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She wanted to demand why he’d followed her, why he was in her head so she couldn’t think of anything else. But she knew if she dared to open her mouth her whole world would collapse. So she stared up at him, fighting just to keep breathing. Frantically, she searched for the countdown to the next stop.
‘Don’t think I will hesitate to restrain you if you try to run from me again.’
Reiko didn’t doubt he meant it. But staying on the train was so much worse than Damion’s threats. Distressed, she bit her lip. His gaze dropped to her mouth, then rose to rake her face. His dark frown intensified.
‘Reiko? Are you okay?’
Lips clamped shut, she desperately shook her head.
His arm surrounded her immediately, caging her in his protective warmth. The scent of his aftershave filled her nostrils. Helplessly needing him, she clung to him for dear life. His arms tightened around her and she raised her head to look at him.
He stared right back at her, then gave a grim smile. ‘We’ll go and feed your fish. Then we’ll talk. No excuses this time. It’s time to remove these barriers between us once and for all.’
Damion barely succeeded in hiding his relief when she sagged into him, but his insides clenched with the knowledge that something was seriously wrong with Reiko. Her face was pale and her grip tightened on his jacket at the barest movement of the train. Confusion rumbled through him.
There had never been a choice as to whether he’d follow her or not. In fact the need had been so visceral he hadn’t paused a millisecond to examine it. His head of security would probably be having a coronary, because Damion was sure the team hadn’t made the train. He’d barely made it.
He, who’d never chased a woman in his life, who took pains to extricate himself from a liaison at the first sign of clinginess, had just chased a woman down a heaving subway and through several train carriages, a chasm of fear gaping wide at the thought that he’d lost her.
She cast furtive glances at him. He remained silent. He needed time to process exactly what was going on inside him.
His gaze wandered over her slightly parted lips, the wide, beautifully shaped eyes, the wild abandon of her hair, the small but perfectly shaped body, the thin edge of the scar that ended beside her right ear.
He wanted her as he’d never wanted another woman—so much so his insides quaked with the thought of not having her.
What he didn’t understand was why. He’d taken steps never to associate himself with the sort of woman he’d found Reiko out to be shortly after he’d walked away. Women like his mother, and especially his grandmother, who’d created so much unhappiness in his own childhood.
And yet here he was …
‘How many more stops?’ he asked, absently noting that his voice wasn’t quite as steady as he wanted it to be. He wanted to get off the train. To drag her into a distant cave, look into her eyes and uncover her every last secret. He wanted no secrets between them.
He’d pretended Isadora’s secrets were harmless until it had been too late …
‘One more.’
‘Do you live alone?’ The sudden thought that she might not hit him with a force of a tornado.
‘No, I have a boy toy tied to my bed. You’d just be cramping our—’
He grabbed her chin and shut her up the best way he knew how. Her breath whooshed into his mouth, sending a hot tide of want surging through him. Damion didn’t care where they were or who was watching. The kiss fired up his whole body, making him yearn, making him crave her …
Mon Dieu, it was almost as if … as if … he was obsessed.
He jerked back from her, a sudden chill slamming through his need. His head reeled.
Her eyes widened, looking up at him with an almost frightened expression. He wanted to tell her not to be frightened but he knew he couldn’t make such an assurance.
The train pulled into the station and he lifted her in his arms. The look of naked relief on her face finally clued him in as to what was going on with her. His pace quickened as he mounted the steps with her arms clamped tight around him. The contact fired through his whole body, adding to the sheer surrealism of the whole situation.
He kept her close, protecting her from the lunchtime throng as they made their way out of the station into the sunlight. When she tried to wriggle free, he held on.
‘Which way?’
‘Past the traffic lights and up the hill. My apartment is on the left,’ she murmured.
He moved before she’d finished speaking, his stride long and purposeful, fuelled by a need so strong he felt every inch of skin suffused by it.
Obsession …
