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Her lips trembled, and his heart clenched again.
Before he could stop himself, he brushed his thumb over her lips. Softness registered, along with an intense need to remind himself of her sweet taste.
Bravo, Damion.
‘I mean it, Damion. Don’t make me kick your ass.’
Sudden fire flamed through his groin.
‘Say my name again,’ he instructed, before the thought had fully formed.
Wariness entered her eyes. ‘Why?’
‘I’ve always loved the way it sounds on your lips.’
‘Damion …’
Fabrice walked into the dining room. Damion cursed under his breath and sat back. The anxious look on Fabrice’s face when he saw their barely touched plates immediately abated when Reiko smiled at him.
‘It’s my fault, Fabrice. I think I’m still digesting the panini I had at lunch.’
Fabrice nodded. ‘Would mademoiselle like a lighter main course, perhaps?’ he suggested.
Reiko shook her head and touched his sleeve.
Everything inside Damion clenched—much tighter than it had this morning. The sensation seemed to knock the breath out of him. With ruthless force, he shoved it aside and focused, to find her accusatory gaze fixed on him.
‘No, I’m sorry, Fabrice. I don’t think I can eat anything else,’ she said.
His butler took the news with annoyingly obsequious grace. ‘Pas de quoi, mademoiselle. Et pour vous, Baron?’
Damion dismissed him with a shake of his head. After Fabrice had left, Damion glanced over and watched her tuck a strand of hair behind her left ear.
She looked up and caught his gaze. ‘What?’ she asked. ‘If you’re going to accuse me of ruining your dinner, forget it. You performed that magnificent feat all on your own.’
His teeth hurt from being ground together. ‘I wasn’t. I’ve lost my appetite, too.’
‘Well, hard-core interrogation has a habit of doing that to you. Here’s a tip—next time do it after your belly is full of Michelin-star-quality goodness.’
Damion didn’t answer. He stared at her, unable to shake the single disturbing thought running through his head.
He hated the thought of Reiko touching other people.
Reiko woke up just after midnight in excruciating pain. In her distress after the disastrous dinner with Damion, she’d forgotten to do her exercises. All she’d sought after bidding him a terse goodnight had been escape.
She’d collapsed onto the couch, knowing there was no way she would sleep.
How wrong she’d been. Not only had she slept, she hadn’t been haunted by nightmares.
Only unbearable pain.
She gritted her teeth against the pain shooting through her pelvis and struggled to regulate her breathing. In the end she knew she had no choice but to do something about it. Gingerly she struggled into her Lycra unitard and made her way to the sleek state-of-the-art gym Damion had shown her when they’d toured the apartment yesterday. Ignoring the highly sophisticated gym equipment, she grabbed a bottle of water and headed for the far side of the room.
Lowering herself onto the mat in front of a mirrored wall, she took a sip of water and breathed in deeply. The first series of exercises were so painful her skin was covered in sweat by the time they were over. But she knew the next set—the knee thrusts—would be even more painful. The very thought of them made her moan in despair.
‘I don’t quite know how to interpret a beautiful woman moaning in my gym in the middle of the night. Alone.’
Her head snapped towards the voice. Damion leaned in the doorway, wearing sweat pants and a tight white T-shirt, with tousled just-got-out-of-bed hair. Heat slammed into her chest even as she hastily pulled the grip from her hair so her fringe fell over her face. The high neck and long sleeves of her outfit thankfully covered the parts of her body she needed to be covered.
