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‘I’m glad you’re here,’ he said, his voice low and soft. Reassuring.
Carrie emitted a shaky breath. ‘I...’
He couldn’t stand her lowered gaze. Gently he placed a finger under her chin and tilted her head up, so the full force of her eyes once again rested on him, and as she read whatever emotion it was he could feel burning through him, the conflict and anxiety she was battling seemed to ebb away. ‘So am I,’ she responded softly. ‘I’m happy I got the chance to see you again.’
‘Did you really think I wouldn’t do everything in my power to make sure we had that chance?’ he questioned smilingly, feeling much more at ease as he stood close enough to feel the heat from her body. ‘In the interest of full and forthright disclosure, I have spent all day unable to think of little else other than seeing you tonight.’
‘I’ve been thinking a lot about you too.’
‘Good,’ he responded, and felt a violent kind of euphoria barrelling though him that she was just as enthralled as he was.
But then emotions that didn’t stay long enough for him to discern flittered across her expression, and she pulled in a quivering breath. ‘But there is something I should mention before we...before this...’
From the corner of his eye Damon detected the multitude of glances being directed their way. Attention was nothing new to him. From the moment of his first architectural success he’d been the focus of countless profiles and interviews, attracting attention for being his father’s son and for the unexpected sensation caused by his work. From then his profile had exploded.
Fame had never been something he craved, but he’d quickly realised it could be to his advantage. The bigger his profile, the more publicity his takedown of Randolph would attract—and he wanted the whole world to witness his downfall! So he smiled and waved, consented to interviews and accepted invitations to the biggest dates in the social calendar. And as all that attention turned him into a figure with even more renown than his father, it became impossible for him to attend an event without at least a dozen strangers making a beeline for him, eager to see him and be seen with him.
And, judging by the hungry looks from some of those who’d been lucky enough to make it onto the exclusive guest list, tonight would be no different.
But Carrie was also drawing a fair amount of speculation, which was no surprise given how sensational she looked, and he estimated it would be only another ninety seconds before they were interrupted. That was the last thing he wanted. He was in no mood to share.
‘Let’s take a walk,’ he interrupted, sliding a hand to her lower back to guide her away from the curiosity of the crowds. ‘I’ll show you the chateau.’
‘Can it wait a second? I really do need to say something,’ she said, as he extracted a key from the inner pocket of his jacket and fitted it into a lock, pushing open a tall, panelled door and gesturing her inside.
‘We can talk inside.’
Carrie looked between him and the open door uneasily. ‘Are you sure this is allowed?’
He lifted his shoulders in an unconcerned shrug. ‘I have the keys. I’m the architect. I think we can get away with it.’
‘I don’t want to get you in any trouble.’
Damon couldn’t help but smile. He was already in deep trouble where she was concerned.
‘It’ll be fine,’ he assured her. ‘Besides, what is the point of knowing the architect if you don’t get a private tour?’ He gestured for her to step inside. ‘Now, what was it you needed to tell me?’
But Carrie wasn’t listening to him. She had fallen still, admiring the large room they were in, her eyes wide and her lips parted in awestruck wonderment.
‘Damon, this is beautiful,’ she breathed, her eyes hungrily taking in the room from floor to ceiling, slowing over all the intricate detail. ‘It’s like stepping back to a different time.’
‘The brief the owner gave me was to restore it to its former glory with just a few contemporary touches.’
‘The detail is incredible.Allof it is incredible,’ she said.
Her unfiltered awe made his achievement seem even greater. Bigger than when he had declared the project complete. And as she continued to admire the room Damon was interested only in admiring her: the shape of her body, her graceful movements, the glow the low lighting cast across her smooth skin.
‘Is the owner going to live here?’
‘I’m not sure. Perhaps. He’s also considering utilising it as an investment, renting it out for events. He’s hosting his daughter’s wedding here in a few months. I imagine he’ll decide after that.’
‘It’s a spectacular place for a wedding.’ Carrie turned to him, her eyes lively and curious. ‘Was it projects like this that made you want to be an architect?’
Unhappy with how far away she had strayed from him, Damon took the opportunity to close the space between them as he answered her question. ‘Not especially, no. Buildings like this are special, and I enjoy getting to work on them, but no. I...erm... I wanted to be an architect because my dad was one.’
He had admitted that a hundred times before, but saying it to Carrie felt different somehow, as if he was placing an old key in a different lock, opening up something new. He hesitated, feeling that sense generating a faint pulse of unease, but then he caught the way she was regarding him from her rounded beautiful eyes and it was a look that was utterly compelling. A look that made him feel that there was no place to hide. Or, even more poignantly, noneedto hide.
‘He specialised in urban planning, development and regeneration, working a lot with local governments, but he was an architect first and foremost. He loved buildings—especially old grand ones like this, with a rich and proud history. He liked delving into the story of a building and using that to guide his designs. He just loved building things in a way that was infectious. So I did too. He took me to every site he worked on...walked me through the structure, showed me the plans and asked what I thought. It was our father-son thing. I once told him I thought a wall was in the wrong place. He went back to the plans and changed the design, then told me I was a natural, maybe even better than him. And he was the best. It was never really a decision to choose the same career. I always knew I wanted to be just like him. And after he died, I was even more set on following in his footsteps,’ he admitted, realising as he said the words how much truth they carried.
