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Copyright © 2015 by Alicia Rae

All rights reserved.

Visit my website at www.aliciaraeauthor.com

Cover Designer: Sarah Hansen, Okay Creations

Editor and Interior Designer: Jovana Shirley, Unforeseen Editing

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. 

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To my family,   
for your undying love and support in everything I do.

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Prologue

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

Sixteen

Seventeen

Eighteen

Nineteen

Twenty

Twenty-One

Twenty-Two

Twenty-Three

Tattooed Scars

Dear Readers

Acknowledgments

About the Author

#

In every storm, there was a looming darkness that could never be deterred or escaped. Its path would be unpredictable. The winds could shift in an instant, causing untold damage.

The only way to be rid of it would be to let nature run its course and let faith guide us, hoping to still be standing in the end. 

#

After three excruciatingly long and painful months, today was finally the day I'd been waiting an eternity for. It would decide if my tumor would win and take my life or if, by some miracle, my body had survived the fight, and I would have a future. Given the nature of my aggressive glioma tumor, the odds were highly stacked against me.

Sitting up in my bed, I faced my nightstand and allowed my feet to hit the old wooden floor. A cool breeze swept across my naked scalp as I eyed the three clean bandanas on my table. My choices today were a pastel pink and white, blue and silver, or dark purple and white. Going for optimism and cheeriness, I selected the pink-and-white one to brighten my spirits. I folded the material in half from corner to corner and raised my hands to tie it around my head.

Losing my hair hadn't bothered me as I viewed it as a battle wound. Even though I was at ease in my own skin, I wasn't comfortable with all the stares that came along with being bald. Hiding it from the world was much easier than enduring the lingering inquisitive eyes that had probed me all day, every day.

As I shakily rose from my bed, my empty stomach twisted and churned, causing me to dry-heave for oxygen. My mouth was bitterly dry. I craved water so much these days, so I forced my weak limbs to carry me to the kitchen to fetch a glass. Each movement was slow and took great effort as I was still recovering from the horrid effects of the vigorous chemotherapy treatments.

As I tipped the glass up and let the water glide down my throat, I had to bite back my natural urge to vomit. I briefly closed my eyes, inhaled a deep breath before gradually releasing it, and sipped at my drink, hoping this technique would quell my queasiness.

My abdominal area grumbled loudly, and I knew that I would have to stomach some sort of food before my morning appointment. Nothing appealed to me in the slightest. My taste buds had up and left me three days into chemo and had yet to return.

I lifted the Sara Lee bread off the top of the microwave and pulled out one slice of bread to pop it down into the toaster. Then, I grabbed the butter from the fridge and the peanut butter from the white pantry.

When I went back to the toaster, I numbly stared at the glowing red light on it while accepting that there were no words to describe the feelings I harbored inside me or how rapidly those emotions could change.

I was hollow, a lifeless empty vessel. My throat and stomach would tolerate a minimally sufficient supply of food and nutrients in my bloodstream. If I pushed my limits with my meals, especially breakfast, it would come up in seconds. My limbs moved only enough to carry me where I absolutely needed __ to go, and sometimes, they'd refuse to do even that. My heart beat just enough times to keep me alive. Some days, since the odds of survival were so greatly stacked against me, I wondered if I would care if my tired cardiac muscle stopped. I was that weak, that defeated, and that desperate to not feel any pain.

A ping sounded, and my toast popped up. I reached for it, snatched a paper towel from the roll on the countertop, and began to lightly spread the butter and peanut butter on the warm bread.

I took my food to the brown stool at the kitchen island and sat down while listening for my roommate and best friend, Iris, to see if she was awake. No noise was coming from the hallway, so I assumed she was still asleep. I'd heard her come in around three in the morning, so she must have had a busy night at the bar where she bartended part-time.

I bit into my toast and chewed. Even though I couldn't taste it, my gag reflex kicked in full force, and I had to resist the urge to spit out my food. Breathing in and out through my nose while chewing, I pondered over all the other times when I'd been strong and on top of the world, back to the days when my faith had been unbreakable, when I had wanted to live, and when I'd solemnly vowed to make this tumor my bitch.

This was going to be one of those moments where I so desperately needed to cling on to my faith and my dream to live my life to its fullest potential again.

Just ninety days ago, I had been happily engaged to a man who made me believe the world was ours to conquer. Nick and I had been eagerly counting down the eight months and four days until we would say the words _I do_ to forever.

That blissful countdown had come to an abrupt end less than twenty-four hours after I'd received wind of my _new_ countdown. I'd been given an estimated six months to live, if the tumor proved to be unbeatable. A mere six months--that was it. At that time, I'd only had half of a year to scratch off every single dream on my bucket list.

At first, chemotherapy had been a breeze. It'd numbed the pain in my heart from being ditched by the man I'd believed was my soul mate, someone who would stand by me till the end of time. But I'd quickly learned that Nick had no intentions of sticking it out during good times and bad--or poor health, I should say.

I managed another bite of my whole-wheat toast and swallowed. It tasted like garbage, but then again, everything did.

As a distraction, I let my mind drift, thinking of how quickly life could change. One minute, I had been planning a wedding, and the next, I was on death row with a low percentage rate of survival.

My harsh reality had given me a raw slap in the face. I had welcomed the pain though because it was less agonizing than the truth. And the truth was, I had been left to face this storm alone--with the exception of Iris. She was all I had.

Other than Iris, I had no family here in Sarasota, Florida. My foster parents, Joyce and Frank, had kicked me out of their home two days after my eighteenth birthday when their state aid for me had come to an abrupt halt. Needless to say, we hadn't spoken since, and I was going to turn twenty-six at the end of this month.

But Iris was my savior, my angel in the flesh. Morning, noon, or night, she would be my shoulder to cry on, giving me words of affirmation when I truly needed them the most. She'd force me to fight on days when I wanted to let the darkness swallow me whole, praying it would carry me away to a place without excruciating pain and heartache or the impending feeling of defeat.

I managed to eat my entire slice of toast within fifteen minutes, which was rather good for me. I rose from my spot and dumped my napkin into the trash bin before turning to go to my bedroom to dress for the big day.

To my right, Iris's door opened, and she came bouncing down the hallway with her arms open wide for me. "It's finally here! Today's the day we've been waiting for, Raelyn!" She gingerly threw her arms around me, as if I were a frail twig that might break.

Iris had a natural ability to make me smile, even when I simply didn't want to. Those big hazel eyes of hers always seemed to aim straight at my heart, sparking a sliver of hope and light into me.

But as much as I wanted to believe in a positive outcome, I had to make sure she knew that the likelihood of this appointment working out in my favor was slim. I needed her to be prepared. If she fell apart on me in the doctor's office, I'd undoubtedly lose it and have no one to hold me up. And I was already on the verge of crumbling.

"Iris," I began softly, "I hope you understand that there is a high probability that today might not go as you've planned in your head." I searched her gaze while holding back an onslaught of tears. "I...I just need you to be prepared for the worst."

Iris slowly drew back and tapped her fingers across my cheek, giving me a friendly slap. "Stop it. I won't tolerate any of your negativity," she demanded sternly. "Your body has kicked this cancer's ass these past few months, and Dr. Enright is going to confirm my beliefs in less than an hour," she added confidently, referring to my oncologist, as she set her hand on her slender hip and tilted her head at me. "And after he does, you're going to take me out to Starbucks, so we can have mochas."

The thought of tasting chocolate on my tongue sounded heavenly. However, I knew I wouldn't be able to taste its awesome flavor because everything I ate or drank tasted the same--bland. I tucked the negative thought away. I'd sacrificed enough recently. If by some miracle Iris were right, I'd have a mocha and drink all of it, praying it'd agree with my sensitive stomach.

Returning my attention to Iris, I was in complete awe of her. She was strong, resilient, and confident enough for both of us. Her inner faith was unbreakable and admirable. I wished I could reach into her soul and borrow just a sliver of it, especially for this meeting with my doctor.

Feeling the moisture running down my cheeks, I finally let out a deep breath. "Okay." I nodded. "If he tells me I'm cancer-free, we'll have a chocolate date."

"Not _if_ he tells you." Iris narrowed her eyes. " _When_ he tells you _._ "

I rolled my eyes in exasperation, knowing this was a losing battle. Iris's determination was not something to be argued with, so I laughed. "Fine! When! _When_ he tells me!"

"Attagirl." Iris grinned and lightly patted my shoulder, as if I were a delicate flower. "Now, go peel yourself out of those pajamas and put on something cheery, so we can go hear the doc's good news."

So, I did, all the while clinging to Iris's hope.

By the time Iris pulled into the hospital parking lot, I was regretting not bringing a paper bag with me. I was damn near hyperventilating, and we hadn't even walked into the doctor's office yet. My fingers were trembling, and my skin felt clammy. I was unsure of if I would pass out, have a panic attack, or cry. My emotions were getting the best of me, and I didn't like feeling so vulnerable.

Choosing a vacant space in between a minivan and a truck, Iris parked her white Honda Civic, and then she quietly withdrew her keys and slipped them into her purse. When she finally glanced at me, her eyes were tender and filled with compassion. "You ready?" she asked softly.

I adamantly shook my head back and forth. "No," I admitted truthfully. In fact, I wanted to deny how important this moment was going to be. It would decide my fate, my future. I wanted to run away and hide forever, but I could only escape the truth for so long.

"You got this, Raelyn." She set her hand atop mine and reassuringly patted me. "Today, you'll get your life back. No more chemo."

If my treatment option hadn't worked, I'd be looking at another considerable choice to make. Either I would have to do another round of chemotherapy--the thought chilled my bones and made my stomach roll--or I'd have to live out the rest of my days being ill.

As if reading my thoughts, Iris squeezed my hand. "I want you to know that, no matter what Dr. Enright says, I will be by your side, and I will support you unconditionally, Raelyn. We will make it through this--together."

_Gosh, I love this woman._

She was my rock. I'd never have survived this unwelcomed card that life had dealt me if it wasn't for Iris.

"Thank you." I smiled, choking back another round of tears.

"You're welcome." She let go of my hand and opened her door. "Now, get your ass out of the car, so we can get this over with."

I had to laugh at her abrupt mood swing. One minute, Iris could be the sweetest person someone had ever met, and the next, she would be a complete hard-ass. She was a teddy bear with a grizzly bear heart.

I exited her car, and Iris came up to me. She looped her arm through mine, and the two of us made the short walk through the parking lot to the front door of the brick building.

Once inside, the waiting room was rather quiet. Only two other people were in the office. One was a gentleman, who appeared to be in his mid-sixties, and he was reading the newspaper with his wife by his side.

As Iris went to take a seat, I passed by the aquarium and headed to the counter to greet the receptionist. With all my visits, I knew her by her first name.

"Hi, Beth. I have a nine o'clock appointment with Dr. Enright."

"Hello, Ms. Jennings," Beth greeted me with a kind smile while slipping on her black-and-gold reading glasses. She picked up a white clipboard and handed it to me over the beige countertop. "You know the drill. I just need your signature."

I signed my name and the date before giving the clipboard back to her.

"Thank you," she said, grabbing what appeared to be my chart. She opened it and scanned the first page. "Is your address, telephone number, and insurance still the same?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Great." She motioned to the row of blue chairs by the bay window where Iris was sitting patiently. "Please have a seat. Dr. Enright will be with you shortly, dear."

I joined Iris and placed my hands in my lap. To the right of two bold water paintings across the room, the clock displayed that it was ten minutes till nine.

As I waited for what felt like an eternity, my heart hammered uncontrollably in my chest, and my pulse throbbed at my temples. Nerves crept in with every passing second, and my fingers began to shake. I linked them together to stop them and inhaled a calming breath.

At five till nine, I was fiddling with the lower button of my blouse while quietly tapping my feet on the tiled floor. I itched to go up to the clock and fast-forward it to a measly five minutes before my mind went crazy.

This appointment would determine everything, my whole life, and I was powerless to alter the outcome of it. All I could think of was that I should have rested more during my chemo treatments so that my body would be at its best, I should have eaten the proper foods to make sure I would have adequate nutrition to beat this tumor, and I should have drunk a sufficient amount of water, as it was a key factor to good health and flushing out my system.

_What if I did something wrong, and I worsened my chances to survive?_

I forced myself to stifle the profound urge to cry. I didn't want to die. I desperately wanted to live.

Iris grabbed my hand and enclosed it between the two of hers, causing me to gaze up at her. "We got this," she whispered to me so that only I could hear her. "You're going to be okay, Raelyn."

I tried to let her strength seep inside my every nerve ending, including my mind and heart.

"Raelyn Jennings," Olivia, the oncologist's nurse, called from the door straight ahead of me. She was dressed in purple scrubs and clutched a manila folder in one hand.

"That's me." As I leaped to my feet, my heart plummeted to my stomach. My knees trembled so badly with every step toward the nurse.

"How are you today, Ms. Jennings?" Olivia kindly asked me once I was in the corridor with Iris on my heels.

I was always uncertain of how to respond to that particular question. Surely, honesty was the best answer, but that wouldn't be too bright of an answer. Instead, I offered, "I'm okay. Thank you."

I automatically stepped on the nearby scale, and Olivia jotted down my weight. A frown marred my features when I saw that I'd lost another three pounds. I had truly been trying my best to eat, but it had been so difficult. I didn't enjoy being scrawny and weak. I yearned to have my curves back, so I promised myself to eat a little extra at lunchtime.

The nurse proceeded to pull out a metal tab from the back of the scale to document my height. At least I had that going for me, and I never had to fight with that number.

Finished, Olivia led Iris and me into a room where she routinely checked my pulse, blood pressure, and temperature. She went to Dr. Enright's desk that was placed against the left wall and lowered herself into the plush leather chair. "Any new medications or changes you'd like for me to note for Dr. Enright?" she queried, rotating to face me.

I shook my head from side to side and told her, "No."

"All right," she replied, jotting down another note in my chart. "Any fevers?"

"Not since about three weeks ago, and I informed the doctor of it."

"Okay." Olivia smiled and rose from the small desk while closing my chart. "Dr. Enright will be here in just a few minutes."

I thanked Olivia, and then she left Iris and me alone. My legs automatically began to pace the room from the two waiting chairs to the doctor's desk to the cream-colored cot in front of me to a small sink and mirror on the far right corner of the room, only to repeat my tiny confined circle all over again. There was no soothing my anxiety. I was strung far too tight. One twitch of a muscle, and my short fuse would ignite, causing me to shoot off into the sky like a rocket. It was pure torture at its finest.

For the first time that I could remember since I'd become sick, Iris let me be, as though she knew how fragile I was. Each time I passed her, I dimly noted that she had shifted in her seat.

At last, a knock sounded on the door.

I nearly shouted, "Come in!"

Dr. Enright strolled into the room, calm and collected as ever. My gaze traveled over his face, attempting to read his royal-blue eyes, in hopes of finding the answers I so desperately needed. They revealed nothing, of course. He was a sealed vault.

He tilted his head toward Iris, causing his gray hair to shimmer beneath the overhead lighting. Looking back at me, he said, "Ms. Jennings, how are you this morning?"

I couldn't lie to him. This was Dr. Lucas Enright, the man who had to be around the age of my foster parents, and he held my future in his hands. He knew all my worst fears about this tumor--the main one, the possibility of having my life being ripped away from me. There was no reason to withhold the truth from him.

"I'm a mess," I confessed on a whoosh. My chest deflated with the sudden harsh movement, and white stars danced in my line of vision.

Dr. Enright set his hand on my arm to steady me. I blinked several times until I observed his brows were scrunched together--in understanding or maybe pity.

_Gosh, I hope that's not pity._

"Raelyn, please have a seat." He guided me toward Iris. "With my old age, I'm afraid my reaction time has slowed. If you faint, I'd hate for you to hurt yourself."

I sat down next to Iris. She linked her hand with mine as Dr. Enright pulled up his chair from my left and positioned himself right in front of me.

I stopped breathing. _This is it --the moment I've been waiting for._

"Raelyn"--Dr. Enright let out a breath and smiled softly--"I'm not going to go into in-depth medical details that you might not understand. Hell, some of it I don't even understand, as it clearly goes against science." His tone was full of wonder.

"Just tell me," I cried unevenly, locking eyes with the doctor before holding my breath once again.

"I'm delighted to say that you're in remission, Raelyn. There will be no need to continue another phase of chemotherapy."

Iris shot forward in her chair, making it squeak against the white tiled floor. "Oh my God," she wept with a death grip on my hand.

The room began to spin as my vision blurred. Ten thousand emotions seized me and held me captive. That short emotional fuse I'd been worried about was now lit.

"What?" I asked Dr. Enright, my voice splintering along with my heart at the possibility of his words being true. I was certain I had misunderstood him. "But...but you told me that my chances of survival were"--I blinked several times, but I stood no chance against the rush of tears--"minimal."

"They were," the doctor stated softly, shaking his head in awe. "I can't really even explain it myself. As I said, the nature of your specific type of glioma tumor was extremely aggressive, and for it to respond to chemotherapy goes against science. My hopes were to give you more time, knowing the odds of a complete recovery would be slim to none. Today, I sit before you as a proud man to be proven wrong." He revealed a genuine smile and handed me my most recent scan. "Your MRI is clear. You are in complete remission, Raelyn. You are cancer-free."

Riveted in silence, I glanced down at the MRI. The mass I recalled seeing on the original scan was indeed gone. By some miracle, it had vanished with my treatments.

"I'm--" I broke off and inhaled a fresh breath of air. "I'm cured?"

"Yes." Dr. Enright beamed at me. Within seconds, his expression sobered. "But, Raelyn, I need you to understand that, more often than not, tumors such as yours have a high chance of redeveloping at some point in time. With that said, there is little knowledge of how long you will remain in remission."

My throat swelled. I swallowed thickly at this new information while nodding. "I understand."

Dr. Enright placed his hand on mine. His eyes filled with compassion as he said, "I will still need to monitor you closely, and we will need to repeat an MRI every three months."

"Okay."

"Congratulations, Ms. Jennings." Dr. Enright slightly lifted his hand and offered a handshake. "You are a free woman."

I slipped my palm into his, overtaken by the emotions brewing inside me.

_I'm free...but for how long?_

#

## Six Months Later

As I walked through the front doors of Adam & Jennings Accounting Services, I reveled in the feeling of the early morning slight breeze as it blew my sandy-blonde hair across my face.

To most, it would be considered a nuisance but not to me. My hair--my _real_ hair--was actually growing. It finally bounced with my strides and was even long enough to curl the ends, which made me feel like a whole new woman in so many ways.

It was such a simple thing in life, yet to a cancer survivor, it was so much more. I'd been blessed to inhale the fresh air surrounding me for another day. I was alive.

I had three clear MRIs under my belt, and while I still feared the unknown of when my tumor might reappear out of thin air, I was determined to live life to its fullest. I wanted to have a thriving career, buy a tiny house on a prairie and decorate it with my own personal touch, and travel the world to see new places. Maybe someday, I'd even brave getting a tattoo.

"Hi, Raelyn!" Tim Beckett scurried after me.

En route to my office at the far end of the building, I waved at Kate and Liz. "Hey, Tim." I smiled kindly at my personal assistant of five and a half months. "How are you this morning?" I queried, setting my briefcase down on my desk.

Tim had replaced Joe Hinesburg. Joe was my first assistant who had been with me for three years until he'd politely resigned when I fell ill. I completely understood his reason for leaving Adam & Jennings Accounting Services though. In my absence, there was no other place for Joe to move within the company, and he had a family to provide for. The two of us had parted on good terms, and I'd even written a letter of recommendation for him, so he could find another reputable job in the field.

