this godforsaken street and home.” He smiled and it was full of wonder.
Taking my hand, he led me through the hotel—his jacket dripping and his waterlogged shoes squeaking on the deep blue carpeting—not stopping until we were in the elevator. His hand was cold and wet, but I didn’t care. I held it tightly, rubbing my thumb across his skin while my own skin shivered with want.
Another couple, decidedly less wet, was sharing the elevator with us, but they politely averted their eyes from Damien’s drowned rat appearance. He found his phone and punched in a call before removing his suit jacket, revealing a wet white dress shirt that stuck to every slab of muscle on his back and chest. The woman’s eyes moved over him slowly then flickered in my direction. I stared back coolly, and she quickly found a spot on the floor to look at.
Damien glanced at me as his call was connected. “He was here. Yes here, at The Drake. Oliv
ia saw the son of a bitch and he ran. I chased but couldn’t find him. No. Call Edwards. I want her to check the guest list at all hotels in the vicinity. I know it’s a long shot, and he may be using a fake name, but sooner or later he’s going to make a mistake. Yes, we’ll be in the air shortly. Keep me informed.”
Damien ended the call and placed another one to let the limo know to pick us up in fifteen minutes.
The other couple exited a few floors below us and then we were moving again. Damien retrieved his keycard from his wallet before we stepped out into the hall, my hand in his firm grip. He keyed into the room and stood aside to let me enter.
“Olivia.”
His hands reached for my hips followed by his lips at my nape. He trailed soft kisses down the angle of my neck. “We don’t have much time, baby.” His lips continued their path, moving languidly across my bare shoulder. I wanted so badly to lean back against him, to have his arms wrapped around me. He stopped and turned me around to face him. “I want to tell you so many things. But not here. Can you wait until we’re home?”
“Damien, it’s okay.” Just say it. Tell me you love me.
“No, it’s fucking not okay,” he said. “I promised I’d keep you safe, and he was right under my nose.” He shuddered on an exhale, shivering with cold.
I gazed up at him, willing him to understand. “You did everything you could. I know that.”
He leaned his forehead against mine. “I’m sorry things turned out the way they did.” He pulled back and bent his knees until he was at eye level. “I’m going to find him. I promise you that. He’s never coming near you again.” He stared at me so resolutely that I could only nod.
His eyes softened and he seemed at a loss for words. “What you said…”
“Shh.” I placed my finger on his lips. “You’re shivering and the limo will be here in a few minutes. We’ll talk when we get home.”
He stared at me a moment longer and then nodded. “Let me change and we’ll leave.” He placed a last lingering kiss on my lips before heading for the bedroom, removing his tie as he went.
I hurried to the closet, finding a plastic bag for laundry services. “Let’s put your wet things in this. Hopefully your suit isn’t ruined.”
“Baby, don’t worry about the suit.” He smiled as he stripped out of his wet clothes. “I like you fussing over me.”
I smiled back on my way to the bathroom to pack up our toiletries.
I love to fuss over you. I love everything about you.
We packed up in record time. Damien even had time to quickly blow dry his hair. As it would have taken me much longer to change, I chose to stay in the dress. I remember what he said earlier, about wanting to get me out of it. An idea came to me. Maybe he would get his wish later.
The limo was waiting for us as we exited the hotel. Although the rain wasn’t as torrential as earlier, it still made the drive to the airport more treacherous, especially now that it was dark. Damien pulled me against him on the cold leather bench of the limo. The rain cast a chill that even the limo’s heater couldn’t dispel, and Damien wrapped his arm around my shoulders as he placed a call to who I assume was either Bill or Karl, telling him to prepare the plane. My left arm circled his waist, and I snuggled into his warmth.
“You probably won’t believe this, but I’ve never been to Chicago before,” I cooed against his chest.
“Never?”
I shook my head, feeling overwhelmed by the events of the evening.
“I’ll bring you back one day and show you where I grew up,” he said, his voice harboring the sadness I felt. I knew he had intended so much more for us tonight. The surprise trip in his luxury jet, the gorgeous gown and shoes, beautiful earrings—my first jewelry ever from a man.
Warmth swelled inside me as I remembered his attention on me until Diana had arrived. I told him I loved him. I had never said that to a man, never felt love for anyone like I did for him. He didn’t say it back, but I knew in my heart he felt the same.
“I’d like that.”
He kissed my hair. “We’ll be home soon. We’ll put this night behind us.”
I stilled and slowly straightened to look at him. “It wasn’t all bad, was it?” I whispered.
He met my eyes and the sadness in his voice projected from his gaze with such vehemence that I flinched.
“I failed you,” was all he said.
I scrambled up until I was kneeling next to him and took his hands in mine. “Damien, don’t let Travis win. I told you I love you. Surely that means something to you.”
He stared at me long minutes while I died inside. “How can you love me, Olivia?”
