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20
It was still darkwhen Damian slid from the bed, careful not to wake her. He was surprised how quickly she’d fallen asleep in his arms after they made love. Like a child finally exhausted, her breathing had turned soft and regular, her soft exhale a whisper against his chest as he’d held her.
He hadn’t slept much. He’d been too overwhelmed.
He wasn’t surprised to feel concern. Sleeping with Aria Fiore would complicate things regardless of where they went from here.
But he hadn’t anticipated the depth of emotion that had moved through him as he’d held her. Hand’t expected the lack of regret. They would both pay a terrible price for what they’d done, but he couldn’t bring himself to wish it away. It had been a long time since he’d felt connected to someone.
Had he ever felt connected to anyone?
He didn’t know. He only knew that there had been something indefinable between him and Aria from the moment he’d laid eyes on her. He didn’t believe in love at first sight.
Hell, he didn’t know if he believed in love at all.
But there had been something there. Some kind of kinship in her eyes that told him she understood. That she sometimes felt alone even when she walked the streets of the city, surrounded by thousands. That she lay awake at night wondering if anyone would notice if she simply disappeared. That like him, she sometimes wondered if she’d disappeared long ago. If she’d faded from reality like an old photograph and now only existed in her own mind.
Maybe he could have brushed it off if the sex had been bad. Or even if it had been mediocre. But sex was too modest a word to describe what had happened between them. It had been a primitive kind of synergy, the way her body had moved with his.
A long-awaited completion.
Like the click of a final puzzle piece into place, one that hadn’t seemed important until you found it and realized it changed everything.
He pulled on his clothes and headed for the hall, stopping in the doorway to look at her. It was something he already knew he would never grow tired of doing. Her face was endlessly fascinating. He saw something new every time he looked at her. She was alternately innocent and seductive, beautiful and fascinating.
There had never been anything in his adult life but work. He’d approached it with a single-minded passion that had usurped every other desire. Now he found that he wanted to strip off his clothes, slide back into bed, pull her into his arms, let the war be waged without him.
It wasn’t possible. The wheels were in motion, the men waiting.
He closed the door behind him and made his way down the stairs. He'd programmed the coffee the night before (had it only been a few hours?) and was pouring it into a commuter mug for the road when he heard her voice behind him.
“You’re leaving.”
He turned, still holding the mug. She was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, his T-shirt grazing her upper thighs. He wanted nothing more than to go to her, kneel at her feet, lift the shirt, bury his face between her legs.
“I have business that won’t wait,” he said.
She nodded, chewed her lower lip. “It was just sex,” she said suddenly.
“Excuse me?”
She drew in a breath. “I just… you don’t owe me anything. I know what happened between us doesn’t change anything with Primo. I don’t want you to think that’s what it was about for me. We’re both adults. It was just sex. It doesn’t have to change anything.”
He sat the mug down, crossed the room to stand in front of her. He slid a hand into the hair at the back of her neck, tipped her head until she was looking up at him, her dark eyes defiant.
“You’re right,” he said softly. “It changes nothing.” He bent his head to hers, kissed her long and slow, taking his time reclaiming the territory. “And it changes everything.”
She was breathless when he pulled away. He walked back to the counter, picked up the mug and his keys. He paused next to her on his way to the door, reached up to stroke her cheek.
“I’ll be back tonight. Don't tell anyone where you are.”
He forced himself to walk before he changed his mind. He wasn’t sure he was in the clear until he was outside and in the car, leaving behind the beach house and the woman who would either be his salvation or his ruin.
