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Elaina whipped around. “What?”
“I’m sorry. Are we finished? Talking about what mom said yesterday, I mean.”
Elaina, stood in the hallway and looked right and then left. “I suppose it’s best we are finished.”
Abby threw her arms up. “Great time for everyone to start being cryptic.” Before she could process her conversation with her sister or work herself into another guilt trip about lying to Damian, her phone buzzed. It had to be him. It was six o’clock on the dot. Of course, he wouldn’t be late. His text told her he was outside.
Awesome. She had to force herself into character as she grabbed her coat and made her way downstairs. She’d hoped she wouldn’t see Celeste before she left, but her mother was there to greet her with her usual frosty demeanor at the bottom of the spiral staircase.
“Abigail, you look presentable. Good. Remember why you’re doing this. Don’t get caught up in Coldwell’s charm.”
“Please, Mom … He is not that charming.” She looked at the floor. A lie. A big fat one. “I’m sure I can resist.”
“Good. Don’t disappoint me, Abigail.”
“Never ...” She wondered if Celeste caught the sarcasm behind her words. It seemed to Abby that she’d been nothing but a disappointment to her mother since the day she was born. It was a relief when she stepped outside and inhaled. It would be great if she didn’t have to come back to the mansion after her date but she had to keep up the pretense. What she would give to be at her cozy apartment curled up on the sofa with a glass of wine and a good book.
“Your face is like an open book. What’s wrong?”
Abby gasped and halted, her gaze rising to land on Damian. He was leaning against a sleek, black car instead of the tiny silver sports car he’d driven the day before. “Nice car.”
His lips curled into the boyish smile that she’d gotten a glimpse of yesterday. “A lady told me tiny sports cars don’t suit me.”
“Smart lady.”
“Indeed.” He straightened and strode toward her with slow, confident strides. He wasn’t wearing a coat, so she got to appreciate the way his suit clung to his muscular frame as if it was custom made. Abby couldn’t take her eyes off of him as he neared and stopped in front of her. By standing on the last step, she didn’t seem quite so intimidated by his height. “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”
“What do you mean?”
“You came out looking as if someone had kicked your puppy.”
Her mouth twitched. “I don’t have a puppy. And nothing is wrong. I just had a little sibling tiff.” It was the best she could come up with, and it wasn’t a complete lie. Elaina’s words still remained in her mind.
“Are you alright?”
Abby’s gaze lifted to meet his. There was genuine concern on his face. For someone allegedly as callous as Damian, his concern for her feelings was surprising. “I’m fine. It was nothing serious.”
With narrowed eyes—sort of like Clint Eastwood—he studied her face…and she wanted desperately to look away.
“I can’t see much under that coat, but I imagine you’re looking ravishing.”
Abby’s stomach clenched. She knew now why so many women fell into Damian’s bed. The way he purred out the simplest of compliments made a girl want to throw her panties at him and beg him to take her. She couldn’t help the heat that spread into her cheeks, and in the pit of her stomach. She had to remind herself that Damian wasn’t the nice, charming man that he pretended to be. He’s evil, Abby. Remember that.
He held out an arm. “Shall we?”
***
Dinner was pleasantly and unexpectedly relaxing. Despite her ulterior motive for accepting Damian’s invitation, Abby found herself enjoying the date. Damian matched her wit with his own. Usually, she could talk people under a table, but he held his own…and more.
“Wuthering Heights, West Side Story, Romeo and Juliet, Madame Bovary,” Damian said. Abby shrugged and sipped her wine. He looked her in the eyes. “I’m starting to think you have a dark side, Abby.”
Her heart stuttered a few times before resuming its normal tempo. For a second, she was thrown into confusion. “Why … Why do you say that?” Dark brown eyes, the darkest she’d ever seen, seemed to penetrate her to her very soul. Was it possible that Damian had figured out that she was playing him?
He smiled. “You just said that you enjoy some of the most tragic love stories in classical literature.”
She let out a breath. Damian appeared totally at ease and leaned back with his glass of water in his hand. His gaze was fixed on her face, and she hated it. She felt like he could see everything that she wanted to hide. “Do you have a dark side, Abby?”
She squirmed in her seat and let out a laugh. “No. I choose to focus on the epic romances. You’re the one who pointed out that they were all tragic. Perhaps it’s you who has the dark side.”