"Never better," Tim replied with a wink, approaching the side of my desk with a brown disposable cup in his grasp. I could feel his eyes on me with each step. "I brought you your favorite coffee with cream and one sugar." He grinned. "Just like you like it."

I gently took the cup from him. With him standing so close, I had to tip my head up to meet his gaze. The man was a staggering six feet two against my petite five-four frame.

"That's very thoughtful of you, Tim." I smiled. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." A shy smile spread across his thin lips, and his brown eyes shimmered a little too much.

It made my belly coil with anxiety. I was hoping Tim wouldn't start our jam-packed morning with the one question that would make me want to run ninety miles in the opposite direction of him--or any man, for that matter.

Right on cue, Tim asked, "I know it's a workday and all, but I was hoping we could maybe have a bite to eat at that little café around the corner, if there is time for a lunch break today?"

My chest constricted around the walls of my heart, and my attention drifted to everywhere in the room but the man standing in front of me.

There was only one thing I'd absolutely denied myself since I was given a second chance at life, and that was falling in love. Love was a fantasy. I'd learned my lesson in the worst possible way. I'd been left alone, nearly on my deathbed, to battle for my next breath by a man who was supposed to love me until the end of our days, in health _and_ sickness.

My stomach twisted painfully. That hadn't happened though.

There was something to be said about being a survivor. With a wound that had broken the flesh came a rough dark scab. It was considered the first stage of healing. A deeper incision of the skin was guaranteed to leave a scar in its place, especially when it was inflicted upon the heart. Instead of letting mine heal on its own, I'd stamped an armor made of impenetrable steel over it. That way, the armor would firmly seal over my heart, and they would fuse together, creating a bond stronger than any glue. This method would ensure my survival and save me from the possibility of ever allowing myself to be wounded again. It was a win-win all around.

I met Tim's disappointed stare, feeling the sudden unease in the room at my extended silence. I swallowed thickly. "I'm sorry, Tim. I can't..." I began. My voice was light and sincere, hoping he wouldn't take my words the wrong way.

Tim was just trying to be nice, and he _was_ a nice guy, but I knew where this conversation was leading.

"I know, I know. Not a date. Just work stuff," he rambled nervously, tucking his hands into the front pockets of his gray-and-white pinstriped suit. His embarrassment didn't go undetected by me as he continued, "I thought we could take Heathman's file with us and review some numbers for your appointment with Damien at one this afternoon."

I couldn't help but feel that Tim was changing his tactics, using work as his main reason to spend extra time with me, but I was quickly distracted. Just hearing the name Damien Heathman made my nerves spike into overdrive.

Heathman Enterprises was a huge account that my partner, Cale Adam, usually handled. However, Cale wanted to land another great opportunity with Bryson Hendricks, who had recently been shopping for a respectable accounting firm, so Cale planned to pass Heathman Enterprises over to me.

I pushed my anxiety aside, knowing I was beyond ready for this appointment. I'd studied Heathman's file for the past two months, and I knew it like the back of my hand.

I politely told Tim, "I will block thirty minutes in my schedule late this morning, so we can look over the numbers together." I nervously pointed to my desk and clarified, "Here. In the office. Say, eleven o'clock?"

"Sounds great." Tim headed for the door. With his hand on the wooden frame, he softly smiled back at me. "See you soon."

I emptied the rush of air I hadn't realized I'd been holding, thankful I'd dodged a bullet. Now, it was time to get to work.

At my desk, I was knee-deep in finishing up some paperwork as Cale breezed into my office at half past ten.

Tearing my gaze away from my task at hand, I saw Cale's vibrant green eyes lock on mine as he continued forward with his usual sense of superiority and mischief.

"Hey, Rae." Cale smiled casually.

I quirked a brow at my business partner and longtime friend as he sat in the brown leather chair across from me. "Raelyn," I corrected him for the millionth time.

Placing his hands behind his head, he leaned back in the seat and shot me his famous teasing smirk. "But that's a mouthful. Rae is only one syllable."

I was so glad to see him in a good mood. It was a rare sight these days. Still, I couldn't help but playfully narrow my eyes at him. "Because two syllables are so much harder to say?"

He snapped his fingers and then pointed at me. "You got it."

I rolled my eyes, knowing I'd never win this battle with him. Cale had been calling me Rae since college, only doing so to grate on my nerves, like a big brother would pick on his little sister. It was annoying and frustrating, to say the least.

I picked up a random piece of scratch paper on my desk, wadded it into a ball, and chucked it, aiming for his pretty boy face. "Is there a reason you are here to see me? Some of us have work to do."

Laughing, he caught it in his hands in the nick of time. The rapid movement caused a loose strand of hair to flop forward on his forehead. "You mean, other than to bother you? No."

Before I could figure out what to toss at him next, Cale added, "I just stopped in to see if you were ready for your meeting with Damien Heathman." His expression softened. "I know how nervous you get before you meet with clients."

Another bad thing about close friends was that they knew your weak spots. I, for one, was a catastrophe waiting to happen when it came to presentations and public speaking. No matter how much I practiced and memorized my speech, I'd always clam up, and my mind would go blank. I was hopeless.

That didn't mean I would ever acknowledge my weakness aloud, so I feigned complete nonchalance and squared my shoulders. "I'm not nervous," I stated on a fib. "I've read Heathman's file at least twenty times, front to back, so this should be a walk in the park."

"I'm glad to hear it." Cale lifted his hand and tossed the wad of scrap paper in the trash can at the right of my desk. "Damien is an outstanding guy. I don't foresee him giving you any trouble--as long as you know your numbers."

"That's a relief," I replied, knowing I could always trust Cale to be honest with me.

Plus, he and Damien were friends outside of work, so my partner's admission put me at ease.

"All right." Cale rose from his position and stood before me. "I have an appointment with Wittman and Sons Law Firm at twelve sharp. I expect to be back in time to sit in on your meeting with Damien, but I want you to go ahead and start without me if I run a few minutes late."

My heart fell with the weight of Cale's words related to his ongoing heartache over his unexpected divorce from Sage. Of all the people who I'd thought would be married for the long haul, it was the two of them. They'd been the perfect couple all through college and exchanged vows shortly after we'd graduated.

"Are you okay, Cale?" I asked, unsure of what else to say. Then, I silently chided myself for my stupid question. Of course he wasn't okay. I quickly recovered with, "I mean, is there anything I can do for you?"

A dozen emotions skirted across his features. The grief and regret were apparent in his eyes, and I hurt for him.

"No, thanks." He smiled sadly. "Don't worry. I'll be okay soon."

"I'm sorry." I squeezed my hands together in my lap, wishing I could give him a hug.

Cale wasn't a hugging kind of guy though. He rarely showed his feelings, and when he did, he would be a ticking time bomb with a short fuse. I didn't want to be the one to set him off.

"Don't be." He sighed, hiding the pain in his eyes. "It took me a long time to realize that Sage and I were never meant to be husband and wife." He tucked his right hand into the front pocket of his suit and shrugged. "Separating is the best thing for the both of us. I don't want to be the one to drag her down."

Confused, I wanted to ask him to elaborate.

Before I had a chance to respond, Cale opened the door and said, "See you later, Rae. Good luck."

I frowned at my door. Something had been off with him lately. I only wished I had the slightest clue as to what that might be.

After my rundown over Heathman's account with Tim, I felt confident and prepared. Gathering all my necessary documents, I stacked them into a neat pile on the corner of my desk. It was twenty till one, but I wanted to be extra early to my meeting, so I could be in the room first to help keep my nerves at bay.

My head whipped up at the sound of a light tapping on the door.

"Come in."

"Hey, Raelyn." Kate, our secretary, popped her head into my office and smiled. "Mr. Heathman, your one o'clock appointment, is here. Would you like me to take him to the conference room, or should I seat him in the waiting room?" she asked, shooting my whole plan to shit.

I let out a deep breath. _There goes having the upper hand of being the first person in the room._

Surely, men like Damien Heathman, who was our top-paying client, were never seated in a waiting room, so I told her, "No, that's all right, Kate. Please show him to conference room A, and tell him I'll be with him in just a moment."

"Of course. Good luck." She winked.

All I could do was nod as Kate shut the door. Once alone, my breathing began to accelerate, but I tried to remind myself to remain calm. After all, Heathman Enterprises was already a secured account with Adam & Jennings Accounting Services. I was merely showing Damien that he was being transferred to capable hands.

With my self-assurance firmly tucked back into place, I lifted my files and tightly clutched them to my chest. I walked to the door where I opened it with clammy fingers. My pulse hammered unsteadily with every step down the narrow hallway en route to my destination. I focused my attention on the elegant water paintings that Cale and I had collected in an effort to spruce up our office.

Tim was waiting for me outside the conference room with the wooden door still closed. He leaned his tall, slender body toward mine. "You ready?" he asked with a grin.

"Yes, of course," I said, feeling anything but.

His eyes searched mine with worry. "Would you like me to sit in on this with you until Cale arrives?"

Disappointment rolled through me at learning that my wingman was still amiss, but I quickly squashed it like a small bug. It was just me and the numbers. They were facts--consistent, reliable, and truthful. There was no room to doubt them. I could do this.

"No." I shook my head adamantly and reiterated, "I _can_ do this." The latter was more reassurance for myself than for Tim.

I'd just have to follow Cale's advice that he always used when he felt intimidated by powerful clients that our company depended on. I'd search Damien for some kind of flaw visible to the eye. Maybe I'd get lucky, and he'd have a ketchup or mustard stain on his shirt for me to stare at, a large bald spot on top of his head, or a big red pimple on his crooked nose that I could focus on. I just needed one minor imperfection to zone in on.

"Yes, you can." Tim set his hand on my shoulder and gently squeezed it. "Go get 'em, tiger."

"Thanks." I laughed nervously. 

#

After Tim opened the conference room door for me, I casually strolled inside where I came to an abrupt halt at the sight of the man across the room. Damien Heathman was standing in front of a long, narrow window with his right forearm resting on the side of the wooden trim, slightly above his head, with his torso facing me. The door closing behind me sounded at my back, but my attention was focused solely in front of me.

"Oh God," __ I breathed out in a whisper. My heart crashed against my breastbone at a dangerous speed, momentarily shaking my armor out of place, as I drank in the sight of Damien Heathman.

His dark brown hair shone in the natural lighting beaming in through the glass, nearly making him glow. His shoulders and arms filled out every perfect inch of his black suit in all the right ways and narrowed in at his waist. His posture radiated strength and confidence that was palpable in the room.

As I desperately tried to fortify the steel armor around my heart once again, Damien turned to face me, and a pair of shielded gray eyes met mine. They were so dark, troubled, and completely guarded that it was as if he were concealing himself from the world...and me. As his eyes effectively wrecked me with their intensity, my breath was knocked clear out of my lungs.

Over the course of the next several beats, time appeared to suspend as our gazes remained locked on one another, green against gray, taking each other in, him assessing me and me gauging him. I was rendered speechless, completely riveted and captured by his powerful stare.

When he finally made the first step toward me around the rectangular oak table in the center of the oblong room, my natural instinct to run slammed into me, begging me to get as far away from this man as possible, yet my feet remained unresponsive to my mind screaming at me to take flight. Somehow, I knew he would be hazardous to my heart.

I tightly clutched my files to my chest like they were my lifeline, yet it didn't stop my pulse from hammering and pounding wickedly in my veins. I wanted to break our connection, but I wouldn't dare look away from those penetrating gray eyes that were still holding me as he continued to close the distance between us.

I was a quivering mess, not him though. No, Damien continued straight for me with deliberate, purposeful strides. Each one seemed like an electrical spark to my heart, as if trying to bring it to life, and my body felt hot, really hot.

He neared with confidence, and my impulse to flee grew stronger, as did my unexplainable resistance to leave the confined space.

My mind continued to refute back and forth over its internal struggle until Damien came to a stop in front of me, and I was forced to take in the full impact of his stunning features. His strong cheekbones led to a square jaw, and his muscular, tall body towered over my petite frame.

_Oh, sweet Jesus_. I drew in a shaky breath.

He was utter perfection.

As his gaze slowly traveled all over my face, lingering here and there, the hard edges of his own seemed to soften...or maybe they were just replaced with curiosity at my peculiar reaction to him--which of the two, I was unsure.

When he outstretched his hand between us, I had no choice but to look straight into those powerful grays again.

"Raelyn Jennings?" His voice was low and alluring.

I was embarrassed by my lack of manners to introduce myself first, but my brain couldn't string together two words for the life of me.

"Yes," I replied breathlessly, attempting to hide my bundle of nerves and how he'd deeply affected me. "Damien Heathman, I presume?" I gingerly set my hand in his.

The shocking current I'd felt at the sight of him was nothing compared to his touch, and I jolted back from the connection.

In a feeble attempt to sidetrack myself and regain my composure, I frantically let my gaze roam up and down him, searching for a nasty blemish on his devastatingly handsome tanned skin or a gigantic stain on the front of his black suit paired with a collared white shirt and black-and-gray tie.

_God, where is your mustard or ketchup or ranch stain?_ _I need something! He has to have at least one flaw visible to the eye!_

Damien cleared his throat and laughed. "Excuse me?"

My entire body went rigid, practically seizing with fright. _No. No. I couldn't have possibly said that aloud._

A warm thumb and index finger gently clasped the bottom of my chin and lifted it until I had no other choice than to look at those gray eyes that rendered me speechless and stupid.

Damien tilted his head to the side, thoughtfully perusing me. "I didn't have mustard or ketchup or ranch for lunch," he stated, confirming my worst fear, before arching a curious brow. "Is this how you greet all your clients?"

Appalled by his question and my lack of professionalism, I gaped at him while my armor clamped back into place. "No, of course not!" I sputtered as my body temperature rose a few degrees against my will.

The corner of his lip twitched, revealing a semblance of a smile. The faint movement created a slight dimple at the side of his full lips. "Just me then?" He grinned, his eyes pulling me further into a flustered state of haze.

"Never." I laughed to mask my embarrassment.

"Interesting." He thrummed gruffly from the back of his throat as his thumb trailed down my neck, sending waves of heat scorching in its path. "And this?" he stated, no doubt referring to the reddened flesh of my skin. "That's not normal either?"

Now, I was just pissed--not only at his brazenness, but also at my stupid reaction to a man I didn't even know. Without a single thought, I slapped his hand away, the sound reverberating throughout the closed room.

"No," I stated harshly. "And how ungallant and egotistical of you to point it out." At his stunned expression, I tried to recover myself. "This building is rather hot and humid in the summer months."

"Indeed." He grinned mischievously. The look appeared to lighten the shield around his eyes, softening them.

Dismissing his comment, I gestured to the conference table to get us back on track. "Please have a seat, Mr. Heathman, so we can begin our meeting."

Without giving him a chance to respond, I skirted around him, careful to make sure our bodies didn't brush along one another. Here I was, falling face-first at this rude but gorgeous man when I had a job to do.

_Well, no more._

My nude pumps clinked against the tiled floor as I went to the head of the table. I sat down and opened my folder, so I could organize my notes. Luckily, I knew my presentation well, but I still wanted to have them in the proper order.

I was briefly surprised when Damien unbuttoned his jacket and seated himself in the first chair at my right side. It was entirely too close for my liking, but I quickly regained my composure.

Once I was ready, I glanced over at Damien, who had been waiting patiently for me. I wanted to start our meeting out strong, so I kindly said, "So, Mr. Heathman, I presume Cale has informed you that I'll be taking over your accounting needs from here on out."

His brows lifted at my confidence, and he retorted, "Actually, I believe I'm here for you to prove that you're _worthy_ of such a valued position." He sat forward in his seat. His tall torso towered over me, giving me the impression that he was sizing me up. "I take my business seriously, Ms. Jennings. When it comes to placing my company's finances in someone else's hands, I expect nothing less than complete honesty and perfection in return."

"I absolutely agree, and that's exactly what Adam and Jennings Accounting Services intends on continuing to give you." I acknowledged him with a tilt of my head.

Clearly, Damien Heathman played hardball.

I handed him a few sets of copies of my numbers that I'd made for him. "I already took the liberty of thoroughly familiarizing myself with your accounts, and I have some great ideas to present you with."

"Good," he replied, grabbing the papers to look them over. "Let's hear your best pitch then, Ms. Jennings." He leaned back in his chair and grinned. "I'm all yours."

He definitely was not _mine,_ but I was more focused on clearing the other misconception at hand, so I told him, "Mr. Heathman, let's just get one thing straight before I begin. I have no intention of pitching you anything. To me, it relays a fabricated speech with room for uncertainty and broken promises. I will give you nothing less than you deserve, which is showing you the numbers and facts because they never lie. Then, you'll have every possible scenario in front of you to determine the future of your businesses."

I thought I saw a sliver of admiration in his eyes before they went unreadable. It gave me just the right amount of courage to go full speed ahead. I dived deep into each and every one of Damien's companies, reviewing their expenses, where cuts could be taken, profit margins, and areas for improvement. I explained where a healthy calculated risk could be afforded and other areas that needed growth to increase revenue first. Then, I gave him the total numbers of all his companies together.

Cale quietly entered the room somewhere in the middle of my presentation. I momentarily faltered as Damien's demeanor shifted, and he narrowed in on my partner. Cale seemed oblivious to Damien's peculiar assessment though. When Damien returned his attention to me, I quickly shoved the thought aside and recovered flawlessly, knowing I had a job to do.

All the while, Damien came at me left and right with solid questions. I was proud of myself for being able to answer all of them. My preparation had paid off, no doubt. I instantly admired Damien for keeping up on his companies as well as having a professional accounting service as a second opinion. I personally knew firsthand that one could never be too safe. Whether someone was in charge of billions or just a few hundred, they needed to account for every hard-earned penny, and Damien didn't fall short on his involvement.

When I finally finished, I was nearly out of breath.

Regarding me, Damien sat quietly in his chair and stroked his thumb back and forth across his pen until he finally softly said, "I have to admit, you're not what I expected."

At my left, Cale leaned forward and linked his fingers together with a broad smile on his face. "See?" He smirked at Damien. "I told you, no one is more thorough than Jennings." He pointed at the north end of the building. "Her name is on the front of my office for a reason. Raelyn is one of the best."

I ignored the urge to correct Cale and say _our_ building since our partnership was fifty-fifty, but I refrained. It was probably an honest mistake, and I was too eager to hear Damien's thoughts. Plus, I was confused as to why the whole time Cale had spoken, Damien had kept his attention on me without a single glance at Cale. It was rather unnerving. My instincts told me there was some kind of unspoken animosity between Cale and Damien, and I was clearly out of the loop. I swallowed thickly, suddenly feeling uncomfortable at my discovery.

Damien distracted my reservations by lifting his hand to run it back and forth along the base of his chin, intently observing me. "You're very good at your job. I'm quite impressed."

"Thank you," I replied. Gathering my paperwork, I gave him my most valued motto, "Numbers never lie."

"They don't," he agreed with a tilt of his head. Then, his eyes went black, and his jaw twitched. "Or they're not supposed to."

I was about to ask what he meant when Cale leaped to his feet. The movement sent his chair flying backward. "Well, spectacular job, Rae." He clapped his hands together. "I'll expect an update on Mr. Heathman's file on my desk each month."

Damien shot Cale a cold stare. "That won't be necessary. I believe Ms. Jennings is fully capable of taking over my accounts from here on out."

Cale shifted on his feet, making me frown in confusion. Yes, something was definitely going on between these two, and suddenly, I didn't want to find myself wedged in the middle of it. I'd have to voice my concerns to Cale later when we were alone.

