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But the thought of how Damon would react to the truth unleashed a swarm of butterflies as large as bats in her chest. There was every chance that he would walk away without a single second’s hesitation, because whilst the person responsible for Jacob’s death had been arrested and convicted, in Damon’s eyes her father was the real culprit.
Carrie knew he wasn’t innocent. Her father’s actions had caused a lot of pain, and Carrie would live for ever with the debilitating panic attacks that had been triggered by the media hounding they’d endured in the wake of the scandal, but she’d never considered him entirely responsible, and she hadn’t expected Damon would either.
But when her curiosity about him had prompted an online search, amongst the thousands upon thousands of hits that Damon’s name had generated—detailing everything from his gorgeous female companions to his celebrity friends and the homes he owned across five continents—she had seen how wrong she was. Every bit of the animosity Damon felt for her father was there in black and white.
His distaste for his business practices. His frustration that Sterling had escaped from the scandal unscathed, as well as his certainty that he was solely to blame for it all.
As Carrie had read, her stomach had twisted into tighter and tighter knots—because had he known who she was the previous night, she knew Damon would not have looked her way.
But he had...and it had been wonderful and exhilarating.
It had been such a long time since Carrie had felt even the tiniest shimmer of attraction for a member of the opposite sex. No man she’d met had come close to penetrating the fear and mistrust that Nate’s deception had burdened her with. But that had changed last night with Damon.
A single searing look and slow half-smile from him had jolted her as if she’d been shocked with electricity, setting her heart alight and infusing her blood with streaks of fire. He’d introduced himself and held out his hand, and though the name had sent a shocked charge zipping along her veins, the warmth that had spread to the rest of her body when his long fingers had closed around hers had pushed the significance of his identity entirely from her mind.
Because suddenly every inch of her had been tingling with a sensitivity she instinctively knew could only be soothed by him.
As easily and as quickly as that she had been lost. Except it had felt as if she was found.
A warm shiver danced down Carrie’s spine as the feelings she’d been flooded with the previous night rushed back to her. And even as sparks of anxiety continued to flash in her eyes like warning lights she crossed to the door, hoping with all her heart that now he’d found her Damon would want to keep her, even after she told him who she was.
Damon Meyer resisted the urge to glance again at his watch. Carrie was late, and a voice in his head was starting to question if she was going to show up at all—a voice he quickly silenced with the assurance that such a rejection was unlikely.
Every signal she’d transmitted the previous night had said that she wanted to see him again and continue what had been started. He’d read it in the reluctance of her gaze to part with his, and in the tremor of desire that had rippled through her when he’d kissed her goodnight, their lips tantalisingly close to touching. He’d had to draw on all his control not to pull her tight against him and claim her as his own then and there!
But tonight he was giving himself permission to act on those heady impulses—provided that was Carrie’s wish too.
It wouldn’t be anything more than a fleeting affair. Damon had neither the time nor the energy to devote to a real relationship. He’d long ago committed himself, heart and soul, to his revenge against Sterling Randolph, and he would not stray from that path until Randolph had paid for putting his father in an early grave.
That score, however, was getting closer to being settled. And once the Caldwell deal was his he’d have done it. But that was business, and for the evening ahead he wanted to focus solely on pleasure...
The hum of conversation surrounding him fell away and all thought vanished from his mind as Damon’s gaze zeroed in on the striking figure just arriving. His heart started to pound with an unfamiliar tempo, and as Carrie’s searching eyes found his, the same bolt of attraction that had drawn them together the previous evening flashed through Damon, white-hot and stronger than anything he had ever experienced.
‘Excuse me,’ Damon said to his guests, unbothered by their startled surprise as he abruptly exited mid-conversation.
Never taking his eyes off Carrie, he cut a path through the growing number of guests to where she was on the upper terrace. Coming to a stop before her, he could only stare, a hot feeling stirring low in his stomach, as his eyes were drawn to all the mesmerising ways the magenta silk kissed the gentle curves of her body.
The moment Damon had seen that dress he’d known that he wanted to see Carrie in it. The outfit she’d worn the night before had been stylish, but muted. The dark colour and the modest design had flattered her body—there had been no doubt about that, given the wayhisbody had reacted to her in it—but it had been designed to allow the wearer to blend in, and some innate inner sense told him that was exactly why she had selected it.
His choice of gown, however, allowed for no such hiding. Whilst the dress hinted at more skin than it actually revealed, with its deep neckline and invisible leg slit, it was a daring cut, and with her silken fall of raven hair hanging straight and sleek over her narrow shoulders and down her back, she looked sensational. The lightest dusting of smoky shadow enhanced her already beautifully wide eyes, making them look even bigger and brighter. And her lips...those lips.
Damon wanted to kiss her. In that second it was the sole thought in his mind. He wanted to banish the space between their bodies, draw her into his arms, hold her against the heat of his body and slant his mouth over hers, finally know the feel and taste of her.
Dazed by the force of his wanting, Damon took a second longer than necessary to locate his voice. ‘You look even more incredible than I thought you would,’ he said, his voice roughened with a craving that only deepened as his words caused a rosy blush to unfurl across her cheekbones.
‘So do you,’ Carrie replied, although her exquisite olive-green eyes had yet to break the searing connection of their gazes to take in the flawlessly fitted black suit and pristine white shirt he wore. ‘And the chateau is spectacular. I’ve never seen anything like it.’
‘Thank you,’ he replied, though he did not care one iota about the chateau in that moment. Only her.
It had been only twenty-four hours since he’d met Carrie, and he had spent no more than a handful of those hours with her, yet to Damon it seemed as though he’d been waiting to touch her for ever. The ache to feel her melt beneath him was deep and visceral, sending heat rushing through his blood and tightening his groin.
His attention was so fixed on her that it only took a second for him to spot the pulse hammering in the sweet hollow of her neck. A rapid sweep of his eyes revealed even more signs of nervousness—the firm way her lips were pressed together, the white-knuckled curl of her fingers around her clutch bag. He didn’t want her to feel anything in the slightest bit negative, but he could understand how the extravagance of this evening might be overwhelming to a girl from a small, close-knit community in Santa Barbara.
Everything about the evening was overwhelming: the sprawling chateau designed to resemble a fairy-tale castle, the grandeur of the party upon which no expense had been spared, the few hundred personally selected guests, each of them demonstrating their precocious wealth in the diamonds, rubies and emeralds that glittered around their throats and on their ears and fingers.
And most overwhelming of all was the attraction that held them both in its thrall. Even Damon was finding the ferocity of their chemistry intense.
He took a step forward, banishing the distance between them. He saw the tremble that ran over her shoulders as he breached her personal space and her long dark lashes lowered, shielding the uncertain flicker of her eyes.
