Risk Taker

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Risk Taker Page 2

by Kelly Collins


  “It’s your given name. If your parents wanted someone to call you Kat, they should have named you Kat.” His eyes narrow. “Second, I looked it up before I picked you up tonight. It means pure, and after meeting you, I can see the purity in you. You are not a woman of the world, Katarina.” He sits back and looks into my eyes. “Not a cat with sharp claws and a finicky personality. If you are a feline, you are a graceful and intelligent one with a nice touch of mischievousness and a good dose of innocence. It’s such a beautiful name and perfect for you.”

  There’s my heart again, beating wildly. How can his words throw me off balance so completely? How did he sum me up in less than fifty words? What does that say about me? I’m young, naïve, and maybe a little fun?

  He’s playful, sophisticated, and sexy. He’s also off-limits. Deep in thought, I’m oblivious to our arrival until the car stops, and the door opens.

  “Are you ready to go?” Damon stands outside of the car, extending his hand to help me exit. “Don’t be nervous. It’s just dinner.” His smile is disarming. If you’ve never seen a Viking god smile, it’s a sight to see.

  I step out of the car as gracefully as one can in heels. He quickly places his hand in mine and confidently guides me up the stairs and into the building where an amalgamation of perfumes and colognes sits heavy in the air.

  We stroll through the crowd together. Steering me from group to group, he introduces me to a broad range of people, from politicians to movie stars. Damon seems to know everyone. I would have thought I’d be starstruck by all the A-listers present, but I can’t keep my mind off Damon Noble.

  After an hour of smiling and mingling, the dinner bell rings, and we’re herded into the dining room. He escorts me to the head table, where we will sit with the mayor and the board of directors from the hospital. As a major sponsor, they place Damon in a position of honor. He helps me into my chair before seating himself.

  Sitting two tables away, I spot Emma. She winks at me and then turns her attention back to her escort, which reminds me that all my attention should be on Damon. As I turn to look at him, I find him gazing at me. It’s as if he’s trying to figure something out.

  “What are you staring at?” I ask in a quiet voice, so I don’t draw attention to our conversation.

  “Just admiring how the light reflects off your hair. It has the most interesting effect. Turn your head in one direction, and it looks gold, but if you shift in another, the color turns to platinum. Tell me, if you were to let your hair down, where would it fall?” He reaches up and touches a strand of hair that’s come loose, tucking it behind my ear.

  His touch warms me.

  “It falls midway down my back.” Once again, I’m gifted with a broad smile.

  A tap on my shoulder draws my attention away from Damon’s hundred-watt grin. Looking up, I see Emma.

  “Can I borrow Katarina for a minute?” We both look at him and wait for his response.

  “Certainly, but don’t be too long. It’s almost time for dinner.”

  Emma and I walk to the bathroom, where we touch up our lipstick and powder our noses.

  “How’s it going?” Em asks.

  “I think it’s going well. He’s charming, and, you were right, he has been an absolute gentleman. I don’t think you did him justice when you were describing him. I mean, he is not only handsome but also engaging.”

  “Well, he isn’t exactly my type in the looks department, and as far as engaging, I’ve never really seen that side of him. He’s usually stoic.” She kissed a Kleenex and tossed the red-stained tissue into the trash can. “I’m a little surprised at the way he looks at you. Normally, he’s not attentive, but he’s taken with you, Katarina.” She giggles as she pronounces my name Kah-tah-ree-nah with the best foreign accent she can fake. She fails miserably, but it makes me laugh.

  “He’s just being nice,” I reply.

  “Damon isn’t known for the after-dinner social scene. He’ll probably stay a little while to be polite and then tuck you in a car and send you home.”

  “Oh, okay. Thanks for the heads-up. I have to study, so getting home at a decent hour will be great.” I smile on the outside, but somewhere inside, I feel disappointed. I’m all dressed up and won’t even get to dance, and there is no doubt in my mind that Damon would be an excellent dancer. “How is Anthony? Is he a nice man?”