"Very well then." Cale cleared his throat and faced me. "Be in my office in ten."

The atmosphere instantly went tense. I didn't need to look at Damien to confirm the animosity pouring out of him. I could _feel_ it.

I decided to be the go-between just once. "All right," I told my partner. Then, I gave my full attention to Damien. "Let me see you out, Mr. Heathman."

I advanced toward Damien while gesturing at the door. "Right this way."

Seconds felt like hours before Damien tore his gaze away from Cale and peered down at me. His eyes were fully guarded and distant, but his head nodded subtly.

Together, Damien and I ambled out of the room. All the while, I felt Cale's heated eyes on my back. I had no idea what in the hell was going on, but I intended to find out.

Once Damien and I reached the front doors of the building, Damien opened it and spoke softly, "Walk me to my car?"

I wanted to say no. I really did, yet for some reason, I found myself nodding my head in agreement and crossing over the threshold.

I squinted at the bright light that assaulted my line of vision until my eyes adjusted. The tinge of humidity in the air did nothing to ease my irritation. My mind was scattered. I had so many questions for Cale, and nothing would help my qualms until I had answers.

Damien and I crossed the parking lot and came to a stop in front of a shiny black Mitsubishi R8 with matching rims that had a hint of chrome around the edges. It was sleek and sporty.

"Wow," I murmured in awe.

Damien's eyes were on me. "Do you have a thing for cars, Ms. Jennings?"

"Oh, yeah." I bit my lip, imagining what it would feel like to slide down the plush leather seat and take it for a spin. "And this one's a beauty."

His eyes glowed with mischief, almost as if his gray irises shimmered with sparkling silver. "Glad you think so."

He grinned devilishly. The look was so unreserved and strikingly hot that it nearly knocked me off my feet.

Before I could connect my brain and body together, Damien asked, "Do you have your phone with you?"

"Yes."

He outstretched his hand between us. "Can I see it?"

"Sure," I answered without a second thought. I reached into the pocket on the front of my plum-colored knee-length skirt to hand my iPhone to him. "Wait. Why?" I asked, baffled, as I tried to snatch it back.

Damien dodged my efforts and tapped his fingers against the touch screen. "A great accountant should always keep in touch with her clients, and vice versa."

The quick change of topic back to work had my nerves resurfacing. I felt like I was on a roller coaster, getting whiplash.

"Damien, wait," I repeated, gently setting my hand on his.

His movements stopped, and he looked down at me.

Again, that same spark of electricity ricocheted throughout my body. It was stronger this time. But what captivated me the most was how Damien's irises flickered with light. They almost mirrored the way I felt inside when we touched. His eyes were stunning. He was stunning.

Gasping, I yanked my hand away, as if I had been electrocuted.

He opened his mouth to speak, and then he closed it and shook his head from side to side in wonder. I didn't need to ask what he was about to say because we had both been on the receiving end of something inexplicable.

I needed to get out of here. It was now or never, and it _had_ to be now.

Cautiously, I extended my hand to him. "I must get back to work. Can I have my phone back?"

He drew his brows together. "Raelyn?" he said my name, as if in question.

"I have to go." I folded my fingers into my palm and out again in a flicking motion. "Please?"

"Okay."

He handed it to me, and I tucked it into my pocket.

I had to end whatever this was that was transpiring between us. He deserved the truth.

So, I took a small step away from him and let out a deep breath. "I'm not sure I can be your accountant."

Shock flitted across his face before he quickly recovered. "Why not?"

I shook my head and put more space between us, so I could think more clearly. "There is obviously something going on between you and Cale, and I don't want to get in the middle of it."

He considerately looked at me and seemed to silently deliberate on something before he asked, "Did Cale say that?"

"No, but I'm not blind." I unleashed a humorless laugh. "I could feel it back there in the conference room. Whatever issue you have with my partner, you need to work it out with him."

"I don't have a problem with Cale," he deadpanned.

"And I don't believe in bullshit," I tossed back.

He narrowed his eyes, challenging me. "Neither do I."

"Good," I said, relieved, as Damien said at the same time, "But if it's thrown at me, you'd better believe I will fire it right back."

"I haven't the slightest clue as to what you're talking about," I said defensively. "But I hope you'll understand that's why I have to walk away from your account. I'm sure Cale will be happy to assist you."

"That's not an option."

He closed the gap between us, and my breath quickened. That palpable energy returned between us.

I willed my body to appear indifferent to his proximity, but even I could hear the change in my breathing as he murmured, "Our meeting changed everything, Raelyn. It's too late for me to walk away, and we need to talk. Have dinner with me tonight."

"Are you crazy?" I gawked at him and nearly tripped over my feet in an effort to get away from him.

"Absolutely not."

"I'm busy," I replied with a straight face. I wouldn't be going anywhere with him.

"Then, tomorrow night."

"I have plans."

Damien lifted his hand and tucked a loose strand of my hair behind my ear. It made my heart pound erratically in my chest.

"You're not going to win this argument, Raelyn." A small smile played at his lips. "I'm a man who goes after what he wants, and I always fight to get my way."

I withdrew from his touch and arched a mischievous brow at him. "Is that so?"

"Undoubtedly." He lowered his arm.

Wanting to knock his ego down a notch, I closed the small gap between us and leaned into him. It took everything I had to ignore his manly fresh scent that threatened to overwhelm my senses as I said, "Then, I suggest you find another accountant who excels with numbers and is willing to spread her legs because that's _never_ going to happen with me." I smiled and spun on my heels without a backward glance. "Good-bye, Damien."

I made it all the way inside my office before my phone beeped in my pocket. Against my better judgment, I pulled it out and read the text message.

Damien: Tomorrow, Raelyn. I'll pick you up at 8 p.m. Trust me. You'll want to hear what I have to say. You said it yourself. Numbers never lie.

Refusing to give him the satisfaction of responding, I hastily set my phone down on my desk. I found comfort in knowing that I wouldn't be at work at that hour of night, and Damien didn't know where I lived. It looked like the odds were in my favor, yet my gut knotted itself within my stomach at the last sentence of his text message, wondering what he could possibly have to say to me.

_No, numbers don't lie. But does Damien? And why do I have the feeling Cale is tangled right in the center of this web?_

A knock sounded at my door, pulling me out of my head. I jumped and shouted, "Come in!"

Cale breezed into my office. He paused next to the chair across from my desk. "Did everything go well with your meeting with Damien?"

I gave him a peculiar look. "Cale, you were right there with me. Since you know him better than I do, shouldn't I be asking you that?"

"You know what I mean." He chuckled and nonchalantly waved a hand at me. "When you went outside, did he tell you he'd let you take over his accounts?"

"He did--"

"That's great!" Cale clapped loudly.

I dreaded my upcoming conversation with my partner, but I needed to clear the air.

"I declined accepting his account," I exhaled.

Eyes wide, Cale threw his hands up to the sides of his face and ran his fingers through his hair with his mouth hanging open. "You what?" he exclaimed. "He's our top client, Raelyn. Why did you decline?"

"He's _your_ client, Cale," I stated evenly, "and it needs to stay that way."

His head jerked back on his shoulders. "Where is this coming from? What did Damien say to you outside?"

"He didn't say anything to me."

"Then, why did you refuse to work with him?"

"I don't know," I murmured with a shrug of my shoulders, suddenly unsure of myself. Whatever was going on between Damien and Cale had to be about more than Cale's former excuse of trying to secure Bryson Hendricks's account, so I added, "It felt like the two of you had unfinished business, and I didn't want to be caught up in it."

Cale frowned. "Why would you think that?"

"I just did." I crossed my hands in front of myself and fiddled with my fingers. "You both seemed uncomfortable in the conference room."

Cale unleashed a deep breath and stepped forward. "I can assure you that it's nothing, Raelyn."

"It didn't feel that way," I admitted to my partner and friend.

"Damien is..." Cale trailed off for a moment and looped his thumbs into the front pockets of his slacks, appearing sad. "A complicated man. He was one of my closest friends...until he sided with Sage in our divorce."

"Oh." I wanted to ask why Damien had done that to Cale if they were friends, but it was none of my business, and I wasn't someone who pried. It still didn't make me feel comfortable to take on Damien as a client. In fact, it made me more hesitant.

"You're still not going to represent Damien, are you?" Cale queried, as if reading my mind.

"No." I smiled apologetically. "It doesn't feel like the right thing to do."

He released a long sigh. "Okay. I'll talk to him tomorrow and see if we can work out our differences."

"Thank you," I said, relieved, yet wondering what Cale meant by his and Damien's differences.

Cale acknowledged me with a short nod and walked out of my office. All the while, I didn't feel like I'd gained any closure on the subject at hand.

No, I had a feeling this was just the beginning of Damien Heathman. 

#

By noon, I'd given myself a nasty paper cut, spilled coffee on my blouse, and had an excruciatingly painful headache that refused to budge. It was not my day, to say the least.

On my way back from the break room, I prayed coffee cup number two would help ease the profuse throbbing at my temples as I rounded the corner en route to my office where I nearly collided with Kate.

"Whoa! Careful there." Kate jumped back on a squeal and defensively held her hands in front of herself. "I was just on my way to find you, but I don't want to get burned." She laughed teasingly.

I steadied the mug of hot liquid in my hand. "I'm so sorry, Kate!" I offered sincerely. I lifted my opposing hand to rub my temple from her loud shriek.

Kate set her hand on my arm and assessed my facial features with a worried expression. "Hey, are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Thank you." I smiled. "You were looking for me?"

"Oh, yes!" She handed a yellow stationery note to me. "Mr. Heathman is on hold on line two for you."

I grabbed the paper and released a troubled sigh. Apparently, Damien Heathman was not going to be easy to get rid of, as I'd previously hoped.

"Can you tell him I'm busy and take a message?" I asked as the two of us began a leisurely pace toward my office, passing the four cubicles that lined the west wall.

Kate laughed under her breath and gave me a humorous look. "He said you might say that, and he told me to tell you that it's urgent."

With a shake of my head, I rolled my eyes in exasperation. Of course, Damien Heathman would think his phone call was urgent, and he wasn't going to make avoiding him easy on me.

"I promise you, it's not," I told her. "Please take a message and forward it to Cale."

"I sure will, Ms. Jennings. He will be out of the office all afternoon, but I will make sure he sees it first thing in the morning."

"Oh." I thoughtfully raised my brows, having had no idea that Cale was going to be missing this afternoon. I must have spaced that detail with being off-kilter today.

"Anything I can get for you before I head out for lunch?" Kate asked kindly. We arrived at my office where Kate leaned against the doorjamb and grinned. "I'm meeting Noah at Jason's Deli for sandwiches."

Noah was her boyfriend of two years. They'd just recently moved in together.

"No, thank you." I mirrored her expression. "But you two have fun."

"Always." She winked. "I'll be back in an hour."

Once Kate was gone, I strolled into my office where I shut the door behind me and went to sit at my desk. Reclining back in my chair, I closed my eyes in hopes that it would give me some sort of relief from the intense pressure in my head. I hadn't had a headache like this since I was sick. A headache and light dizziness were where it had all begun with my tumor. And just the thought of having one now nearly made my body run cold with unimaginable fear.

I tried to remind myself that normal healthy people had headaches all the time, and that was all this was. I was fine. There was no need to freak out over a simple headache that was challenging my workday.

Rolling on the wheels of my chair, I scooted to the side of my desk to grab my lunch tote where I pulled out my ham sandwich and removed it from the clear Ziploc bag. It wasn't the healthiest of meals, but I'd included an apple, banana, and water in hopes that my other three choices would make up for the processed meat and cheese.

My phone vibrated and rattled against my oak desk as I took a bite of my sandwich. I retrieved it and saw I had a new text message.

Damien: You can't ignore me forever.

I wanted to laugh, but my head hurt too badly, and I was irritated that he'd programmed his name and number into my cell. I couldn't resist the urge to text him back while chewing my food.

Me: Oh, yes, I can.

Maybe my comeback was a bit harsh, but my headache was clearly ruling me today. Plus, I wouldn't tolerate his persistence.

His incoming response was quick.

Damien: I'll let you ignore me for another eight hours, and that's only because I'm busy with meetings all afternoon. Then, you're all mine.

_Oh, he is definitely crazy...and delusional_.

When I felt better, I had every intention of giving this man a piece of my mind. For now, I'd have to put him straight with just a text.

Me: I belong to NO ONE, and I never will.

_There. I told him_. I grinned to myself as I swapped what was left of my sandwich for the apple.

Damien: We'll see.

I practically choked on my food. This man was out of his mind. I glared at my screen as my fingers rapidly moved across it.

Me: Trust me. You won't. I have a massive headache from hell, so please go away. Call Cale, so you guys can work things out.

Damien: Never underestimate my determination. Migraine?

_Oh, the man is going to make me crazy._

Me: Yes. PLEASE CALL CALE. Good-bye, Damien.

I honestly hadn't intended on being so rude toward him, but I was that desperate for him to leave me alone. I liked to believe I lived my life in a small bubble, one where no one could hurt me again--not even a powerful, sexy CEO.

After lunch, I dived into the first file on my desk and started analyzing numbers with a fresh spreadsheet on my computer screen. It was a large account with a new client, Asher Montana. He was the owner of a new food chain, and he planned to open his sixth location by fall. It was my job to assess his assets and determine if his franchise was ready for another expansion.

Asher's profit margins were impeccable. His costs were low, and he gave his costumers a great product for their buck.

My headache was making it difficult to work, but I refused to be deterred from my task at hand as I double-checked the totals of each food chain.

A knock sounded at my door, grabbing my attention. I lifted my head and said, "Come in."

Kate strolled into the room with her heels lightly tapping against the hardwood floors. A cheery expression beamed across her slightly round face.

My eyes quickly settled on the large bouquet of white calla lilies in the cream-colored vase in her hands as she informed me, "I have a delivery for you."

"Uh..." I trailed off, stunned into silence.

Kate came to set the arrangement down in between the stacks of files on my desk.

"They're beautiful," Kate said in awe. Her eyes sparkled as she appeared to be gauging me.

I had no words.

"Aren't you going to open the card?"

I let my eyes sweep over the flowers again, noting a small white envelope clipped on a clear plastic stick in the center. My eyes widened slightly at seeing my name neatly printed in what could only be a man's handwriting. A nervous breath escaped my lungs as I instinctively knew whom it was from.

With shaky fingers, I reached forward for the envelope and slowly opened it. The crinkling noise of a package caught me by surprise. It was a single dosage of Excedrin Migraine. I set it down on my desk before retrieving the note card.

I HOPE THIS MAKES YOUR DAY BETTER.

LOOKING FORWARD TO TONIGHT.

DAMIEN

I grinned like an idiot and read the card a second and then a third time, completely touched by his gesture. No one had ever bought me flowers before--not even Nick, my ex-fiancé.

"So," Kate said in a delighted purr, breaking into my daydream, "are you going to tell me the story here with the sexy Mr. Heathman, or should I just make up my own?"

I smiled softly at the card once more before realizing that Damien's gesture didn't make a difference in my beliefs. There would be no dating in my future. Sometimes, the truth hurt, but I had no interest in subjecting myself to another inevitable heartbreak. I'd learned my lesson in the hardest of ways by being left alone in the most trying time of my life. It was almost more painful than the chemo itself, and I had no desire to ever feel such agonizing heartache again.

"There's no story," I murmured, staring at Damien's signature one last time before neatly tucking the note back into the envelope.

Kate snorted, "Uh-huh. That's what every girl says right before a man comes in and sweeps her off her feet."

Maybe that sentiment was true for some women, but it wasn't the case for the rest of us. Apprehending Kate was happily head over heels in love, I kept that tidbit to myself and lightly quipped, "You watch too many romantic movies, Kate."

"Nah, I'm not much for movies," she drawled and then grinned. "I have it bad for books."

"I can see that." I laughed.

"Well, if you ever need to talk about hot men and them sending you flowers, know that I'm always here." Kate smiled down at me.

"Thank you."

"Anytime." Kate winked. With a wave of her hand, she spun on her heels and headed for the door. "See you later."

It wasn't until after Kate had left that it dawned on me that I had been methodically rubbing my thumb back and forth over the white envelope still in my hand. Scooting my chair over to the garbage can near my desk, I bit my lip in deliberation as I contemplated throwing away Damien's card. To keep it felt like I would be letting Damien in, and the mere thought made me uncomfortable and vulnerable, so I tossed the paper in the trash, as if it were on fire.

I slid my chair to its former position and took in the package of Excedrin where I was reminded of my tenacious headache. Desperate for any kind of relief, I ripped open the plastic wrapper, grabbed my water bottle, and downed the two pills.

Guilt tore at my consciousness.

I'd never been on the receiving end of such a selfless, considerate gesture from a man before, and it was wreaking havoc on my mind. I glanced to my left, catching the corner rim of the trash. It taunted me for being so dismissive of Damien's sentiment. I didn't _want_ to feel anything, but damn it, I did.

I quickly wheeled myself to the garbage bin and pulled the envelope out. Opening the second drawer of my desk, I tossed the card inside before slamming it shut.

_There._ I let out a deep breath. _Out of sight, out of mind._

To distract myself from a certain steamy CEO that was a hazard to my armor, I emailed Asher Montana to schedule our next conference meeting to go over my findings.

Over the next several hours, I debated on whether or not to send Damien a thank-you text for relieving me of my migraine, and I also made a mental note to stock up on some pain reliever on the way home just in case. I was supposed to notify my oncologist right away if I had any headaches. This was the first one I'd had since I'd been in remission, so I chalked it up to stress from my heavy workload.

It was a quarter after six by the time I finished the urgent stack of files on my desk. The remaining three accounts that needed my attention were going home with me tonight for a work date, so I clutched each of them against my chest where I was quickly reminded that I had yet to replace my broken briefcase. Then, I grabbed my purse before heading out.

I was surprised to see Kate still at the front desk. The office had closed at five.

I pivoted to face her and paused. "Hey. What are you still doing here at this hour?"

Kate looked up at me and smiled. "I had to finish filing, and then I decided to stay and finish up some memos for Cale instead of taking my work home with me." She rose from her desk and organized her paperwork. "I'm pretty much done though. I like to be home before Noah finishes at the gym, so I can prepare dinner."

"Okay." I smiled, watching as she grabbed her purse.

Kate was a rare find. She was kind and thoughtful, someone who always went above and beyond.

When Kate came to my side, I dug in my bag to retrieve my keys.

"Noah and I are going out to dinner on Friday night. Would you like to come with us?" Kate asked.

I hadn't had a drink since the tumor. A night out sounded heavenly, and surely, a drink or two wouldn't hurt me. It had been far too long.

"Sure." I smiled at her. "That would be wonderful."

"Great!" She beamed. "Tell Iris to make some time for us, too! She always knows how to have a good time."

"Yes, she does." I laughed.

Kate and I exited the building, and I locked the door behind us. We turned right on the sidewalk and strolled to the end of the building. I was grateful that, during the summer, it was still light outside as we took another right down the alley toward the parking lot.

As we continued through the middle of the brick buildings, I was reminded that normally Kate, Noah, Cale, Sage, Iris, and I would all go out together. Since Cale and Sage were separated, I wondered how that would play out. I wanted to remain hopeful because Sage was also my friend.

"Are Cale and Sage coming?" I asked.

"Uh, no," Kate drawled on a humorless laugh. "I was trying to be optimistic that they both would still hang out with us until things took a nosedive for the worst yesterday."

"Oh," I replied, feeling equally out of the loop and disappointed. I really wanted Cale and Sage to work things out.

"Yeah, I don't picture the two of them being in a room together at the same time ever again."