A pain, stabbing and desolate, formed in my chest. I shook my head and flattened his hand against my heart. Tears threatened to spill, and I blinked them away. “How can I not?” I croaked. “You’ve not failed me. You’re everything to me.”
He gasped and closed his eyes tightly before pulling me against him. I was rolled across his lap and into the leather. His body was hard against mine, almost painfully so, as he maneuvered his large frame over me. His mouth was hot and unforgiving, the roughness of his five o’clock shadow like sandpaper on my face, and yet I kissed him back like a woman possessed.
His hands strayed lower, his fingers dancing oh-so-softly over the exposed tops of my breasts before cupping them savagely. I moaned into his mouth, loving this desperate side of him just as much as his gentler side.
The limo came to a stop, and I whimpered as he pulled away. He looked down at me, his eyes blazing. “In a minute that door is going to open. You are so fucking beautiful and it’s taking everything I’ve got not to tell the driver to keep driving. But you deserve better than this limo. I want you home, in my bed.” He sat up and helped me upright, then reached up and pulled my hair free from the bun. It cascaded over my shoulders, and Damien finger-combed through it. I looked down, making sure I wasn’t busting out of my dress, and made the proper adjustments just before the door opened.
“Let’s go home,” he said.
“Yes.”
* * *
“Wake up, baby. We’re home.”
I squinted as the interior lights of the plane switched on. I was tucked tightly against him on his lap, my head on his shoulder as he gently maneuvered me. Dimly I realized we had landed while I was not buckled up, surely a faux pas in Damien’s book, yet he let me sleep through it.
I sat up slowly, turning in his lap until I was able to stand, if rather ungracefully.
“You didn’t take advantage of me in my sleep, did you?” I said teasingly as I ran a hand over my face.
He laughed low and soft. “I didn’t want to disturb you. You needed that rest for what I have planned in, oh”—he consulted his watch—“about thirty minutes.”
Everything south of my belly button clenched deliciously. It felt like days since he had been inside me, even though it was just this morning. Well, yesterday morning now, since it was certainly past midnight. I reached down and he took my hand and I tugged.
“Well, let’s hurry then,” I said as he kissed me softly. His eyes turned smoldering at once, and he pulled open the drawer to retrieve his laptop and then we were off the plane.
The Cayman had been brought via valet and Karl laid our garment bag in the trunk as Damien was stowing his laptop. The rain had passed in St. Louis, and the air was thick with humidity, although the night sky was so clear I could see stars. I stared at them, trying to make out the constellations, as Damien drove us home.
Home.
For my entire life, home had meant the blue 1920s bungalow on Meriwether Place, yet now I thought instinctively of home as where Damien was. I wanted to be with him, wherever he was. And at this precise moment, we couldn’t get home fast enough.
He threaded his fingers through mine as we wound through the wet streets. Why did he feel so unworthy of my love when he had been there for me at every turn? What
had happened to him to make him have such a low opinion of himself? There was still so much to learn, and starting tonight I was making it my mission to find out everything.
He pulled into the parking garage and slid into a slot. For the first time, I noticed my Jeep was parked several spots away. There was a time when that Jeep was my livelihood, but I’d barely thought of it in days. How quickly I had adapted to life with Damien. We got out and he walked around to the back to retrieve the bags.
“I don’t suppose I could drive myself to work tomorrow?”
He frowned as he shut the trunk. “Don’t you like Paul taking you?”
I shrugged. “I like my independence. I’m not used to someone waiting around for me.”
We walked to the elevator and he punched the code. “I’d rather you not drive until we ascertain Dunn’s whereabouts.”
Before I had a chance to fully mull that over, his phone rang. I tried not to eavesdrop, but as we were in such an enclosed space, it was impossible not to.
“Paul has contacts at Chicago PD. Yes, I’m aware of that. No, that’s not good enough. Extend the radius and keep searching. So the airlines are a definite dead end unless he’s sophisticated enough to have a fake identity. Amtrak too. Okay, it’s sounding more probable that he drove, so spread feelers down I-55. Yes, I want to know immediately when you’ve got a hit.”
The elevator opened at the penthouse, but Damien was still talking. I leaned over and took the garment bag before exiting. Damien stepped out with me, his phone to his ear and his laptop case in his other hand.
“One minute, Edwards.” He hit mute on his phone and looked apologetically at me. “Baby, I need to tie this up in my office. I won’t be long.”
I leaned over and kissed him, and he set the case down before enfolding me in his arms. “I’ll be up in a few minutes.” And then he left, walking toward another area of his apartment I had never seen. Again I made a mental note to have Damien take me on a tour of this place.
I paused to remove my heels, as my feet were killing me and the idea of taking the stairs in them was almost too much to bear. Leaving my clutch on the breakfast bar, I headed up with my shoes in one hand, and the garment bag in the other. I walked up the stairs slowly, hiking up my skirt so I didn’t split it.