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“It would be great to get to know her better before the wedding.”
“She loves a good night out.”
“You sound rather scared.”
“Chloe can party until she drops.”
“My poor baby too overwhelmed to party.” He pecks the tip of my nose and chuckles.
“Every day, you become more brazen.”
“Hmm, don’t think you can do much about my bad girl inclination,” I banter, my pulse spiking up as his eyes sparkle with mischief.
If I knew what was coming, I wouldn’t have nodded expectantly because he tickles me. I gasp and through bursts of laughter, I say, “Damien . . . please . . . stop.”
“Will you behave?”
“Never.”
I escape from his grasp during the few seconds when he shakes his head at me, amusement crinkling the corners of his eyes. I rush away as Damien says, “Where do you think you can go? You know what happens when I catch you because I always do.”
His threats succeed with only one thing—heat to course through my veins. He knows damn well what he’s doing. I blink at him in fake outrage, and a sexy chuckle sound flies out of his mouth. He’s slightly behind me, displaying a confident stance at how I have no chance to overrun him. I’m not running. It is more like a rapid walk. But it’s funny, and I smile with the acknowledgment. We have a lot of fun together—we laugh as loud as we love, and we give and give some more.
I lose focus for a second, or better said, let myself be caught, when strong arms envelop me from behind. The heat of his body cocoons me. I close my eyes and let the vivid passion radiate from our bodies consume me. I lock everything in the depths of my heart. Damien turns me toward him as he dips his head and kisses my temple. He closes his eyes briefly and lets an imperceptible breath out. His gesture reveals so much. It shows me all his love, along with his needs, hopes, and fears. Every one of these feelings lay on me like a soft breeze on a scorching summer day.
I lock my hands around his neck, forgetting about the honks and the surrounding buzz. I lose track of time, space, and life as we share a kiss on the stone pavement around some corner, stealing these moments, hiding them from the outside. They are just ours.
If perfection exists, it’s in these moments when two souls bind as lips seek, and warmth unfolds like a thousand sun rays after hundreds of rainy days.
Back in the car, love ballads croon through the stereo system while I sink into the comfortable leather seat, my hands wrapped around his arm. I lay my head on his shoulder. His tender kisses on my hair lull me in until I battle with sleep. Until my heart fully recovers, some tiredness remains. Damien sings along in a velvet-smooth voice, making it harder to resist.
“I’ll wake you when we’re home. Just rest for a while.”
“But . . .”
I try to rebel, but tiredness wins this argument.
Chapter Eighteen
BRIA
My eyes flutter open, and I peer outside where endless green and rows of trees greet me. We’re outside London. I shoot upright in the passenger seat. I should have listened to my instincts because there’s no stopping Damien from taking care of me. Although I’m thankful for his caring way, not so much when I glance at my phone and have only half an hour until everybody arrives.
I force myself not to yell at him. His eyes soften at the sight of my still sleepy figure, warming me from within and my anger diffuses.
“Don’t be mad at me. I’m on the way back. I won’t apologize though, my number one priority is you and your well-being. Everyone else can wait.” He caresses my cheek.
“Don’t you dare look at me with that intense, penetrating look that always makes me forget why I want to yell at you.” He chuckles and leans over the middle console and steals a kiss.
“I make you forget, ha?”
This is what he took from my words. I bite the inside of my cheek, suppressing a smile.
He clasps my hand in his and kisses each finger down to my palm. Why was I angry to begin with? I’m lost in the feeling of him. I don’t care if we are late anymore. He practices some kind of magic and keeps it from me. Selfish man.
***
In the shower, the hot water sprays down my skin. I tilt my head to the bathroom door to catch a cheerful Damien sway inside. He did something. The mischief is written all over his face. This is Damien, and if he wants something, he will get it one way or another, and the look I witness on him shows he wants me.