I watched the pavement as I stepped around a pothole.

"But Noah and I are so excited to spend some time with you and Iris, if she can make it. It will be great. I promise."

"Can't wait," I said with excitement, missing the last gaping hole in the ground.

I glanced up to locate my car, and my steps faltered. Damien was standing in front of my red Chevy Malibu with his hands tucked into the pockets of his dark suit as he leaned casually against the driver's side door of my car.

A deliberately slow smile began to spread across his face, all the way until it revealed a small dimple at the corner of his mouth. My feet moved of their own accord, closing the distance between us. Those gray eyes pulled at me in a way that no words could describe. I heard Kate's voice talking to me, yet it was a dull background noise. My attention was completely rapt on the man before me...and that smile.

_God, that smile._ It was like he knew that he had me.

I stopped inches in front of him, and I was forced to look up at him. "What are you doing here?" I blurted out.

That crease at the corner of his mouth deepened, making my heart beat erratically. "Picking you up for our date."

"You said dinner," I corrected him. "And no, you're not. I politely declined several times."

Kate shifted on her feet at my left and cleared her throat. "Well, I'd better get going. See you tomorrow, Raelyn."

I tilted my head to offer her an apologetic smile. "Good night, Kate."

She scurried off and jumped into her car before peeling out of the parking lot. I almost laughed at her urgency. After the way she'd been curious for information earlier, she'd sure left in a hurry.

I could feel Damien's eyes burning into me. My pulse thrummed with an uncontrollable fervor as I gazed back at him. "We are not having dinner," I reiterated, unsure of which one of us I was trying to convince as I blindly fumbled with my keys. I grabbed the keyless entry fob to unlock my car. "Please move."

Damien stood to his full height and inched his way closer to me. It did nothing to calm my reaction to his proximity. I silently tried to relax, but my heart rate just kept accelerating. He lifted his hand and set it at the base of my chin. Ever so slowly, he tilted my head to meet his gaze.

"One dinner, Raelyn," he said gently, the depths of his grays penetrating me.

His touch sparked something inexplicable within me, but I quickly tucked that thought away.

"That's all I'm asking."

I wanted to say no so badly, so I could protect myself from the possibility of the unknown, yet the way he was looking at me challenged me not to.

"Okay," I found myself saying.

His eyes lit up with pleasure. It was a stunning sight to see.

"Okay," he repeated in agreement with a genuine smile.

He lowered his hand to grab mine and gave it a slight tug toward his Mitsubishi R8 as he told me, "Come on. I'll drive."

With my files still in my opposing hand, I motioned to my Malibu. "But my car is here."

"I'll drive you back afterward. I want you all to myself for a few hours."

If my body wasn't humming from our connection, I would have had the right mind to protest. He unlocked his car and opened the passenger door for me. I lowered myself into the seat, placing the files on the center of my lap, and then I put on the seat belt as he came around the vehicle and entered the driver's seat.

Damien turned over the engine. It purred to life with a masculine throaty sound. He set his hand on the gearshift and then hesitated. His gaze, dancing with amusement, wandered to the documents on my thighs. "Do you always bring work home with you?"

"Yes," I admitted, suddenly feeling shy about my lack of a social life. My work _was_ my life.

"So do I"--Damien grinned--"but not today."

He slowly reached over and grabbed the folders. The movement caused the sleeves of his dark suit and white shirt to slightly slide up his forearm, revealing a black tribal-looking tattoo that wrapped around his wrist and disappeared beneath his clothing. Before I could make out more of it, a rush of his minty breath hit my nose.

I held my breath as he said, "Don't worry. They'll be perfectly safe in my backseat."

He lifted his arms and rotated toward the back of the car where he gently lowered my paperwork onto the seat. I forced myself to focus on the dashboard when he gazed back at me, still invading my space.

From the corner of my eye, I saw his grin widen. It was as if he was reveling in my uneasiness. He knew he affected me.

_Damn him._

"Uh, thank you," I fumbled to say at last, failing to conceal my nervousness. I was two seconds away from melting into a puddle on the floor.

"You're welcome."

With his foot on the brake and his hand on the gearshift, Damien shifted the car into drive. The sports car moved forward smoothly as we headed through the parking lot for the main street.

"Do you have a preference on where we eat?" he asked.

I gazed sideways at him.

"Steak, Italian, seafood?" he asked.

"Italian sounds good." I was starving.

"Fine by me," he said, reciprocating my expression.

#

Damien pulled into Caro Mio and slowly drove to the front of the Italian restaurant. The building was made of natural stone, all earthy tones, with lights beaming down on the sidewalk. I was immediately thankful I'd worn a cream blouse and black pencil skirt with matching black heels to work today, appearing somewhat dressy for such an elaborate place.

Damien parked his car under the intricate archway at the entrance of the valet section. He reached behind him and pulled out a black leather briefcase before exiting the vehicle to come around to my side to open my door. He reached for my hand to help me out of the vehicle.

A young blond-haired gentleman approached and gave us a friendly smile. "Good evening, sir."

"Evening." Damien let go of me and discreetly tipped the gentleman.

In return, he gave Damien a green ticket. "Thank you, sir." The man nodded before walking over to the double doors to open one for us.

Damien gently took my hand again and guided it to his forearm to escort me inside.

I was instantly in awe of the two large marble pillars on either side of the front desk. The inviting warm-colored walls were covered in elegantly framed artwork.

"Good evening, Mr. Heathman," the woman standing behind the front desk greeted us and pointed to her left. "Ms. Livingston will seat you right away."

I was surprised to learn there would be no wait as Ms. Livingston beamed welcomingly at Damien and me.

Her shiny red hair and bright blue eyes glowed beneath the lighting. "Right this way, Mr. Heathman." She motioned for us to follow her.

Damien slowly led me along as we skirted around the main part of the dining section, and then we made a sharp right where we passed through a wooden archway. It appeared to be a secluded area meant for private dining.

We were directed to the corner of the room next, passing a large electric fireplace surrounded by black-and-gray slate tiles. The flames yellow glow illuminated the space, and the heat radiating from it faintly heated my already warm skin.

Damien pulled out my chair for me, so I could take a seat. As he walked to the other end of the square-shaped table, he set his briefcase on the floor and sat down. I couldn't help but observe his every move. Each one of his purposeful actions was deliberate and controlled. His presence seemed to suck all the oxygen from the room, and I felt breathless when he finally stared over at me.

I tried my best to read his eyes. They were completely indecipherable, and their darkness drew me in, captivating me, as if calling to me.

He smiled a dazzling smile at me, and with just that look alone, my pulse changed speeds and beat wildly in my veins. Understanding he had a profound effect on me that I was powerless to control, I was desperate to make this meeting quick, so I could escape.

My throat closed with my qualms, and I swallowed before speaking. "So, you had something you wanted to share with me?"

"Not yet," he answered, methodically shaking his head back and forth, as he kept his gaze locked on mine. "Dinner first. Then, work."

Right on cue, the waitress appeared out of thin air. She positioned herself at the center of the table and gave Damien and me each a tall glass of water, smiling brightly between the two of us. "May I take your orders?"

I scurried for my menu and scanned the contents.

Damien replied without hesitation, "Yes, please. I'll have the chicken and shrimp carbonara with a salad, paired with a glass of your finest Cabernet Sauvignon."

The waitress scribbled on her notepad before glancing down at me. "And for you, ma'am?"

Since chicken sounded lovely and it was my favorite, I said, "I'll have the chicken alfredo and also a salad with extra ranch, please."

"And to drink?" she asked as she made another note.

Given I viewed this as a business meeting, I would normally refuse any kind of alcohol. But, tonight, with the way Damien's presence affected me, I decided one glass of wine might put me at ease. "I'll try the Cabernet Sauvignon as well."

"Of course. I'll be back with your salads and drinks in just a few minutes." Her smile was unwavering as she dismissed herself.

Uncertain of what to say to the man in front of me, I reached for my straw and set about removing the white wrapper. I placed the straw in my drink and then picked up the long paper to fold it over and over again. I felt like I was in high school on my first date again. Only, this time, I didn't have braces and untamed bangs. That was what this man did to me. He reduced me into a tongue-tied mass while butterflies swarmed in my stomach.

The deep throaty tone of Damien's voice pulled me out of my wandering thoughts when he queried, "Extra dressing, huh?"

"Oh, yes. It's a must in my book." I grinned over at him. "It makes the lettuce go down smoother."

As a kid, I'd been forced to eat whatever was on my plate, which hadn't been adequate nutrition for a growing child. I was trying to remedy my lack of taste buds as an adult. Ranch or cheese always made food more appealing.

"I take it, you're not a fan of lettuce?" His brows rose in amusement, and his lips twitched.

"No." I laughed nervously, twisting the wrapper in front of me on the table. "Unfortunately, I never acquired much of a preference for any kind of vegetable. It's one of my faults." I inwardly rolled my eyes at myself, unsure of why I'd told him that last part.

"Faults? I can't imagine you have any faults." He grinned mischievously. It was a sight to behold, a much better sight to witness than his normal indifference.

"Oh, I have a whole list," I corrected him.

He thoughtfully tilted his head to the side. "Care to share?"

Normally, I wouldn't divulge those tidbits of information to anyone. However, maybe it could work to my benefit, and he wouldn't ask me out again.

"Hmm...let's see," I drawled teasingly as the waitress quietly delivered our salads and wine before leaving. "I'm a bed hog. I love to sleep in the middle of it. Laundry is my worst enemy."

The more I pondered, the more my list increased, so I continued, "I'm ridiculously OCD when it comes to cleaning even though I dislike it. The idea of something being out of place puts me on edge."

He lifted his wine and hovered the glass in front of his lips while his eyes sparkled over the rim at me. "There is nothing wrong with everything having a proper place."

"Maybe." I shrugged. "Sometimes, I wish I could let the mess be, but my mind won't tolerate it."

"So, what about the good?" He took a drink from his glass.

"The good?" I took a sip of my wine. It was fruity and slightly dry, but surprisingly, it went down smoothly.

"Yes. What are your strong suits?"

His question caught me off guard. It was harder than the first. I placed my glass on the table. "I'm organized and prepared. When I need to be somewhere, I'm always on time."

"You're one of those people who arrive thirty minutes early to everything, aren't you?" His right brow curved upward into an inquisitive arch. It caused a wild stray hair to fall onto his forehead.

I resisted the urge to reach forward and push it back into place. No contact with Damien would be the safest for the shield around my heart.

"Yep." I chuckled and pointed my finger at him. "But at least I'm squeaky clean around the house. That has to count for something, right?"

"Good point." He joined in my mirth. His laughter was a stunning sound to my ears. It was infectious and the kind that made one smile just for being privy to hearing it.

"You should laugh more often," slipped out of my mouth before I could stop it.

Maybe he did, and I just didn't know him well enough to know any better.

I regretted my comment instantly as Damien pressed his lips together and swallowed.

"Why is that?" he asked.

My fingers began to make work of what was left of my straw wrapper again, and I confessed, "It makes you less intimidating."

His expression turned to surprise. "You find me intimidating?"

I felt my face heat. "Very much so."

The planes of his features hardened fractionally. "Sometimes, there isn't much to smile and laugh about in life."

I couldn't argue with him there, so I subtly nodded my head in agreement. Again, I grabbed my wine as a distraction. "So, what about you? What are your strengths and weaknesses?" I questioned, disturbed by how eager I was to hear his answers.

Damien raised his hand and ran it back and forth across his jaw. I could tell he was thinking deeply.

"Well, with my companies, I have a canny ability to keep calm and delegate orders when the time calls for it. I have a bachelor's in business management, and it has served me extremely well thus far in life."

"And your weaknesses?" I pressed in a teasing voice to maintain a light atmosphere.

"Oh, there are too many to list."

There was no way I was going to let him off the hook so easily with his evasiveness, so I playfully narrowed my eyes at him. "You're going to have to do better than that."

He was quiet for a few moments, seeming lost in his own mind. Just when I finally thought he wasn't going to answer me, he told me, "I constantly need to have control."

His response should have unnerved me, but for some inexplicable reason, it didn't. Instead, it left me reeling, and I found myself wanting to crawl out of my isolated protective bubble as my curiosity about this mysterious man across from me increased.

I licked my lips and dug deep for my courage, staring straight into the depths of his grays. "You need it or thrive on it?"

His eyes held mine captive. "Need it. In all aspects of my life."

That sounded like a loaded statement. Before I could process my thoughts, the waitress suddenly appeared with our meals and placed them in front of us. I was instantly grateful for the interruption because I wasn't sure of how to reply to his statement.

My chicken alfredo smelled divine, so I wasted little time in adding a dash of salt and pepper before diving into my meal. Damien and I fell into a comfortable silence as we began to eat. I found myself longing to learn more about him, but at the same time, I was equally apprehensive to do so. It was confusing, to say the least.

"So, are you originally from here?" he asked me in between bites.

"No."

"Where's home then?"

I twisted my fork to twine the long noodles around the metal while pondering. The easiest explanation was that I didn't have one. My home was where I'd made it seven years ago with Iris here in Sarasota when my foster family had kicked me out of their house and left me to fend for myself. I had no idea where I was born or who my birth parents were, except my biological mother had left me a large amount of money in a bank account. I'd received it five years ago after she'd apparently passed away. None of that would make good conversation over dinner.

"Here," I finally answered, knowing that I was a walking contradiction of my last comment.

Damien must have agreed with my internal thoughts because his eyes darted up to mine. His face contorted in confusion. "But you just said you're not from here."

"I'm not."

"But you just said..." He trailed off, as if waiting for me to clarify.

"I know." I reached for my wine and sipped on it, needing it to soothe me. "This _is_ my home now, and that is all that matters. My past is of no importance," I finished softly before biting my lower lip to keep it from trembling.

I was thankful that Damien didn't ask me to elaborate as we both resumed eating our meals. We switched to a more neutral conversation, talking about the erratic Florida weather, our favorite beaches, and the places we each dreamed of visiting someday in the future.

Other than sharing a common interest of the outdoors, I learned that we were actually complete opposites of one another. Damien loved to read business magazines while I preferred art-related ones. He religiously ran and worked out to keep in good shape while I sadly despised my treadmill or vigorous regimens. It seemed that he was an optimist, whereas I was a realist.

An hour passed in the blink of an eye, and I was on my second glass of wine. I pinched my index finger and thumb around the stem and began to spin the glass within my grasp. This was starting to feel like Damien was getting his way, making this evening more of a date than a business meeting. It was time to cut to the chase.

"So, are you going to tell me why you asked me here, Damien?" I queried, repeating my earlier question. It was time to get this evening over with, so I could rush back home into my worry-free safe zone, away from the intimidating Damien Heathman.

He intently eyed me across the table, as though he were gathering his feelings and piecing them together, before he said, "You said something to me in our conference meeting yesterday that changed my perspective." He hesitated, looking straight at me.

The seriousness of his tone made me feel on edge as I wondered where this conversation was leading.

"And what was that?" I asked softly.

"You said that numbers never lie, and it made me contemplate where I want to go from here."

"No, they don't," I agreed truthfully. "But I feel like you're talking in circles."

"I'm sorry. That's not my intention." He leaned forward in his chair and rested his elbows on the table. Those grays stared into my greens, his sparkling from the glow of the fireplace. "I need to ask you something, and I want you to be honest with me."

My pulse spiked, and my head was spinning. "Okay," I answered simply.

"Are you fucking him?"

"I beg your pardon?" My posture went rigid as I felt utterly caught off guard at his bluntness and arrogance. I was pretty sure my jaw had hit the table, too. But I still didn't understand what he meant or whom he was referring to. "Am I fucking whom?" My tone was hard.

"Cale Adam." My partner's name left his mouth, plagued with distaste.

My blood pressure ignited, and my body trembled with rage. Once again, I clamped my steel armor tight around my heart, locking it firmly in place. _He has some balls. I'll give him that._

I prided myself on being a lady with proper manners, but today, I would make an exception. Rising from my seat, I leaned forward to set my palms flat on the table, and I looked him square in the eyes. "Fuck you, Damien."

His expression appeared shocked as I spun on my heels to make my escape. Damien managed to gently catch my arm before I had even made it three steps.

"Let go of me," I hissed, spinning around on my heels to shove at his chest.

"I'm going to assume that's a no," he whispered discreetly, pulling his brows together.

"Of course it is!" I snapped. "I would never sleep with my business partner. He's married!" I didn't know why I had answered his stupid question because I certainly wasn't answerable to him, yet I wanted him to know the truth while defending my pride.

"I'm sorry, but I had to ask, so I could understand." His apology was full of genuine regret.

I was too livid to accept it. "Understand what?" I laughed humorously. "That you're an inconsiderate asshole?"

"No," he drawled before tugging his lower lip between his teeth. "Well, maybe that, too." He shrugged, appearing guilty. "Sometimes."

"You're failing to redeem yourself here, Damien."

"I know," he said empathetically, gesturing to the chair. His eyes pleaded with mine. "Please sit. Let me explain."

"Why on earth would I do that?"

"Because I have some insight to share with you about my working relationship with your company, and you really do need to hear it."

My mind fought an internal war. I wanted to run more than anything, like the first time when I'd met Damien, yet something inside of me told me to hear him out. "Five minutes. That's it, and then I'm gone."

He was silent for a brief moment before he exhaled. "All right. But you have to promise me that you'll let me explain and keep an open mind while I do so."

I stepped into his space, ignoring the way my heart skipped a beat. "Only if you promise to be truthful with me. Stick to the facts, and leave out assumptions." It was the only way I worked.

Damien nodded his head in agreement. "You have my word." His voice was strong with the utmost sincerity.

"Fair enough." I let out a deep breath. I couldn't believe I was doing this.

Damien guided me back to my chair where I sat down and tried to calm myself. I was a bundle of nerves as I pondered over what prudent information he could have for me. He slowly took a seat in front of me, leaned to his side, and pulled out a thick white folder.

"When I first came to you," he began, "I'll be honest, my intentions were to destroy your company."

I gasped, choking on thin air, and readied my body to take flight.

Damien narrowed his eyes at me. "You asked for honesty, Raelyn, and I'm giving it to you. Now, I need you to hold up your end of the bargain and hear me out with an open mind."

"Continue." I stifled an irritated sigh as I mentally planned my escape route. _This is insane. I need to call a cab._

Damien outstretched his hands and neatly set the file down in front of me. I read the words on top.

CONFIDENTIAL

HEATHMAN ENTERPRISES

"As I said, my intentions were different when I first walked into your office, and then I laid eyes on you." He paused, letting his words sink into my mind, before adding, "Then, you told me, 'Numbers never lie,' and it made me reevaluate my intentions."

"I did." I opened the file, seeing Damien's business name on the first piece of paper, followed by lots of numbers.

"When you read through the documents I gave you, you'll see that, starting more than four months ago, the numbers do not balance. A few thousand dollars are unaccounted for each week. Then, as you continue to the last two months, a few thousand turn into several thousand dollars. The total missing funds add up to a substantial amount.

"At first, when I saw that profits weren't staying consistent or increasing, I thought it was a typo or a miscalculation. I became more alarmed when I saw they'd started decreasing. I compared your company's spreadsheets to each of my own individual store sales records and saw that a countless number of figures had been altered between the two documents."

I didn't like where this conversation was leading. It made knots tighten and coil in the pit of my stomach. This was bad, really bad.

"Only one person handles my accounting, Raelyn," Damien broke into my thoughts. "Your partner is stealing from me."

That ball in my stomach churned, and I wanted to vomit.

"No," I breathed in utter denial, rapidly shaking my head from side to side. "Cale would never do such a thing. It's a mistake." I shoved the papers back across the table. "It _has_ to be a mistake."

