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“Bella.”
“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance Bella.” The way Damien says my name makes me warm inside. He speaks very well with a strong English accent. It’s like he has been to private school but not in a pretentious way. He sounds a bit like Jude Law in the film ‘The Holiday’ but his voice is much deeper. His eyes are dark and deep. I could get lost in them. He smells fresh and manly and makes me feel comfortable and safe. His hand rests on my shoulder. I shiver at his touch. Damien quickly removes it, obviously thinking he has over stepped.
“It’s fine. I’m just a little anxious after what happened,” I lie. My eyes linger on his lips, imagining what they would feel like on mine. A small smile begins to spread across them as if he knows what I am thinking.
“Can I escort you to your boyfriend? Your friend? Who are you with tonight?” Damien asks as he scans the bar.
“Thank you, I don’t have a boyfriend and my friends are just over there. I’m sure I will be fine now. Thank you so much for your help with everything but I really must be getting back to my friends. They will be wondering where I am. It was lovely to meet you, Damien,” I say.
“As you wish Miss White, the pleasure was all mine,” he replies.
As I walk back to our table, I realise I didn’t give Damien my last name. I turn to ask him how he knew but he has disappeared. I take my seat next to Katie and fill her in on the excitement I’ve had on my way back from the toilet.
“I am never letting you out of my sight again!” she exclaims.
On Sunday morning, I wake up with a fuzzy head. I had such a good night that I don’t regret the way I feel. We laughed and danced the whole night. The group have welcomed me warmly and I already feel like one of the team. I keep replaying my encounter with Damien in my head and it baffles me how he knew my surname. I keep thinking of the way he effortlessly got Graham away from me. The way he looked at me, the way he smelt. I have never felt like this around a man before. All the years being with John, not once had he sent tingles down my body by just looking at me.
Speak of the devil, my phone pings with a message:
John:BELLA I AM SORRY RING ME PLEASE.
John has messaged me every day. Sometimes I reply and sometimes I don’t. Sometimes his messages are apologetic and sometimes they are angry.
Bella:Thank you for your apology, John. I am also sorry for hurting you, But I am starting a new life in London. It is the best thing for both of us. I really care about you John, and I hope that we can be friends.
John:FRIENDS?! You are going to be my wife! You have proved your point now come home!
I decide not to reply. John is obviously still very hurt, and I don’t want him to get more upset. I just hope in time he will accept it and move on.
I spend all morning in bed and later ring Chloe and tell her all about my night. Chloe advises me to stay clear of all men at the minute. She’s right; I came here to concentrate on my career not to fall into the arms of another man. Damien’s arms, his big, toned arms that could pick me up and…Bella stop! I really need to get my mind in check- what is going on with me?
I keep myself busy for the rest of the afternoon. Katie and I get a pizza delivered and chat about the salon. I go to bed feeling really excited to start work tomorrow.
Chapter 4
Damien
I search the hotel database and find Bella’s records. There is something about Bella that makes me need to find out everything about her. I feel drawn to her; I want her in ‘every’ sense of the word. I know I am stepping into dangerous territory but I can’t help myself. When I want something, I get it.
I find out she is from a small town in the country and that she is a hairdresser in the hotel’s salon. I could do with a haircut. I walk into the modern salon. It’s spacious, black and white, clean and professional. I approach the receptionist and ask if anyone is free to cut my hair now. I just want a glimpse of Bella. I need my fix.
“I am very sorry sir, but we are fully booked today,” the receptionist tells me. I look around the salon and to my disappointment, I don’t see the golden- haired beauty I’m looking for. I am just about to leave when I hear the sweetest voice from across the room- Bella.
“Sarah, I think I can squeeze a gent’s cut in. Mrs Pye isn’t quite ready to have her colour to be taken off yet, and if I get one of the assistants to shampoo for me, I can accommodate the gentleman.” She walks over to the reception area and realises it is me.
“Damien, what a pleasant surprise,” she says as her cheeks began to flush with rose pink that then travels down to her chest. I love the way her body reacts to my presence. “Would you like to follow me sir?” Bella seats me in a chair and places a gown around me. As she fastens the buttons around my neck, I can feel her fingers against my skin; it feels good. I think about those fingers and where I would like them to be.
Bella talks away while cutting my hair. It’s fascinating watching her work; she is such a perfectionist. The little faces she pulls as she concentrates have me smiling. She has just about finished when suddenly, she stiffens. The colour drains from her face and the little smile she just wore disappears. I follow her gaze to see that smarmy A hole that had grabbed her the other night. He walks our way. Hold on a minute? I recognise the uniform he is wearing. He is a King employee? What? He can’t be, surely not. Fury builds inside me. Bella obviously realises my fuse is about to blow. She puts a hand on my shoulder and whispers,
“It’s ok- I’ll handle it- he’s the hotel manager,” she says. Like hell he is. Not for much longer.
“There you are Bella. I need to speak to you after work, I’m sure you need to apologise,” he says, glaring at my Bella.
“LIKE HELL SHE DOES!” I shout. I stand and face him. I have a least a foot on him. He obviously suffers from “little man syndrome”.
“Oh, It’s you again. I should have you arrested for assault,” he points his finger at me and I lose my s**t.
“I strongly recommend you walk out of here right now before I ruin this white floor!” I say in the face of the little man.