  “He’s interesting.” That’s all she says as she guides me back to Damon.

  He stands as I approach and helps me into my seat.

  “I thought you had abandoned me or left with someone else,” he says.

  “Did I miss anything while I was gone?”

  “Not unless you missed me.” He quirks a brow.

  I smirk at the silliness of his statement. “I guess I missed nothing, then.”

  He slaps his hand against his chest. “I’m wounded.”

  “Somehow, I doubt that, Mr. Noble.”

  Shortly after I take my seat, they serve dinner. The meal begins with a crisp salad and fresh bread.

  Conversation continues to be lively as our table mates trade stories about their lives. I sit quietly and take it all in. Who would have thought I’d be dining with the mayor tonight? Who would have thought I’d be here with Damon Noble?

  The woman to my right is on the board of directors at the hospital. Her name is Rose, and she’s an oncologist. She engages me in a conversation about my education and says she is also an alumna of UCLA.

  Looking at Damon, she asks, “Where did you find her? This one is a breath of fresh air.”

  “A mutual friend introduced us.”

  He stares at me with his glacier-blue eyes, and I find it hard to look away. There is something mesmerizing about the color of his irises. Some unseen force has fused my gaze to his, and the intensity of his look sets my heart fluttering.

  “I hope you keep this one,” the older woman says as if she has some say in Damon Noble’s love life.

  “I might keep her,” he says with a hint of authority.

  His hand covers mine, and he squeezes it gently. I’m uncertain what the squeeze means, but I assume it means to play along.

  I lean over and give him a chaste kiss on the cheek that makes my lips tingle. “That was such a nice thing to say.”

  The moment is interrupted by our second course, which includes a beautifully prepared filet and a piece of salmon. The steak looks succulent and moist, and the salmon is cooked to perfection. I can tell everyone is enjoying their dinners by the silence at the table.

  The lack of conversation gives me time to appreciate the room, which is gilded in gold and has large chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. An elegant floral arrangement decorates each table, and someone has placed name cards above each place setting. Mine says, “Guest.”

  “Did you enjoy your dinner, Katarina?” Damon uses the linen napkin to wipe his mouth and sets it on the table next to his near-empty plate.

  “It was delicious. I especially liked the salmon. What about you?”

  “The meal was nice, but I took pleasure in watching you eat. Did you know you chew everything at least twenty times?”

  I giggled. “I don’t exactly count to twenty, but I chew my food well, so I don’t choke. I wouldn’t want you to have to give me the Heimlich.”

  “In a room full of hospital staff, there would be someone more qualified to perform the task.”

  I look around at all the older guests. “You’re probably right, but I’m sure they wouldn’t be nearly as handsome or charming.”

  His eyes narrow. “Don’t let me fool you,” he whispers in a deep voice. “I’m a wolf in sheep’s clothing.”

  “I’ll consider myself warned.” What the hell? “What do you think we’ll have for dessert?” I ask.

  He removes the program from under his plate and scans it until he finds the menu. “It looks like you will have pot de crème with raspberries and fresh whipped topping.” Leaning back in his chair, he adjusts his cummerbund and smooths out the
silky material with his long fingers.

  “What about you? Don’t you eat dessert?” I’m surprised someone would want to pass on a little pot of chocolate wonder.

  “I don’t indulge in dessert often.”

  “Well, that just seems criminal. No wine and no dessert? What do you indulge in?”

  His eyes light up, and a wicked smile spreads across his face. “I can assure you I indulge. However, my tastes likely differ from yours. Enjoy your chocolate,” he says.

  “I’m intrigued.” I want to explore the subject further.

  “You’re not ready.” His salacious grin disappears as he sips his coffee, and I know we’re not talking about dessert.

  As the master of ceremonies talks, Damon leans over and whispers in my ear. “Don’t go anywhere because I’ll be right back.” He rises at the mention of his name and walks to the podium.