"It's not." He placed his hand atop mine, stopping me. That familiar spark shimmered between our connected hands. "I've checked them over countless times myself, hoping I missed something. The numbers never changed. Cale's figures are significantly different than my own."

"No," I repeated with finality. This was some kind of joke...or a nightmare. "Cale wouldn't do this. He's honest and loyal, and he's my business partner and a close friend."

"He is my friend, too." His jaw twitched with anger. "Or was, for that matter."

My head was spinning. No words would come.

"Trust me, Raelyn. Cale is the last person I ever expected this from."

"Trust you?" I wanted to laugh. "I don't even know you."

"Yes, trust me when I say, Cale is one of my oldest friends, but that doesn't change the facts here--or numbers, as you say--and I won't overlook his betrayal."

"How can you be so sure? Maybe..." I trailed off, realizing I had no explanation or excuse for my partner even though I wanted to help clear my friend's name.

"Haven't you ever wondered how Cale just went on an all-inclusive trip to Paris two months ago? Or, better yet, how did he manage to buy a second house in Florida?" His eyes softened as my fingers began to tingle. "Tell me how, Raelyn, because I don't see you living as lavishly as your honest partner."

I had __ deliberated over those exact questions before, but I knew about Cale's family. They were very wealthy.

"And don't you dare say his parents paid for it because he hasn't spoken to them in years, Raelyn. _Years._ "

I was overwhelmed. My brain was on overload. This was the last thing I'd expected when Damien said he had something to share with me.

When I started to dry-heave, I threw my hand over my mouth and leaped from my chair. "I'm going to be sick," was all I had time to say before I ran out of the private room and darted straight for the ladies' room.

I threw myself into the first stall and lifted the toilet seat, gagging and coughing, as my body trembled to hold myself upright.

This was awful. I wanted to go home where I would be safe and away from this disaster I'd suddenly found myself wedged in the middle of. I had no idea where to go from here.

I was grateful that nothing had come up from my retching, but my belly still rolled with uneasiness as I rose to my feet. Still unprepared to face Damien, I closed my eyes and leaned back against the cold metal stall.

My head swarmed again. Cale and I were tied together in this business. If he'd stolen money from a client, my ass would be on the line, too. I could only pray that my partner or Damien had miscalculated the figures.

_Yes, that has to be it._ I would go through each and every detail myself and find the error.

Then, everything would go back to normal. Cale could resume accounting for Heathman Enterprises, and their friendship would be restored. Maybe it was wishful thinking on my part, but I was determined to find a solution.

I flushed the toilet, unlocked the door, and walked over to the sink to wash and dry my hands. With a calming breath, I went to the door of the restroom and pushed it open.

I walked out, and in front of a large square painting, Damien was leaning against the wall at my left with his briefcase dangling at his side.

He came to my side where he lifted his hand to my hair and tucked a loose tendril behind my ear. He scanned my face. Concern was etched across his features. "Are you okay?"

"Yes. Thank you." I smiled feebly. "Sorry about that."

"There's no need to apologize." He lowered his hand and reached for mine. "Come on. Let's get out of here. There's someplace I'd like to take you."

Given our current predicament, I tried to rack my mind for the best way to politely decline his offer. But curiosity got the best of me, and my protest died on my lips.

I was quickly noticing my pattern of not being able to resist Damien. Even though I knew it would be a hazard to my heart, I seemed powerless to stop it.

I was too focused on how he made me feel...alive. 

#

Damien and I rode in silence as we ate up the miles, and I was glad for the time to process my thoughts. Every now and then, I'd rotate to face him, and he seemed to be doing the same.

Before I knew it, he pulled off onto a secluded gravel road. I glanced out the windshield. Tall palm trees lined the sidewalk, and a narrow trail led down to the water. It was Sarasota Beach.

When he parked the car in the first vacant space, I gave him a questioning stare.

"It's a perfect night." He tilted his head my way and turned off the ignition. "Walk with me?"

I acknowledged him with a nod. We exited the car, and he came to my side. Together, we ambled side by side to the bridge and crossed it. He stopped right before my high heels hit the sand, and he bent over at the waist to remove his shoes and socks, tossing them to the right of us. He rolled his dress slacks up a couple of inches while I pulled off my heels and discarded them next to his belongings.

Damien extended his hand for mine and turned us to face the ocean, as if it were the most natural, familiar thing on earth. My breathing slightly hitched when our bare skin connected. That delicious spark of electricity passed between us, and there were simply no words to describe it.

Damien must have felt it, too, because it halted him in his tracks. He glanced down at our hands, and my gaze followed his for a brief moment before we both looked at one another.

"It's not just me," he murmured quietly, his eyes piercing mine. "You feel it, too, don't you?"

"Yes," I breathed, feeling my neck and cheeks heat.

"Hmm..." Damien drawled slowly, seeming equally taken aback by the sensations coursing through us.

He leisurely brushed his thumb back and forth over mine. It sent my pulse into a wicked frenzy. Then, his unreserved smile sent my heart racing in my chest and slamming into my rib cage. I was left utterly speechless and dizzy from it all.

Several moments passed before he gently tightened his hand around mine, as if wordlessly conveying that he had no intentions of letting me go. He guided me toward the shoreline, and we began to walk alongside the edge of the water. The bottom of my feet became damp, and the sand slid between my toes. I could smell the salt in the air when the warm breeze blew across my face.

The beach was fairly vacant, except for a few people scattered in the distance. Nearest to us was a couple wrapped together in a towel, snuggling into each other, as they watched the waves crashing in.

"So, what made you choose accounting for a career?" Damien spoke first.

I gazed out at the ocean, watching as the moonlight beamed off the water. "I wanted a respectable, stable career--one that was safe, consistent, and would never steer me wrong."

Damien was quiet for a short moment, as if absorbing my answer. Then, he gazed down at me and asked, "Am I right to assume that your reasoning for your career choice falls into your belief that numbers never lie?"

I was impressed with his intuitiveness, and I smiled softly. "Yes. Numbers are always easy to figure out and balance. They are unfailing and reliable." I chanced a glance up at him and found him observing me. "What about you? What turned you into a risky entrepreneur?"

"Being an entrepreneur doesn't have to be risky, Raelyn."

"No. But there's always risk in the beginning."

"Yes," he agreed thoughtfully, bringing us to a stop. "Though, without risk, there can never be a reward. Surely, you must know that, considering you started your own accounting firm."

That was true. However, I'd never viewed my business as a risk because the money I'd used to fund it was an inheritance from a biological mother I'd never once met. It was as if she'd gifted me the outstanding lump sum of money as an apology for giving me up. It was almost like blood money or a bribery of false love. I hadn't wanted it. So, to chance losing it hadn't been a risk to me.

Knowing that explanation was too deep to get into right now, I just replied, "You make a good point." I smiled to lighten the mood. "So, let me rephrase my question. What made you want to become an entrepreneur?"

He resumed walking, and he took his time before speaking, "I began working as a young teen. It was my way to escape."

I wanted to ask him to elaborate, but I didn't want to interrupt.

"I saved every dime I'd earned, and when I was twenty-two, I finally had enough money to buy my first house." He gave me a sideways grin. "It was a complete shithole."

I laughed as we curved with the beach.

"No, seriously." He joined in with my mirth. "I was scared to walk on the floors in fear that I might end up in the basement."

My brows rose. "Did you ever?"

"No. Thank God," he exhaled. "I worked fifty-plus hours a week at my regular day job, and every second I wasn't there, I began to restore the house while also living in it. I used every single one of my paychecks to buy building materials, and I practically lived on ramen noodles or mac and cheese in hopes that it would fuel me through to the next day." His expression was serious, as though he were reliving those moments. "I was determined to make something of myself."

"Well, you did," I said sincerely. "You should be proud of yourself."

"I am...most days."

"Most?" I asked curiously.

"Yes. Most."

"Does that mean you're not done conquering the world yet?" I teased as we rounded a slight ridge with large boulders off to the side. It forced us to step into the warm water until it reached halfway up my calves.

"My objective isn't to conquer, per se." He shrugged, appearing deep in thought. "I just want to do my part and make the world a better place. My goal is to create elegant buildings and thriving businesses that help stimulate the economy by providing adequate jobs for families."

His answer was respectable and admirable. It showed that he cared for others, not the total number in his bank account.

When I didn't respond, he gave my hand a light squeeze. "What about you? Where's your family?"

We passed the rocks and came back up onto the wet sand.

No matter how hard I'd tried to avoid this question over the years, it always seemed to come up and rear its ugly head.

"I don't have any."

That brought his movements to a halt. "What do you mean?" he asked, his sad eyes searching mine. "Surely, you must have some relatives."

"No." My shoulders rose and fell with the loneliness that only this topic had the power to evoke in me. "It's just me."

"Just you?" he pressed lightly, as though astounded by my answer.

"Just me."

I smiled weakly and started to stride forward, forcing Damien to follow or break his hold on my hand. He chose to keep up with me.

"Although, I do have Iris." My expression genuinely lightened, and I decided to continue elaborating so that he wouldn't pry on the sensitive subject at hand, "She's my best friend and roommate, and she's all that I need. I've known her for years." It wasn't much, but I was proud of myself for opening up even if it was just a tiny sliver. "And your family?"

The vibrant color drained from his face, and an unreadable mask slipped into place, hiding his emotions from me, as he'd done yesterday in the conference room. "It would seem that we share something in common..." He trailed off, glancing at the water.

Seconds slowly ticked by, and when I thought he wasn't going to answer me, he murmured, "I don't have one either." His eyes met mine. "It's a choice I made a long time ago, and I stand by my decision."

Confusion washed over me. By his statement, I gathered that he must have a family, but he chose not to see them. His decision had me reeling. It was a completely foreign concept to me. I would have given _anything_ to have a mother and father.

Quicker than a snap of a finger, Damien's demeanor shifted, and his handsome gray eyes glistened with mischief as he let go of me to unbutton his jacket. "How about a late-night swim?"

If he was trying to distract me, it worked.

"What?" I sputtered, gaping at him.

I glanced around to see that we'd traveled quite far from where we'd begun our journey. I guessed that we must have walked several miles up the coastline. We were now in front of a residential area. The houses were so spaced out that only two were in view.

"Don't you enjoy the ocean?" he asked, completely unfazed by my reservations.

"Yes," I nearly cried on a strangled laugh, appalled by his lack of concern. "But that doesn't mean I want to swim this late at night." It wasn't late, but still, this was crazy.

"What are you afraid of?" he challenged.

I countered his question with my own, "Aren't you worried someone might see us?"

"No, I'm not." He tossed his jacket aside. His demeanor was full of confidence. "Besides, it's only you and me out here."

I scanned our surroundings again. He was right. There was no one in sight. It was just the two of us. This part of the beach was isolated.

At my speechlessness, he set about gradually unbuttoning his white dress shirt, almost seductively, giving me a private mini striptease. "And my only concern is getting you into the ocean with me"--he threw that shirt aside, too, as a mischievous slow grin spread across his features, knocking me back with its intensity--"naked."

I was quickly lost in the bareness of his ripped upper body, lingering on the expansion of his broad shoulders that revealed raw strength. Then, I did a lazy sweep downward where my mouth went dry and my core scorched with heat as I took in each defined curve of his abdominal muscles. His flawlessness made me weak in the knees.

_God, he is breathtaking_.

He exceeded the definition of perfection. No, he put perfection to shame.

His naked torso wasn't all that had caught my attention.

Both of his thick biceps were sleeved with tattoos, each inked with tribal designs of some sort, and scriptures were on his forearms. I wondered if there was a meaning behind them. His left side also had writing, but I couldn't read anything from where I was standing. From the outside perspective of Damien, when he was fully clothed, I would never have pictured him having tattoos, so to witness him undressed was like I was seeing a whole other man.

It felt like an eternity had passed before I reined in my shattered wits and brought my gaze up to meet his.

Finally, my thoughts settled on the last word of his statement. _Naked._

I narrowed my eyes at his brazenness, causing him to counter my expression with a bold smirk. I stifled a smile that threatened to expose itself.

"Not naked," I stated firmly, praying that he was joking.

"Ah, come on, Raelyn." He inched his way forward, coming at me like a panther on the prowl. "Live a little."

His comment struck a nerve. "I do," I argued, not wanting him to see right through me. The truth was, I didn't live. I muddled my way through it, doing the bare minimum to survive.

He advanced again and circled me closely. "My guess is that, no, you don't."

I briefly closed my eyes when his chest rubbed against me in all the right ways.

"I think you live in a world that is safe, respectable, consistent...and predictable." He pulled my hair to the side and leaned into me. His hot breath was clouding my mind and my judgment. "Don't you think it's time you finally took a risk in life?"

I held my breath, knowing damn well that he was repeating some of my reasons to describe my career choice.

_God, he's right, and I hate it._

I contemplated his offer, longing to prove him...and myself wrong.

It _was_ wrong to consider a swim with him...so wrong and reckless...yet it felt oh-so right. I'd be damned if he didn't stir a powerfully deep sense of desperation within me--to live, to feel alive. With him, I felt like I was breathing for the first time.

"The bra and panties stay." My voice was strong. It left no room for argument.

I would not budge on this. He could take it or leave it.

He acknowledged me with a single nod of his head and removed his pants.

Once they were on the sand beside his shirt and he was standing in a pair of black boxers, I gestured to the waistband and shrieked, "Those stay on, too!"

_Fucking hell_. I would never have survived him if he'd stripped himself bare.

The man was ripple after ripple of raw muscle. It should be illegal to be so beautiful.

I was relieved when he lowered his arms to his sides, leaving his boxers in place.

"All right," he drawled before giving me an expectant, smug smile as he motioned to my clothing. "Off with it then."

I suddenly lost the braveness I'd felt moments ago. I was that skinny girl, but the thing was, I didn't want to be. My waist was too narrow. My lack of upper body strength was embarrassing. I had no curves to my thighs or ass to fill out my jeans.

Chemotherapy had made it worse. Since completing my treatments, I had gained back half of the weight that I'd lost, as it was a slow process, and my appetite still wasn't up to full speed.

But if I'd learned one thing while being sick, it was to love myself, imperfections and all, and to appreciate my body. It was what made me, me. And it was the only one I was ever going to have, so I refused to let my nerves get the best of me.

With those feelings aside, I was still unbelievably nervous to take my clothes off in front of a man I hardly knew, so I tried to perceive that showing him my bra and underwear was practically the same as wearing a swimsuit.

My fingers trembled to an extent as they grasped the hem of my cream blouse to lift it from my body. I threw it on the ground before returning my eyes to see Damien staring at me with unreserved appreciation. His pupils dilated as his gaze traveled from my flat stomach to my chest and up the length of my neck before landing on my face. The gesture only took seconds, but it felt like an eternity.

I reached around to the small of my back to unbutton my skirt and allowed my eyes to drift to his toned thighs, mentally reminding myself that I wasn't the only one on display here.

My skirt fell to my ankles, and I kicked it to my right before giving him a once-over again. This time, I started at his feet. _God, even his feet are sexy._ Then, I let my lazy eyes roam upward, taking in all his heavenliness, until I landed on his face at last.

I observed the firm set of his jaw. It twitched as his gaze bore into mine with such scorching intensity and unabashed desire that my heart kicked into an unsteady rhythm.

Damien stepped toward me. His movements were calm and casual, yet a dozen emotions flitted across his features. He lifted his hand to caress my cheek, and his touch made my skin tingle.

"Christ," he whispered roughly, engulfing my face with his warm breath, "you're beautiful, Raelyn."

His compliment was just words, but the way he delivered them sent a delicious shiver bolting up my spine. Somehow, it even managed to shake my armor with the force of a sledgehammer.

"Thank you." I blushed bashfully when I found my voice. "So are you."

With a smile, he slowly let his arm fall. He tentatively held it out between our bodies with his palm facing upward to me. "Ready?"

I wasn't sure if it was the wine or him, but it was too late to turn back now. I was in too deep, so I exhaled my answer on a rush of air, "Yes."

Together, we walked hand in hand to the ocean. The great thing about Florida was that you could walk right into the water. There was no need to do it gradually to adjust to the temperature. It was always perfect in the summer.

The sun was beginning to fade out behind the horizon, and the smell of salt had already invaded my nose, but the rest of my senses were focused solely on the man still holding on to me as I felt that familiar spark thrumming between us. It was always there when we touched.

My toes dug deeper into the sand with each step, and I slightly widened my stance to brace myself when a wave came rolling in. With the water now up to my waist, I expected Damien to let go of me. He didn't though. Instead, he paused, causing me to halt in my tracks, and spun me to face him. He seemed perfectly content to stare at me. I wanted to seek refuge from the intensity in his gaze, so I grinned up at him, wiggled myself free, and dived beneath the surface.

I kicked my legs hard as I swam several yards away from him while fighting against the powerful waves crashing into me. When I surfaced, I inhaled a long breath and turned around to face him, keeping myself afloat.

But Damien was nowhere to be seen.

Seconds ticked by.

My head darted from left to right, over and over again, wondering where he was and how long he could hold his breath.

Afraid he was coming after me, I fell onto my back and propelled myself farther out to sea. His long arm came above the surface first, followed by his face, as he treaded the water with graceful, fluid movements. When I realized he was heading straight for me, I increased my efforts to swim in the opposite direction.

His knowing grin told me that he knew he was gaining on me. With all my might, I squealed and kicked my legs harder.

Damien grasped my ankle, and I yelped out a laugh.

"Where do you think you're going?" he taunted.

"Far away from you!" I cried, attempting to fight against him.

My efforts were useless. He was too strong.

"Oh, no, you don't," he retorted with a teasing confidence, hauling me toward his firm chest. "You're mine now."

I couldn't help myself from being fascinated by this new playful side of Damien. It was extraordinary to see. Gone was the powerful, domineering CEO, and here was a vibrant and lively man.

After a silent moment of appreciating Damien and drinking him in, I let him believe that he had me. When his hold on me relaxed, I threw my body into the water again and swam toward the shore, laughing in pure delight. My feet hit the bottom of the ocean floor. The cool air touched my exposed upper body, sending a tremor racing down my back, as I rotated to face him with a smug smirk proudly displayed on my face.

Damien stayed rooted in his stance, perusing me. "I let you get away." The twitching of his lips told me that he was stifling a smile.

"Sure you did." I chuckled, thoroughly enjoying myself. I elevated my right leg and splashed him, but the water didn't quite reach him.

"Careful." He glared my way.

I could sense his underlying amusement even though his expression gave nothing away.

Damien didn't scare me, not now that I'd seen his frisky side. He could try to keep his poker face firmly in place, but I was closer to the beach this time, and I was confident that I could make a run for it.

"Or what?" I challenged.

"Or I'll catch you and dunk you."

"All talk"--I flippantly waved my hand--"and no action."

That broke his controlled expression. He threw his head back and laughed hard. When he glanced back at me, his eyes danced with mirth before they filled with determination. "You _are_ mine now."

_Oh, shit._

Just as I was about to make a hasty retreat, something slimy slithered across my thigh. An uncontrollable violent shiver ricocheted down my spine as I jumped with a deafening loud scream and barreled for the shore.

"What is it?" Damien's voice along with his body wading through the water sounded from behind me.

I didn't dare turn around to look as I made my way through the knee-deep water. My mind was set on one thing--immediately getting me out of the water.

"Something touched me!" I shrieked, swiftly moving my legs. I was almost there.

When my feet hit the sand, I rapidly checked over my entire body. I knew it was probably nothing. But that slimy bastard had made my hair stand on end.

Damien reached me a second later. His eyes scanned me from head to toe before landing on my face. "Are you okay?" His voice was full of genuine concern.

"I don't know," I rambled, running my hands up and down my sides, stomach, and upper legs. "I mean, yes, I think so."

When I glanced over at Damien, his chest began to rise and fall with laughter.

I shot him an incredulous look. "Are you laughing at me?"

Brows raised, he shook his head in denial. "No, of course not."

_He's a crappy liar._

"You are so!" I shoved at his sternum.

"I'd never do such a thing!" he said, still denying my accusation. He protectively clutched at his chest with hilarity.

"It could have been a shark or a jellyfish!"

"It was probably just a fish." He grinned. "Or a baby fish."

"You're an ass." Okay, I was laughing now. _Gosh, my cheeks are going to hurt later._

"Ah, don't be like that." He gathered me in his arms and drew me in until we were touching.

Casting those powerful grays on me, he said, "You have to admit, once I found out that you weren't hurt, it was kind of funny."

"Fine." I sighed, briefly biting my lower lip to prevent a smile from seeping past it. "It was kind of amusing." I shot him a serious look. "But only now that it's not touching me anymore."

"Agreed." He gave me an unreserved boyish smile, devastating me with its beauty, successfully stopping my heart.

All I could do was watch him. Completely hypnotized by this man, I was riveted by the close view of his face as droplets of water trickled down his forehead, cheeks, and mouth, which was less than two inches from mine. I could feel his warm breath on me.

Suddenly, his right hand came to the back of my neck while his left rested on my cheek where he began a soft, gentle caress. The look of pure desire pooled in his eyes.

"Raelyn?" he said my name as a question. His tone was husky and raw with need.

"Yes?" I held my breath as time seemed to suspend around us.

With every fiber of my being, I thought that he was going to kiss me. A part of me longed to have his lips on mine, yet the other part didn't want him to kiss me. Deep down, I knew I'd never be able to forget his touch, and the memory would forever be etched in my memory.

My heart and mind were at a standstill. They had never disagreed so badly before.

"I'm going to kiss you." His hand tightened around my nape, and his lips tenderly brushed along mine. Our surroundings ceased to exist. "And you're going to let me."

Then, his mouth was on mine with a toe-curling kiss that was so potent that it managed to jump-start my heart, as if ten thousand volts of electricity had just been pumped through it.

All I could do was hold on, so I did. I ran my fingers through his hair and clung to him, as if my life depended on it. My lips molded to his and moved in perfect synchronization with his. Raw passion ignited between us, consuming us both. My insides were melting, overpowered by my senses. I was a riot of sparks and flames, captivated by his fervor to take me. Every last nerve ending in my body sparked to life with this one kiss.

I never wanted the feeling to end. I felt...utterly alive for the first time.

By the time we broke our connection, we were both breathless and gasping for air. I was dizzy and soaring high on cloud nine. I swayed on my feet, and I gripped Damien's biceps and slid my hands up to his shoulders to steady my balance.

That was when I felt the marks for the first time. Several jagged thick lines, running in opposite directions, marred my path on his bare tattooed skin. There were too many to count.

_Holy fuck. What are these?_

A profound rush of grief and heartache attacked all sides of my heart, penetrating my shield, at the idea of someone hurting him.

I was stunned I hadn't noticed them earlier tonight when he removed his clothes or during the few times I touched him, but I guessed I'd been distracted.

It didn't matter now.

The shift in his expression was immediate, the planes of his face instantly hardening. His body went rigid as a stone. His eyes were on guard, too, almost as though an impenetrable wall had been placed around them.

Normally, I wouldn't pry. But given that Damien knew that I'd felt them, I couldn't stop the words from leaving my mouth. "What happened?" I whispered.

The marks were deep scars--they had to be--and they were everywhere.

"Nothing," he answered dismissively, looking at anything but me.

I was knocked off-kilter by the rapid change of our evening.

"Did someone hurt you?" At the mere thought of someone inflicting such painful agony on Damien, I wanted to fall to my knees and succumb to the overwhelming sadness I felt tearing me apart from the inside out.

"They are part of my past, Raelyn. Nothing more." Damien's words were delivered with a harshness I'd never heard from him before as he backed away from me, leaving me to stare at the growing space between us. "And that's where I want them to stay."

"I'm _so_ sorry." I winced at his tone, embarrassed by my carelessness and lack in regard to his privacy and feelings, even though I deserved it. "I didn't mean to be nosy."

"It's fine." He glanced around, still refusing to meet my gaze. "It's getting late. We should be going." He turned around to face the direction from where we'd come. "I'll take you home."

As I watched Damien slowly make his way up to the beach to get dressed, so many emotions struck me. Topping the list were shock and despair at his revelation and my shame for bringing up something that caused him agony to talk about. I couldn't blame him for walking off.

I yearned to run up to Damien, throw my arms around him to offer him comfort, and tell him that none of the scars he wore on his flesh made any difference to me. I was never one to judge a book by its cover. It was what was on the inside that truly mattered.

But I didn't console Damien as I followed behind him, and a part of me told me that he didn't want me to either. 

#

As I sipped my coffee and waited for Iris to wake up, I couldn't help but let my mind drift. It had been three days since I last saw Damien, a whole seventy-two hours without laying eyes on him or tasting his lips. The images of both filled my mind, especially that boyish smile he'd given me right before kissing me and the certainty and desire in his gaze.

I shook my head, frustrated with myself.

I shouldn't be thinking about Damien or his eyes or his mouth.

Luckily, the sound of Iris padding down the hallway distracted me.

I rotated to give her an affectionate smile, taking in her green-and-white polka-dot pajamas with matching green slippers. "Good morning."

"Morning." Iris yawned and passed by me to sit on the other kitchen stool to my left.

"How was class yesterday?" I took a drink from my mug.

Since I knew she had been off from bartending last night to take a college course for her education as an ultrasound technician, I wanted to spend some time with her this morning before I headed off to the office.

"Long." Iris sighed and set her elbow on the table where she held her head up with her hand. "I have a boatload of studying to do before I work the second shift at Westland today. My professor is trying to kill me."

"I don't miss those days one bit." I scrunched up my nose and laughed even though, on the inside, I was so unbelievably proud of Iris.

She worked at Westland Medical Group full-time, she bartended at Keith's Bar & Grill at least twenty hours a week to pay extra on her college loan payments, and she was still furthering her education. She was a superwoman in my books.

"I'm more than ready for them to be over." She yawned again, and then her gaze settled on my coffee. Her spare hand glided across the countertop. "But I can think of something that will brighten my morning."

I protectively brought my mug toward my chest and glared at her. "Get your own, lady. This one's mine."

"I can't move. I'm too tired," she whined, slumping forward to bury her face in her forearms.

I knew she was playing at my heartstrings, yet I couldn't help but slip into action. She was exhausted. I rose from my seat and went around the kitchen island where I slipped a new K-Cup into our Keurig and put a coffee mug beneath it. As I waited for the machine to brew, I made Iris some toast and loaded it with butter and Jif peanut butter, her favorite. As I moved about the room, Iris was so quiet that I almost wondered if she'd dozed off.

I placed her coffee mug and plate of food off several inches to the side of her.

She lifted her head to the sound of the glass plate hitting the counter where she glanced at the items and then me, beaming. "Gosh, I love you."

"Back atcha." I winked, sitting back down in my stool.

Iris took a sip of her coffee, flinching slightly as she swallowed. "Shit, that's hot. But so yummy."

"So, are you free tonight, or do you have plans?" I asked as Iris took a bite of her toast.

She shook her head, swallowing. "I have to work second shift at Westland today, and then I picked up another four-hour shift at the bar tonight."

"Wow. No wonder you're beat."

"I am. I work Saturday, too. But I'm off on Sunday. We could veg all day or have a girls' day and go shopping?" she queried, her tone hopeful.

"Sounds perfect to me."

"So, what's new with you?" Iris pensively eyed me. "You've looked stressed the past few days."

Everything that had happened with Damien and Cale poured out of my mouth, and it felt good to finally let it out. Iris listened intently as I told her of Damien's accusations and the files he'd given me to prove that Cale had been disloyal.

"You sound quite ruffled by this Damien character," Iris noted aloud before taking another bite of her meal.

"I am, but I don't want to be," I admitted. I sighed in defeat, slouching forward. " _And_ he kissed me."

She choked and coughed on her toast, making me squirm at my confession. "He what?" __ she exclaimed.

I knew she'd heard me the first time, but I repeated myself anyway, still unable to believe it was true, "He kissed me." I forced myself not to replay the memory in my mind as I weakly attempted to defend myself, "Well, technically, Damien _told_ me that he was going to kiss me...but I let him."

"Wow," Iris said in awe. "Are you going to see him again?"

"No." I adamantly shook my head. "No, not in that way. It would be a conflict of interest." I shrugged, apprehending it was more than just work. I couldn't let Damien slip beneath my armor. I needed to stay far away from him.

"Uh-huh. I'll remember you said that," she drawled, sounding dramatic. "Besides, you do realize that you have to see Damien again to get to the bottom of his allegations, right? Did you look at the files he gave you?"

"No."

Iris showed her surprise in her facial features. "Why not?"

"Because I'm scared. What if Damien is right?" I voiced my worst fear. "Cale would be guilty of embezzling thousands upon thousands of dollars from Damien."

Iris set her hand on mine. Her eyes filled with sympathy. "Raelyn, you've put your heart, blood, sweat, and tears into growing a successful, thriving accounting business. You owe it to yourself and Adam and Jennings Accounting Services to find out the truth. You've never been one to go down without a fight. You'll win this. I promise."

"I hope so." I frowned, feeling deeply troubled. "Do you think Cale is capable of embezzlement?"

Iris's expression matched my own, and I knew it was because she was fond of Cale, too. We all went back several years. Our friendship was strong.

"Honestly, I don't have an answer for you. But why would Damien Heathman waste his time in making false accusations?"

To me, that was the million-dollar question. It didn't make sense for Damien to lie.

At my silence, Iris continued to speak, "You have to read the file, Raelyn. You know that, right?" Her voice was quiet.

I wished Iris were wrong, but I couldn't ignore the file from Heathman Enterprises any longer. I had to know the truth even if it crushed me. "Yes," I murmured. "I don't have much of a choice in the matter, do I?"

"No, honey." Iris linked her fingers with mine and squeezed. "You don't."

At the office, all morning, the file from Heathman Enterprises had taunted me from its position on the corner of my desk. It was pure torture at its finest. After I took a look at the accounts that required my attention first, I found my gaze wandering again.

CONFIDENTIAL

HEATHMAN ENTERPRISES

My fingers itched to open the folder while the rest of me was terrified of what repercussions might arise by doing so. I had a pretty good hunch that reading those documents would open a can of worms. But to intentionally keep myself in the dark wouldn't be a wise route either. I was going to have to face the storm sooner or later.

On an unshakable impulse, my hand shot forward and grabbed the thick white folder, clearly choosing sooner rather than later.

I gave my undivided attention to the spreadsheets of Heathman Enterprises where I calculated each monthly expense and revenue, and I documented my findings on a new form. Then, I flipped to the second set of documents labeled _Adam & Jennings Accounting Services_ to recalculate those totals.

After countless hours of tallying the two separate documents, I leaned back in my chair and stared at the numbers with wide eyes, attempting to wrap my head around what I was seeing. My findings were astounding and had left me speechless.

A difference of $67,584.43 was unaccounted for between the totals, with the Adam & Jennings documents being the lesser of the two.

Damien was right. A substantial sum of money was missing within his companies' overhead. Furthermore, there were twenty-seven withdrawals divided between nine accounts that precisely totaled the lost funds. Surely, it couldn't have grown legs and crawled off.

Unable to accept the totals not adding up, I whipped open the top drawer of my desk and grabbed another blank spreadsheet where I dived back in for round two. There had to be a mistake. I was missing something crucial.

I tallied the numbers again in hopes that I'd previously added them incorrectly. This time around, I wrote down the account number where each of the twenty-seven withdrawals had been transferred. They had all been deposited into the same offshore account.

When I finished, I put my face into my hands, lowered my head, and let my elbows catch my fall on a deeply troubled sigh. This was bad, really bad.

Knowing without an inkling of a doubt that one of these spreadsheets was incorrect, I maneuvered my fingers to see my papers and glanced between the two files.

_Heathman Enterprises versus Adam & Jennings Accounting Services _danced around in my head over and over again.

_Who is right? Who is lying?_

_More importantly, whom do I trust?_

I couldn't fathom why Cale would have done something like this, putting our accounting firm at stake, but it didn't make sense for Damien to make false accusations either.

"Shit," I cursed under my breath as my office door burst open. I jumped while my gaze darted up to see Cale breezing into the room.

"Hey, workaholic," Cale hummed in an upbeat tone. His long strides were quickly eating up the gap between us.

I hunched over my workspace, scrambling to cover the files without drawing too much attention to my movements. "Hi," I said with a smile, my voice coming out all squeaky and wrong.

"It's past five o'clock, so it's time to close up shop." Cale grinned and sat in the chair across from my desk. "Are you still coming out with Kate, Noah, and me tonight?"

"What?" My mind drew a blank. I was too focused on the Heathman files.

Cale looked at me oddly, and he answered, "Kate said you and Iris were coming with us to Al Fresco's Bar tonight."

I gently connected my palm with my forehead. "Shit, I'm sorry. I completely spaced it."

"No worries. You can still come with us." Cale chuckled and leaned back in his seat. He crossed his right leg over the left at the ankles, revealing his black-and-white checkered socks.

Before I could process my thoughts, Cale briefly glanced at my stack of papers and then back up at me. "What has you working so late anyway?"

"Oh, nothing specific." I shrugged casually and tapped my fingers against the wood, so he wouldn't notice they were shaking. "You know, just always playing catch-up."

"Well, good thing there's always tomorrow." He cocked his head to the side with a teasing smirk that normally would've made me laugh at my friend. "Or should I say, Monday? Either way, come hang out with us. You can ride with me, and I'll buy."

"Uh..." I fumbled for an excuse until a brilliant idea presented itself. "Actually, I can't. I have to wrap up Mr. and Mrs. Frank Vickerman's accounting for this month before their upcoming estate sale in two weeks."

Cale frowned quizzically, making me realize I'd probably just contradicted my earlier words about working on nothing specific.

_Crap_.

He must not have taken notice because he queried, "You can't finish it on Monday morning?"

"No, I really can't." I forced a laugh that was too pitchy, feeling like scum for lying through my teeth. "You know how Mrs. Vickerman can be. She wants everything done on the flip of a dime."

"That she does." Cale sighed in defeat.

I sagged in respite because I was off the hook.

Then, his eyes broadened, shimmering with delight. "Do you want me to stay with you and help, so you can get out of here, and we can still make it to the bar?"

"No, no! I'm fine!" My hands sprang out in front of me as if I were trying to prevent myself from crashing into a wall--in a sense, I was going to, headfirst. "I have other files to work on, too, so you go on ahead without me, and we'll catch up another time."

He observed me for a few moments, and I was sure my face was growing redder by the second. I was relieved when he finally acknowledged me with a nod of his head.

He rose from the chair. "All right." He cocked his head to the side and pointed at me. "But next Friday, no excuses."

"Next Friday," I agreed.

After Cale walked off, I face-planted my forehead onto my desk with a groan. I was a horrible friend, and I deserved to rot like a fungus-filled sack of potatoes for the line of trust I was about to break.

I wasn't sure why I tiptoed into Cale's office when no one was there. I couldn't help but do so as my guilty conscience ate away at me. He'd never forgive me if he knew that I was snooping behind his back.

I didn't turn on the light when I made my way over to his tall file cabinets. I went to the center one that displayed _G -N _where I opened it and quickly looked up Damien's last name.

I grabbed the folder labeled _Heathman Enterprises_ , shut the drawer, and darted out of the room, closing the door behind me. I scurried back to my office and got back to work.

Opening all three spreadsheets in front of me, I tried to see which document Cale's matched up to. It would either be accurate with Heathman Enterprises' assessment, therefore proving that Damien was being dishonest with his accusations, or it would match Damien's photocopies of the documents from Adam & Jennings that he'd given me, showing that my close friend had betrayed our joint company and my trust, effectively crumbling my world.

The total number matched Damien's photocopies of the Adam & Jennings paperwork, leaving $67,584.43 unaccounted for in the projected balance.

My trusted friend of many years had indeed done the unthinkable, stealing an obscene sum of money from Damien for just over the past four months.

"No," I cried on a strangled whisper, desperately wanting to deny what my eyes were clearly telling me. "It can't be."

At the idea of my business being in severe jeopardy, I was on the verge of hyperventilating, and I suddenly felt nauseous. I closed my eyes and forced myself to take in slow deep breaths before gradually releasing them.

There was no way Damien Heathman was going to let Cale off the hook after stealing from him, nor should he, which meant I was equally responsible for repaying all of that stolen money. Sure, I could wait to go to court, but that would undoubtedly drag my company's name and the reputation that I'd worked hard to build through the gutter. Or I would have to pay off the debt, which was more than I had left in my savings account after investing in Adam & Jennings with the gifted funds from my biological mother.

My stomach rolled and churned.

_Oh God, I need to stop thinking._ This was only making me more ill.

_How could Cale deceive me like this?_

My physical sickness was quickly replaced with anger as his betrayal cut me deeply. Before I could stop myself, I grabbed my belongings, locked up the office, and stormed toward my car.

Rage fueled my movements. I tossed my purse onto the passenger seat, started my car, and drove off in the direction of the bar where I knew my friends would be having drinks. In my rearview mirror, I saw a sports car quickly catching up behind me, and I could have sworn it was a black Mitsubishi, but I paid no further attention to it. I had a one-track mind.

I pulled into Al Fresco's Bar's parking lot and turned into the first vacant spot, noting the black car parked a few spaces away. I snatched my purse and exited the car, locking it behind me, and then I noticed Damien was running after me. I ignored him and headed for the bar while digging through my bag for my ID. His footsteps were rapidly catching up to me.

"Raelyn, wait a minute."

Damien tried to reach for my hand, but I shook him off and barreled forward.

"Leave me alone," I warned.

"No. You can't go charging in there. It could be dangerous."

I wasn't afraid of Cale, so I shot Damien an accusing glance over my shoulder. "Wait. Why are you following me?"

"To make sure you're safe," he replied, as if it were the most natural thing in the world to say to me.

It wasn't. I could take care of myself.

"Thank you for your concern, but I can look out for myself," I told him when I approached the front entrance of the building.

A massive bouncer with spiky hair and a white cutoff shirt that exposed his biceps gazed down at me, and I showed him my ID. The man opened the door for me, and I slipped into the crowd before Damien could catch me.

I maneuvered through the sea of people as my eyes scanned the crowd. The front tables were full of men and women, and others were surrounding the area. I zigzagged through any gaps I could find.

"Raelyn!" Damien yelled after me, causing me to increase my steps.

I caught a break and spotted Cale sitting at the end of a booth off to the left side of the bar, so I headed straight for him without breaking my stride.

Cale glanced up and saw me. He beamed and stood to his feet as I approached. "Hey, you made it!"

I didn't give him the satisfaction of greeting him. Instead, I connected my palm with the side of his cheek, slapping him hard across his face. "You son of a bitch!" I yelled.

Damien pulled me back against his firm chest. His body was tense and rigid.

Kate let out a gasp in the background.

Cale staggered back in shock, hitting the side of his body on the upper part of the booth. "What the fuck, Raelyn?" he shouted, outraged. He threw his palm over the pink mark I had left on his skin before rising to his full height once again. "What in the hell has gotten into you?" he slurred drunkenly.