  He takes control of the room and mesmerizes me. There’s not a sound as everyone waits to hear what Damon Noble has to say.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming out to dinner tonight. This fundraiser is near and dear to my heart. Over ten thousand children and young adults are diagnosed with some form of cancer each year. The five-year survival rate has increased from fifty-eight percent to nearly eighty percent since 1970. Your generous donations to research keep us moving forward in our search for a cure. I stand before you and ask you to give generously. Your dollar could be the one that saves a life.”

  As Damon steps down from the podium, the thunderous sound of applause is deafening. The master of ceremonies takes his place and waits for the crowd to settle down.

  “If you enjoyed dinner tonight, thank Mr. Noble and his mother, Rose, for their commitment to the Los Angeles General Hospital and their continued support of cancer research. Please stay and enjoy the live music and dancing.”

  Rose is his mother? The information bounces back and forth in my head. Looking at her, I see the resemblance. She has similar blue eyes, although Damon’s are brighter and bluer. Her hair looks almost silver, but it was probably a light blonde when she was younger. Feeling heat spread across my back, I turn and find him staring at me.

  Can someone warm you with a look?

  “Damon. Katarina.” Rose says. “I’ll leave you to enjoy the music. It’s been my pleasure to meet you, young lady.” Looking straight into Damon’s eyes, his mother says, “I’d like to see her again.”

  He leans forward and kisses her cheek. “Good night, Mother. I’ll talk to you soon.”

  After Rose leaves, I ask, “Why didn’t you tell me she was your mother?” It seems odd he didn’t introduce her as such.

  “It didn’t seem important.” He shrugs my question off with a tip of his shoulder.

  “I like her. She’s nice.”

  “She has her moments.” He stands and pulls me next to him. “Would you like to dance?”

  Shocked by his invitation, I’m left speechless and confused. The night has ended, and I’m supposed to be on my way.

  His brows raise in question. “You dance, don’t you?”

  “I dance. I didn’t suffer through two years of ballroom dancing for nothing. My mother guaranteed me each time Jimmy Horner stepped on my toes, there would be a payoff later in life.”

  Damon escorts me onto the dance floor, where he takes control. He twirls and dips me until I’m dizzy. Expecting to stay for a song or two, I’m surprised when he insists we stay longer.

  He pulls me close to his chest as the song ‘The Way You Look Tonight’ by Michael Bublé plays. We dance in the center of a crowd, yet I feel alone with him in the room. For the next two hours, there is nothing or no one but him and me.

  “I think we outlasted everyone here,” he whispers in my ear.

  When I look around, we’re the last couple remaining. The band packs up, and the hotel staff tears down the room.

  “I had such a good time, but I’ll regret this tomorrow when I have to be up at six for work. For now, I’ll bask in the glow of contentment.” Sadly, I feel like Cinderella just before the clock strikes midnight. I’ve just met Prince Charming, but I can’t have him.

  “I’m glad I met you, and as my mother mentioned earlier, you are a breath of fresh air.”

  We walk out the front door and down the steps. The car waits, and I expect him to help me in and send me home. I climb inside the car and situate myself. Knowing he’ll close the door and I’ll ride alone, I remove my shoes from my aching feet.

  Damon stands with the door open. He peeks in the car then stands up before stepping back. The door closes, and I feel a sense of sadness as it shuts. Just before the latch clicks, I hear a groan, then the door opens wide, and Damon takes a seat beside me.

  “I thought we already said goodbye.”

  He sits close enough for his body to touch mine from shoulder to thigh.

  “Is it okay if I escort you home? I’m not ready to let you go yet.” He closes his eyes and rubs his forehead. This is the first time I’ve seen his confidence waiver. Holding his breath, he releases the air, and his cheeks deflate. “I don’t normally do this. I usually just send my companions home by themselves.”

  “I heard.” I rotate my body, so I face him. “I also heard we should have left hours ago, but I’m glad we stayed. It would have been a shame to get all dressed up and not dance with you.”

  Looking at my discarded shoes, he asks, “Do your feet hurt?”

  I chuckle. “I’m certain men designed high heels. They look great, but after several hours of standing in them, they’re like a medieval torture device.”