When Cale advanced my way, Damien stepped to my side while still keeping his hold on me. "Stay right there, Cale, or so help me God, I'll fucking put you six feet under," he threatened in a bone-chilling deep tone, making me believe his promise.

Cale's eyes bulged as he finally spotted Damien.

I cut in before Cale could dig himself into a deeper hole, "How could you?" I looked into the eyes of my friend. "I trusted you!"

"And what exactly did this guy say to make you believe I've broken your trust? Did he also tell you that he uses women and tosses them aside like bags of trash?" Cale laughed humorously with his attention darting between Damien and me. "If you want a list of fuck-ups, you should be looking at Damien, not me. I've done nothing wrong."

The fact that Cale was in attack mode at his so-called friend put me on instant guard. I just wanted this evening to be over with, so I told him, "Stay out of my building, Cale. You're not welcome there until we figure this out." My voice resounded with defeat as I pressed myself into Damien, not wanting to be so close to Cale.

Cale looked worried from my retreat, and he inched forward. "It's not what you think, Rae," he said desperately, using my nickname. "Please, just let me explain."

His appearance told me everything I needed to know. He was guilty. My world as I'd once known it was undeniably crumbling. "I don't want to hear it. And make sure you hire a good attorney. You'll need one." I pivoted on my heel and headed toward the exit, prepared to leave.

"Don't threaten me, you sick bitch. If anyone should be concerned, it's you." Cale's menacing tone halted me in my tracks, causing me to instantly stiffen at his hurtful idea of a joke.

I gradually forced myself to spin around and look him dead in the eyes where I saw his own intoxicated ones widen with clarity.

"Sick bitch..." He rolled with laughter that made my heart turn to ice. "How fitting!"

Before I could process what was happening, Damien charged toward Cale and tackled him with a loud thud as their bodies collided. The two of them stumbled into the booth before slamming onto the floor. Damien straddled Cale's waist and cocked back his right arm before sending his fist forward to deliver a hard blow to Cale's cheek as I watched, frozen in utter horror.

Cale's head snapped back, and when he lifted it, Damien punched him again, moving with skill.

"You'll fucking leave her alone," Damien seethed, delivering a third hit to Cale's jaw.

I forced my limbs to snap into action. I ran and latched on to Damien's shoulders where I yanked him backward, mindful of his powerful movements. "Stop, Damien! Stop!"

Damien's arm paused midair, and he rotated to face me. His eyes were frighteningly dark, and his breath was coming and going with labored actions. Cale lay beneath him, staring up at me with a shocked expression. Kate and Noah were still seated in the booth, watching the scene unfold before their eyes, appearing stunned into silence. There was a shout here and there in the distance, and I was sure the bouncers were making their way through the crowd.

"Please stop," I pleaded on a whispered cry.

Damien dropped his head and slowly nodded before rising to his feet. His suit was creased, so he flexed his shoulders to readjust it, and then he straightened his tie. He tilted his head down at Cale and glared at him. "You have no one to blame for this but yourself, Cale. Only a coward steals to make a quick buck."

Cale didn't respond.

Damien took my arm and guided me out of the bar. "Let's get out of here."

It wasn't even close to a "quick buck," but I wasn't about to correct Damien in his state of mind.

The crowd parted for us, and Damien and I passed two large bouncers as we wordlessly slithered our way toward the exit.

Once outside, the fresh air hit me, and I inhaled deeply. I hadn't known what to expect when I went into the bar, asking for trouble, but it surely hadn't been _that._

When I went to turn toward my car, Damien's hold on me didn't ease up.

"What are you doing?" I asked nervously.

"You're coming with me," he stated matter-of-factly, leaving no room for argument.

"I am not." I tried to pull myself free, suddenly irritated with him for being here in the first place. "Why were you following me? Have you been watching me?" I asked. Even though the answer was clear as day, I didn't think he should get off so easily.

"Of course I've been keeping an eye on you," he deadpanned, as if it were no big deal. "I showed you proof that your partner stole nearly seventy grand from me. I wasn't going to leave you unprotected."

We reached his car, and the black paint shimmered under the lampposts.

"Cale would never hurt me," I argued.

He might be a thief, but that didn't make him a threat--or at least, I hoped not.

Damien shot me a disbelieving look. "You have no idea what Cale might do, and neither do I. He's in debt up to his ass, his company is at stake, and he's facing felony charges." He unlocked his car and opened the passenger door for me. "When someone's freedom is at risk, that makes them unpredictable and a threat."

My mind was on overload. I wanted to deny the severity of the situation. I felt like I was stuck in a nightmare, and exhaustion was quickly settling in.

At my speechlessness, Damien gestured to the passenger seat. "Get in."

"No." I shook my head, appalled by his domineering tone. He had no right to order me around. _But why does it make him sound and look so sexy, especially when his jaw twitches in exasperation?_

He countered, "Now, Raelyn."

I gaped at him and straightened my spine, prepared to stand my ground. "I said, no."

Damien stepped into my personal space, causing my breath to catch in my lungs, as he raised his hand to my chin and tipped it up to his face. His lips were so close to mine.

"Let's get one thing straight while we're standing here," he murmured, softly caressing my skin with his callous hand. "Whether he is your friend or not, until I figure this out, I'm not willing to take any chances where you're concerned."

His thumb brushed over my lower lip, his gaze lingering on his deliberate movement, before he looked back at me. The purity of his desire was evident in his eyes. My breathing accelerated, and my blood sizzled with a rush of untamable need.

Ever so slowly, he closed the gap and pressed his mouth to mine, claiming my lips. Delicious sparks took flight in my belly, and I sank into our embrace. His tongue parted my lips where he swept it back and forth over mine, tenderly at first and then increasing his pressure. He was taking what he wanted but giving me back so much more.

All too soon, he gave my lower lip a soft tug and drew back. "Understood?"

With intense concentration, I mentally backtracked to remember what he was talking about. It took me a moment to fight through my lust-filled mind until I eventually succeeded.

He wasn't willing to take any risks with my safety. I didn't have the strength or inclination to argue with him.

"Yes," I breathed, nodding my head.

"Good." He unleashed a breathtaking smile and guided me into his car. "In you go."

After he shut the door, I fumbled with my seat belt and attempted to gather my scattered wits. It was no use.

Damien Heathman had stormed into my life, and I had a profound feeling that he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. 

#

After fifteen minutes of driving out of town, I was surprised to see Damien driving along the same strip that he had when we went for a walk on the beach. I was even more shocked when he made a left turn into a private driveway a few miles up the coastline. This had to be within a half mile of where we'd gone swimming in the water.

I gave Damien an incredulous look as he came to a stop at an automatic wrought iron gate. He rolled down his window and entered a key code. Before I could verbalize my reservations about him bringing me here, my attention was quickly distracted by the spectacular view surrounding me.

The entire property was enclosed by a stone wall that must have been at least six feet tall. It looked aged, yet it held a magnificent rustic beauty. The black gate gradually swung open, and Damien accelerated up a driveway made of light-colored concrete pavers with a darker pattern around the edge. Gorgeous palm trees lined either side of us.

Damien curved to the left as the path rounded, and I lost my breath when a two-story home came into my line of vision. It was made of stucco with a ceramic-tiled roof, giving it that Southwestern cozy feel.

The driveway veered again, this time to the right, where there was a four-car garage connected to the home with a breezeway between the two buildings. Damien elevated his arm and tapped a small button on the roof of his car, opening the first garage door.

He pulled in the vacant space and parked the car. We both exited, and I immediately noticed another black sports car next to us. Beyond that, there was a huge four-door black GMC Sierra, and the last stall stored a black speedboat with cream leather interior. I recalled that all his tattoos were also black with not a single inch of color.

I let my gaze drift back to Damien. He was quietly studying me from the front end of the R8.

As he neared, I was eager to fill the silence, so I told him, "I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that black is your favorite color."

"That would be correct." Damien grinned for the first time, causing my own smile to reveal itself.

Black was a stunning hue even though, in all actuality, it wasn't technically a color at all. For some unexplainable reason, it seemed to suit him well.

I acknowledged his statement with a tilt of my head, unsure of what else to say. Nerves were beginning to seep into my pores at being in Damien's home, and I suddenly felt like I was way in over my head.

I was about to voice my concerns when Damien came to my side and set his hand on my back.

All previous thoughts dissipated into thin air as he said, "Come on. You must be hungry."

"Okay." I tried to keep my voice from squeaking.

He guided me toward a side entrance where he opened it and led me through the short breezeway. The large archway on both sides of us allowed natural lighting to flow into the area.

We came to another door with a keypad. Damien punched in a code and then rotated the handle to let us into the home. Again, I was floored with what was before my eyes as my feet carried me forward through the foyer and into a great room.

All the walls were an earthy cream tone, and they were vibrantly decorated with landscape paintings, yet the hardwood was extremely dark, almost the color of charcoal, and appeared to be slightly textured. I'd never seen anything quite like it before.

I followed Damien past a black leather couch and sofa where we entered the kitchen. He pulled out a black leather stool for me to sit down, so I did.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome." He walked around me and went to the fridge where he opened it. His eyes appeared to scan the contents before glancing over his shoulder at me. "Do you like stir-fry with chicken, rice, and bell peppers?"

"Sure."

Damien set about the kitchen, working fast and efficiently. The chicken and peppers were sliced with precision and tossed into a frying pan where they cooked along with the water and rice.

He rotated between checking on the food and setting the table with two sets of plates, utensils, and wine glasses before retrieving two bowls of fresh fruit from the fridge and placing them in the center of the counter. All I could do was watch, captivated by his graceful movements and the way he carried himself. I felt bad for not offering to help, but I had no idea where anything was, so I would only be in his way.

When the food was finally finished cooking, Damien brought the hot pan over to me and scooped the food onto my plate and his before setting it back on the stove. Then, he sat beside me in the spare stool.

"Did you decorate your home yourself, or did you have an interior designer?"

"Just me," Damien said softly. He lifted his fork before turning to look at me with uncertainty. "Too much black?" he asked, as if reading my mind.

In all honesty, it wasn't overpowering. It really did fit him well. It had just been more of a surprise than anything.

"No," I replied. I stared down at my food, preparing to take a bite. I hadn't eaten since lunch, and I was starving.

"I had a few art classes as my electives back in college. They came in handy when I bought this place."

"How long have you owned it?" I took a sip of my wine.

"For two and a half years. I've pretty much remodeled most of the estate while trying to keep some of its original brilliance." He filled his fork with food and took a bite.

"You've done a wonderful job," I complimented him before digging into my food.

"Thanks."

For the rest of the meal, we ate in a comfortable silence. By the time we were done, I found myself feeling at ease. I helped him load the dishwasher, and I wiped down the countertops.

It was dark by the time we went out onto the back terrace. With each of us carrying a wine glass, he led me toward a patio set. The walkway was stamped concrete with all sizes of hexagons embedded into the design. Lighting around the edges of the path and the moon sparkling brightly in the sky provided the only illumination around us.

I instinctively veered toward a plush double-wide lounge chair. It looked heavenly. I was utterly stunned when Damien sat next to me in a way that our bodies happened to brush against one another.

I wasn't sure if I was awed more by my surroundings or by the man touching me and making my heart do wicked things in my chest. I was positive it was the latter, yet I forced myself to tuck that observation into the deepest part of my mind as I focused on the view before me.

There was a rectangular in-ground pool off to the side, and it was long enough to swim laps in. A stone walkway led to the ocean, which was about thirty yards straight in front of us. The waves were larger today as they rolled onto the beach.

It reminded me that we hadn't been too far from this exact location just days ago, so I let myself take a peek at Damien to ask, "Why did you bring me here the other day?"

Damien took a sip of his wine while gazing out at the water. My eyes greedily drank in the sight of him as the seconds ticked by, taking in the set of his eyes that appeared to be deep in thought, while he carefully sought out his response.

As he turned those handsome eyes on me, riveting me, my breathing hitched in my throat.

"I'm not sure." His shoulders rose and fell. "I just wanted to bring you someplace quiet, somewhere I could be myself, where it would just be the two of us."

His reasons were understandable, yet they made another question rush to my lips. "You like the quietness, don't you?"

I was almost positive I knew his answer. Most people wouldn't commute thirty minutes to and from work if they didn't like a sense of peace.

"Yes. I need a place to unwind, away from the city," he murmured, as if confessing a secret. "It's part of who I am."

I wished he would divulge more of himself to me, but I perceived it was something Damien didn't do frequently or so easily with others. He was confounding. My reflection led to my next conclusion.

Damien living outside of the city was not at all what I'd pictured in my mind, especially with his demanding career. He could afford to live anywhere.

"I must say that this"--I gestured around me--"is not what I expected. _You_ are not what I expected." My voice was but a whisper.

Damien went still beside me. Then, with deliberately slow movements, he sat up and pivoted, bending his left knee to put my legs atop his.

His stare was a little apprehensive. "And what did you imagine?"

"I...I don't know," I stammered on a shy shrug. My cheeks heated as I suddenly felt wary to voice my feelings. I took a sip of my wine and diverted my gaze away from his penetrating one to see the waves crashing in. "I guess I envisioned a CEO living in the city for convenience, an elaborate top-story penthouse with someone to drive him around, and maybe even a housekeeper or a private cook." I hadn't anticipated him living an ordinary lifestyle. It was admirable and refreshing.

The hushed air that descended over us was unnerving until Damien finally spoke, "Well, you're wrong, Raelyn. This is me. It's all I need, not some castle with butlers and shit." His tone was filled with an edginess I couldn't decrypt.

I instantly felt bad for giving him the wrong impression. I was about to apologize until his spare hand seemed to have a mind of its own, and it began to caress small circles just above my kneecap.

He queried, "Are you disappointed?"

I wanted to move my leg, but I was melting beneath his touch. "No, of course not. I love that you have a _home_ with beautiful furnishings that are soft and inviting and real, not a museum." I smirked at him. "Even if ninety-nine point nine percent of your belongings are black."

His lips twitched, making them look edible. I restrained myself from leaning forward to taste them.

It didn't matter though. Damien was already coming toward me. He clasped either side of my face to hold me in place, his fingertips skimming along my skin.

"So...that's a compliment?" he breathed, his mouth centimeters from mine.

That familiar feeling returned, and my body hummed for contact--or maybe it was the wine making me brave. Either way, I'd lost all sensibleness around Damien Heathman. To top it off, I believed that he was a complicated man who hid his true self from the world...yet I couldn't help but feel he was letting me in and showing me a reserved portion of himself.

An array of emotions along with a yearning to kiss him flared inside me.

"Definitely," I answered at last before leaning forward to tentatively press my lips against his.

For five whole seconds, Damien let me control our embrace where I teased and licked at his lips, leisurely exploring him. It was divine. Then, he took over our embrace, and my world imploded. He didn't just kiss me. He devoured me, claiming my mouth for his own taking, as if showing me exactly how much he wanted me.

I was equally drawn to him, and my body reacted impulsively. My fingers found his hair, and I tightly pulled him to me as my tongue met each of his powerful strokes.

Damien broke our connection first. He grasped my nape and leaned his forehead against mine, closing his eyes. The only noise around us, besides the water, was both of us heaving for air.

"I wasn't expecting you either, Raelyn," he admitted on a rushed breath. His voice was heavy with emotion. "But I'll be damned if I have any intentions of letting you get away."

Even if I'd tried, I had no words at his revelation. So, when he set his arm around my shoulder and repositioned himself to lean back against the lounge chair, I put up no resistance. I fell willingly into his arm and snuggled into his side.

It wasn't until I drifted to sleep that I realized I was in grave trouble.

I was falling into Damien's arms in more ways than one, and I wanted to scream for help, yet I seemed to be the one throwing myself over the edge. And only I could save myself. 

#

My eyes began to flutter, and I was pulled out of my deep slumber against my wishes. I was so tired, yet as I fidgeted in my sleep, I became achingly aware that my surroundings were different. The mattress and pillow beneath me were both far too soft for a lounge chair.

I bolted upright, startled. My eyes rapidly assessed the room where I immediately realized I was in a bedroom. I grasped at the comforter and hauled it to my chest while hastily casting my eyes to either side of me. I exhaled on a whoosh when I learned I was unaccompanied.

I took in the rest of the room once again. There was a dresser and armoire, both solid wood, illuminated by a light. My gaze followed where the rays were coming from, and I saw what I assumed was a bathroom entrance. There was a large antique walnut chair with white upholstery that resided just outside the doorframe. A dress shirt and pair of slacks had been casually tossed over the top of the furniture. Those clothes looked like they'd been worn, and it was becoming clear that this was not a guest room. This had to be Damien's bedroom.

An overwhelming urge to flee took over. I leaped from the mattress and nearly staggered on my feet from rising too fast. There was no lingering sleepy haze to shake away though. I was wide-awake and mad, fuming mad.

_Where is he?_

My hair fell forward onto my face, so I elevated my arm to swipe it away. Only, my hand was buried in a sleeve that was far too long and baggy to be my own. I gaped at it in horror. It was a white dress shirt made of fine threads, and it belonged to a certain individual.

Before I knew what was happening, I was stomping toward the doorway where I breezed through it and ran down the hallway in a fury. Damien Heathman was going to have a piece of my mind when I laid eyes on him. He'd put me in _his_ bed, and worse, he'd changed my clothes.

This was wrong on so many levels.

I came to an abrupt halt at the end of a landing. There was a curving staircase made of dark iron with small lights at the base of each step, giving them a soft glow. I would have found it a rather intricate touch to the house if I wasn't boiling to the brim with frustration. I tuned out my observation and flew down the stairs.

After several minutes of searching where I came across an office, kitchen, great room, sunroom, and two spare bedrooms--that I duly noted were crammed with an array of belongings--I headed for the terrace, only to find that empty, too.

I released an exasperated sigh and collapsed on the patio lounge. I just needed to take a few calming deep breaths to gather my scattered wits, so I could figure out what to do next. My cell phone along with my purse were in Damien's car. I'd have to go grab them and call a cab because there was no way I'd feel comfortable staying here by myself.

I rose from my position and started to pivot toward the door. From the corner of my eye, I spotted Damien slowly walking up the beach in the direction of the house. His hands were tucked into the front pockets of his slacks that he was still wearing from last night. The way he was staring down at the sand gave me the impression that he was lost in thought.

He was halfway to the house when he finally chanced a glance up, and his steps briefly faltered at the sight of me. He smiled a warm tender smile as he began to close the distance between us. "You're awake," he said with that handsome expression still in place.

But I refused to be deterred by his sweet, dazzling charm.

"What is wrong with you?" I verbally lashed out at him, unable to keep my cool. "What, in your right mind, would make you think it was okay to put me in your bed?" I simply couldn't reciprocate his sentiments and think this was okay. It wasn't.

"You looked uncomfortable sleeping on the lounge chair. Both of my spare bedrooms are jam-packed with shit, so I put you in my room." He came closer. His gaze roamed over my body, instantly glazing over with appreciation. "And because I wanted you there. It felt like that was where you belonged." He set his hand on my waist and gradually glided his palm up my side.

His touch made me crazy and delirious with an all-consuming passionate desire. I needed to keep a clear head, so I put some space between us, and his hand was forced to drop to his side.

Narrowing my eyes at the latter part of his speech, I said, "That's ridiculous. You don't even know me." I stepped forward to poke an accusing finger against his solid chest. "We shared a few kisses, Damien. That doesn't mean we'll share a fucking bed." I was on a roll, so I kept going, "And __ you changed my clothes. How dare you!"