  Damon makes room and reaches down to grab both of my feet. He shifts me so that they’re in his lap while his long, skilled fingers rub the soreness from my toes. The feeling is divine, and I let out a satisfied groan as he continues to knead his way toward my heels.

  “Would you be interested in accompanying me again?” He leans forward, quirks his brow, and smiles.

  “Damon, I’m not the escort, I’m the fill-in. I only did this because my best friend needed my help. I’m sure Emma will never double-book again.”

  “Katarina, I don’t want Emma. I want you, and I’m willing to pay you for your time.” At the mention of money, he stops rubbing my feet and pulls out his wallet. He flips through his bills and pulls out several hundred. Folding the money in half, he places it in my palm.

  The crisp bills feel uncomfortable in my hand. Although they are new bills, they make me feel dirty. Before he can put his wallet away, I hand the money back to him.

  Pulling my feet from his lap, I sit next to him. “Thanks for a lovely evening, but I can’t take your money. It’s just not me. Emma can justify selling her time for money, but it makes me feel wrong. I’m flattered you would like me to escort you again, but I’m not that girl.”

  His head lowers as he nods in affirmation. “I understand. You’re a candy-and-flowers type of girl. You like walks in the park and movies with popcorn. Am I right?”

  “You’re so good at summing me up in very few words. I wish I were different, but yes, I want the popcorn and movies.”

  He heaved a sigh. “Sadly, I’m not that guy. Out of curiosity, what are your prerequisites for dating?”

  I ponder this for a few moments before responding. “You can’t be a serial killer, and you need nice teeth.”

  “Wow. Nice teeth? Your standards are high, Ms. Cross.”

  “A girl has to set the bar somewhere.” He thinks I’m joking, but nice teeth are important, and he has a smile a dentist would be proud of.

  I lean back against the seat and sit in silence for the rest of the trip. Thoughts about how nice dating Damon would be, fill my mind while I leaned against his shoulder and dozed off.

  “Katarina? Wake up. We’re at your house.”

  I slowly open my eyes and realize I’m nearly wrapped around his body.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you.” I feel awful and cheated. I wasted fifteen minutes sleeping wh
en I could have spent them with this man.

  “You’re exhausted. Work and school can be taxing.” He walks me to my door and kisses me gently on my forehead. As he turns to leave, he says, “Call your mom and tell her thank you for the dance lessons. I had a good time.” Shoving his hands in his pockets, he looks at the sidewalk. “Take care of yourself, Katarina.”

  I stand on the porch and watch him walk away and disappear from my life.

  Emma opens the door and yanks me in. “Where have you been?” Her voice is almost frantic. “I was so worried about you and thought maybe you had an accident.”

  “I’m fine. Contrary to your belief, Damon likes to dance. We stayed and closed the place down. He was a perfect gentleman, and I enjoyed myself. Thanks, Em. I never thought I could have so much fun.”

  With her hands on her hips, she stands before me. “You like him, don’t you?” She hasn’t been home long herself because she’s still wearing the blue dress.

  “Yes, I like him, but he’s out of my league. I’m not an escort, and I’d have a tough time separating my feelings from my job. How do you do it?”

  “I’ve never connected with any of my clients. And while some are attractive, I feel nothing more than a tingle between my legs.”

  I blush at her candor, but it is one thing I love about her. She’s an open book and always tells it like it is.

  “He asked me to accompany him again,” I mention.

  “Really? What did you say?”

  “I told him I’m not the escort, I was the fill-in, and if he needs a companion, he should call you.”

  “Hmm.” She rubs her chin. “I watched you two, and there’s something there. You haven’t seen the last of Damon Noble. He’s into you. Probably wants to get into you.”

  She bursts out laughing, and I wave her off and head to bed. Six o’clock will come much too soon.

  Chapter Three

  Java Joes at six in the morning is pure torture. Thank goodness it’s a Saturday, and things won’t get hopping until around eight. Between the lattes and cappuccinos, my mind returns to last night’s fundraiser.

 

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