"It's not like you were naked. I was a gentleman and left your undergarments on," Damien retorted in his defense, gently shooing my hand away.

Then, he advanced with determination. One hand came to the small of my back where he flattened his palm and pressed me flush against his body. I stifled a moan at feeling his generous hard length rubbing against my stomach.

"And do not fucking lie to me, Raelyn. You can't deny this attraction between us any more than I can." His free hand ran up my side once again before he softly took my nape to tilt my head to the side, giving him access to my throat. His hot mouth connected with my bare skin, nipping and kissing and sucking a trail to my jaw. "You feel it, too. Don't you?"

_Oh God._ My head fell backward on a hushed whimper, and my knees nearly buckled. The air was coming and going from my lungs with erratic breaths while a delicious warm heat pooled between my thighs.

He was a shock to my system.

"I asked you a question, Raelyn." His lips delicately brushed along mine, and he gently tugged on my lower lip before releasing it. "And I want an answer."

His eyes bored into mine with a scorching passion that sent my pulse rate skyrocketing.

_"I wasn't expecting you either, Raelyn."_ His earlier admission washed over my skin like a soothing soft caress, and it seized all of my rational logic away with it, overpowering my senses.

"Yes," I whispered on a defeated cry, caving to my body's demands. I wanted him. I was desperate for him to make me feel.

I'd barely voiced my answer when Damien's mouth crashed down on mine again. He grabbed either side of my hips and hoisted me up into his arms.

I linked my legs around his back to snugly hold on to him while still kissing him as he journeyed into the house. Our tongues clashed and stroked one another. He kicked his foot on something and grunted a string of curse words into my mouth, making me laugh. Then, he caught himself by spinning around before pressing my torso against the nearest wall.

Damien resumed kissing me with urgency. He used his upper thighs to leverage me as his hands fumbled with the buttons on the front of his white dress shirt that I was wearing.

He must have lost his patience because he grabbed the shirt with his hands and unexpectedly ripped it open. I gasped along his lips as the pieces of circular plastic went flying before scattering across the hardwood floor.

His hands glided around my center and unclasped my bra, baring my breasts to his hungry gaze. He flung the lace off to the side without a backward glance.

"God, Raelyn. You're even more beautiful than I imagined." His voice was raw with appreciation and lust.

Bending at the waist, he leaned forward and captured my left nipple where he licked a perfect circle with his tongue. It instantly hardened, and my head fell back against the wall with a soft thud. I moaned out in pure pleasure when he drew the stiff peak into his mouth and sucked.

"Fuck," Damien grunted. He gave my nipple a gentle tug and then released it. "I want you in my bed."

Then, his lips were on mine again, and we were moving through the house. He climbed the staircase with purposeful strides. Each of his muscles flexed beneath me as he effortlessly carried me in his arms.

He entered his room, carried me to his bed, and lowered me onto his mattress. His expression went serious as he climbed over me and straddled my waist, perusing me. "Are you sure?"

"Yes." I nodded, reaching for his belt to remove it.

I unfastened his pants, and he helped me guide them down his toned long legs. He grabbed a condom out of his pocket before tossing the material aside. As he sheathed himself, I went to unbutton the front of his shirt.

He finished his task and lightly pushed my hands away. "Not the shirt."

Completely hurt by his demand, my brows drew together. "But I want to see you--all of you."

"No." His tone was absolute.

My frown deepened. I desperately yearned to make my feelings known. I would never judge him for the markings on his body. I'd simply been saddened to feel them.

Damien appeared to sense my distress. He took my hands in his, linked our fingers together, and kissed both sets of my knuckles. "Take me as I am, Raelyn," he murmured, looking me straight in the eyes.

He raised our joined arms above my head. His movements pressed our bodies flush against one another as he braced most of his weight on his forearms. I could feel his heart slamming against his rib cage along my breasts while his rock-hard erection pulsated against my core.

But all that mattered in this moment was his plea. It was nearly my undoing. I wanted to tell him that I did accept him--scars and all--that we all had them, whether they were visible or not. But instincts told me not to push him, not today.

"Please let go of my hands," I said, studying his features with beseeching eyes.

"Don't take off my shirt." His own gaze was impassive, but he couldn't conceal his underlying fear from me. He was so tense.

"I won't," I promised.

He hesitated a brief second before letting go of me. I lowered my elbows to my sides and then reached forward to cup both of his cheeks. He closed his eyes as I stroked them, reveling in the scruffiness of his facial hair.

It was an intimate act, yet I was trying to silently show him that I was not judging the markings on his flesh, that I accepted all of him, and that he could trust me, all without using my voice. His body relaxed under my touch, and he seemed content.

Once I felt I'd conveyed my feelings, I brought his face toward mine and told him, "Take me, Damien."

It was all he needed because, in the next second, our mouths were on each other. I'd expected fireworks and the earth to tilt on its axis with a burst of pent-up lust, but neither happened. Instead, our passionate embrace was so much more powerful. My heart shifted, and the shield I'd worked so hard to build around it completely shattered and obliterated into dust.

My lips molded to his. They were a perfect fit. An insatiable need and longing spread through every nerve ending inside me. I was aching for him to fill me.

He broke our kiss and slightly scooted his way down the bed. The pad of his index finger lazily traveled from my collarbone to my breast. He was taking his time, as if he were memorizing every inch of me. An endless array of sparks ignited in the wake of his touch, only to be soon replaced with his mouth. My back bowed off the bed, and I cried out.

"Your body is incredibly responsive to my touch." His voice was low and rough as he continued his descent to the center of my stomach. The tip of his tongue expertly swirled around my navel. "It's so fucking sexy to watch."

"Damien." I fought for air and clenched at the satin bedsheet around me as I writhed with pleasure, hoping he'd get the hint of what I was asking for.

"Not yet," he replied throatily, reaching the apex of my thighs. "I have to taste you first."

His tongue connected with my clitoris, and he began a torturous, languid pace of teasing and lapping at the most sensitive part of my body. Each and every muscle in my abdomen tingled and tightened with anticipation. He gently pressed a finger inside me, stretching me slightly, before sliding in a second, as if preparing me for what was to come. My inner walls instantly clenched around him, milking him, with my arousal.

He moved in and out of me as his tongue continued to make slow, sensual sweeping passes over my pulsing nub. My skin broke out in a light sheen of sweat. My hips had a mind of their own as I rocked my pelvis up to match his movements.

When he curled his finger along my sensitive spot and softly drew my clitoris into his mouth, I had no choice but to let go. I cried out as my orgasm rushed through me, coating me with a warm essence.

Rising to his knees and lifting his shirt out of the way, Damien took his impressive length in his hand and leisurely stroked himself from root to tip, once and then a second time. His eyes were glazed over with pure want and unrequited hunger. I was riveted by the sight of him.

The sexual tension in the air was thick.

My heart was drumming in my chest at a dangerous speed, my blood was thrumming forcefully in my veins, and my core was pulsing with a blistering need all over again.

He nudged my thighs apart with his own. The head of his thick cock gently brushed along my clitoris before he glided it between my folds and all the way down to my sex with deliberate teasing movements. Ever so leisurely, he pushed into me and filled me one sensational inch at a time, stealing my breath.

When he was buried to the hilt, he stilled, and a violent shudder raked through him. "Fuck, you're so tight, Raelyn," he groaned, heady and deep. His upper body fell forward. He caught himself with his palms on the mattress.

The fullness of him was incredible, and I lost all sense of reason.

"Move," I begged along his lips. "Please move."

Without thought, my hands went to his shoulders, but he didn't seem to mind me touching him there with his shirt separating us.

Damien receded to the tip of his length and then thrust back inside me, emanating a moan from both of us. He repeated his motions again. This time, I lifted my hips to meet him, and my muscles begin to adjust to his thick girth.

Our labored breaths mingled together, and our bodies quickly became attuned with one another as we fell into a steady rhythm. As he pushed and pulled against my tender tissues, with each pass, a delicious friction built inside me.

With his face and mine only a few centimeters apart, we looked deep into one another's eyes. I bared myself to him and let him see my true emotions as we moved together. I felt as if he could see into my soul, see the real me, and it made my heart expand more in my chest.

Nothing had ever felt so right. With him, for the first time in my life, I felt like I was where I was supposed to be. I felt like I was his even if only for this moment.

I came closer and closer to the brink of another impending release when Damien gently seized my hip and shifted his angle. His mouth sealed over mine, and he tenderly kissed me, as if I were a delicate possession.

My orgasm took hold of me, and I tipped over the peak, spiraling out of control. I was all sensations from head to toe. He swallowed my cries and groaned out his own release.

We each took a few minutes to catch our breaths, revealing in the afterglow. When Damien rolled onto his back and pulled me into his chest, I went willingly into his arms.

It was there I fell into a peaceful slumber while hearing the steady beat of his heart beneath me.

There was nowhere else I wanted to be. 

#

As I came to, I saw the sun beaming brightly into the room. A warm body was wrapped around my own, caging me in.

All too soon, the aftereffects of what I'd done last night came crashing down on me. I shouldn't be here, cuddling in bed with a man I barely knew. It had been reckless and foolish. _I_ had been foolish.

Plus, I'd broken the ultimate golden rule of not mixing business with pleasure. Damien and I had a complicated road ahead of us with Cale's betrayal of embezzlement. I couldn't allow myself to further tangle my emotions with Damien beyond our working relationship.

So, I gave myself one more minute to relish in the feel of Damien holding me before I caved to the overwhelming urge to flee. I gingerly lifted Damien's arm from my waist and returned it to his side. Then, I maneuvered myself to the edge of the bed where I rose to my feet. I found my clothes neatly folded on top of his dresser and slipped them on.

I made my way to the door where I glanced over my shoulder and saw Damien still fast asleep. His hair was ruffled with sleep, and his face wore a peaceful and tranquil expression. I bit my lip and resisted the urge to crawl back into his arms.

I left his bedroom, and I went down the staircase, through the kitchen, and across the breezeway to Damien's garage where I opened his passenger door to retrieve my belongings. I slid my finger across my screen and saw that I had missed two texts from Iris.

The first was from last night.

Iris: Are you coming home soon?

And the second had been sent an hour ago.

Iris: Where are you? Are you okay?

I typed out a reply.

Me: Yes, I'm fine. Can you pick me up?

Her response was immediate.

Iris: Sure. Where are you?

I opened the Find Me app on my iPhone, took a screenshot of my location, and forwarded it to her.

Iris: K. I'll be there in thirty.

I let out a relieved sigh.

Me: Thank you.

I slipped my phone back into my bag, exited the garage, and backtracked inside to the kitchen, knowing exactly what needed to be done.

I couldn't risk losing my company, so I did what I felt was right and pulled out my checkbook and pen from my purse. I addressed the check to Damien Heathman for forty thousand dollars while making a mental note to transfer the money from my savings to my checking account first thing on Monday morning. It would be nearly everything I had left from the inheritance from my mother. On the memo line, I wrote that I'd pay him the remaining balance as soon as I could.

My fingers trembled as I tore out the check and set it on the granite countertop, praying that Damien would accept my repayment offering of the stolen funds on my company's behalf and not pursue legal action. I'd have to sort out how to recuperate my money from Cale on my own.

I itched to leave Damien a note, apologizing for leaving and possibly explaining why I had to leave, but I instantly shoved the thought aside. It had to be this way.

My phone vibrated in my bag, making me reach for it. It was another text message.

Iris: Just left our apartment. I'll call you when I'm close.

Me: K.

Before I could overthink, I quietly made my escape.

Sunday afternoon, Iris and I rummaged through all the women's clothes racks at Dillard's in search of the perfect dress for her to wear to her second cousin's wedding next weekend in North Carolina. This was our third store, and so far, we'd been unsuccessful in finding her a cute outfit.

"Would you mind telling me what in the heck yesterday was about before I lose my mind?" Iris asked for the hundredth time since she'd helped rescue me from Damien's house.

I'd managed to successfully dodge all her questions until now, and that was only because Iris had been in a hurry to get me back to the apartment yesterday morning, so she could get to work on time.

"I told you, Iris. It's a long story, and I don't want to bore you." I gave it one last feeble attempt to brush her off and save myself from an overwhelming embarrassment as I held up another selection for her--a cute spaghetti-strap dress.

"No way in hell would I ever wear that." Iris shook her head at me in disgust, making me laugh. "And quit giving me the runaround, Raelyn. My life consists of studying and work followed by more work, so please let me live vicariously through you."

I found a satin dress that was a stunning shade of green. It had only one shoulder strap with a matching colored flower sewn on it. It wasn't overly flashy, yet it was eye-catching. "This one would look amazing on you with your hazel eyes," I told her, completely enthralled by my finding.

"Wow, I love that." Iris came over to me and studied the garment beside me. "Oh my heavens, my boobs would look fantastic in it, paired with a nice sturdy push-up bra."

I chuckled in amusement.

Iris outstretched her hand to playfully snatch the hanger from me. "I'll take this. Thank you." She beamed and then narrowed her gaze at me. "Now, spit it out, Raelyn. I want all the dirty details from Friday night."

I sighed in defeat at her relentless persistence. "I slept with him."

"Who?" she asked. Then, her jaw nearly hit the floor when realization finally dawned on her. "Damien? You slept with Damien? The same man who owns Heathman Enterprises that Cale stole obscene amounts of money from?"

Her shock and short summary of the messed up situation did nothing to ease my concerns. "That's the one."

"Holy shit!" she exclaimed loudly.

"Iris!" I chided, rapidly scanning the department store to make sure no bystanders were within earshot of us.

To my dismay, three women in their mid-thirties were staring at us. My face flamed bright cherry-red, and I sheepishly murmured, "Sorry."

The ladies went back to shopping.

Iris tugged on my arm, yanking me toward her. "Raelyn, is it serious with this guy?" she whispered.

"Gosh, no," I answered. "Iris, you know me better than that. I can't be serious with anyone." But as I said the words, an indescribable odd feeling settled over me.

Iris shook her head. "That's what everyone says right before they fall in love."

"Don't be ridiculous." I theatrically rolled my eyes. "Love is but a fuzzy feeling that fades when you need it the most."

Iris and I'd had this argument many times, and it was always the same. She couldn't accept that I'd never let myself travel down that path again.

"You're hopeless." Iris teasingly shoved past me en route to the dressing rooms.

"I know." I laughed, chasing after her. "But you still love me anyway!"

Iris flew into the first available dressing room where she entered it and locked the door behind her. I leaned my shoulder against the nearest wall in the waiting area.

"So, tell me, what does this Damien guy look like?" she demanded from the other side of the stall.

"Mmm," I sighed dreamily. A smile spread across my face. I tried to stifle it, but it was hopeless.

"I'm going to take it, he's hot?" Iris's giggle reverberated through the confined space.

I could hear her shuffling in and out of clothes.

"Very," I agreed as I stared blankly at the clothing rack in front of me while picturing his handsome face in my mind. "He has the rarest, most beautiful eye color I've ever seen, and I find myself often sinking into the depths of them."

"I can't wait to meet this guy."

Normally, I would have argued with her, but I was too busy finding another trait about him that I was attracted to. "He carries this certain persona about him that pulls me in. I seem to be drawn to him with an unshakable magnetic force. And when he touches me, I lose all sensibility."

"Whoa," she whispered. "That sounds intense."

"It is," I admitted, terrified of the truth behind her words. "And he has tattoos."

"Oh, I love a man with ink."

"Me, too." My light expression was replaced with a frown.

I was heartbroken that Damien had found the need to hide that part of himself from me. I sincerely wished I could rewind the clock and not react the way I had when I felt his scars. I yearned for him to believe that I accepted his body and him the way that he was. I still couldn't help but wonder where they'd come from, yet the thought of someone hurting Damien and the agony I felt inside over it overcame my curiosity.

Iris snatched me out of my thoughts when she threw open the door and twirled around. "What do you think?"

"Sexy lady." I whistled.

She waved her hand at me with a hint of sass as she smirked. "Don't tease."

"Iris, you look amazing."

"Well, that might be, but I can't breathe." She yanked at the silk material hugging her center and hips, and it snapped back into place when she let it go. "Seriously, my ass has grown at least three inches in diameter. I think I need the next size up...or maybe two sizes up, or else I'm going to pass out from the lack of oxygen to my brain."

"Okay, I'll be right back." I marched out of the changing room, zigzagged through the racks, and went to the exact location where I'd found the dress to grab the next two sizes.

With the items in my grasp, I spun on my heels and headed back in the direction from where I'd come. When I made a left around a clothing rack, a tall body stepped out in front of me. I instinctively jumped to the side and smacked into the metal bar of the rack on a loud shriek. I tried to regain my balance, but it was too late. I fell straight into the clothes and slammed my right thigh against another piece of unforgiving metal at the bottom of the rack.

A body crouched down before me and attempted to dig through the garments as the person said, "Are you all right, miss?"

My body froze at the sound of the man's voice. I would know that voice anywhere even though I hadn't heard it in over nine months.

"Raelyn?" My ex-fiancé's blue eyes widened in shock when he saw my face.

"Nick." I heard the despondency in my brief greeting as I clutched Iris's dresses in my palms, and I began to rise to my feet.

Nick extended his hand to me. "Here, let me help you."

"No, thank you. I'm good." I threw my hands forward, splaying the gowns out in front of my body, as though it were a defensive shield, while simultaneously rebuilding the walls around my heart. Any chance that Damien had had of knocking them down was now gone.

All movements from Nick stopped as I scrambled and ducked around him to head to the changing room.

"Raelyn, stop. Don't just run away from me. Talk to me," he commanded in a stern tone from behind me.

I skidded to a halt and shot him an ominous cold glare over my shoulder. "You lost the right to throw demands at me when you walked out on me. Good-bye, Nick."

Before he could argue, I ran toward the dressing room just as Iris opened the stall door.

"What happened to you?" Her gaze looked concerned. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

I had, but this was Iris's day. I didn't want to burden her with the troubles of my past, so I handed her the dresses and replied, "I'm fine. Here, try these on."

I was anything but fine though. 

#

The first half of the week I was slammed with managing my accounts and attending to any urgent matters that arose at work. I dealt with taking over Cale's phone calls from clients, and I met with my attorney to discuss options on how to proceed with my partner. He'd yet to show his face at the office, and I was grateful that he hadn't because I wasn't sure how to handle him yet.

Running an accounting firm with many established clients was not a one-man show, and by Wednesday, I was on mental overload.

At ten minutes till lunch, I was organizing my desk and updating my calendar when a knock sounded at my door.

"Come in," I said, jotting down some minor changes to my schedule for tomorrow to accommodate a potential new client.

Cale ambled into the room and paused. I wasn't even close to being prepared to see his unruly state. His face was washed out, making him appear as if he hadn't slept since last Friday. His suit was a tad wrinkled, which was unusual for a man who prided himself on his appearance. But none of that had anything on the shame and sorrow in his eyes.

"Now that you know it's me, may I still come in?" he asked timidly.

I wanted to say no, adding in that nothing would ever repair the damage that he'd done to our work relationship. But underneath my anger, I felt genuine concern for my friend of many years.

"Yes," I answered, hoping he wouldn't make me regret my decision.

Cale continued forward where he went to the chair in front of my desk and sat down. His hands went to his lap, and he toyed with a button on his blue jacket.

He wouldn't make eye contact with me when he said, "Please don't look at me like that."

Tears burned at the back of my eyelids. I refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing he'd hurt me so deeply. He was one of the few people who I'd let into my life. He was supposed to be my business partner and my friend.

"How am I supposed to look at someone who's deceived me?" I accused.

Cale winced. "I never meant to hurt you. I'd planned to pay it back before Damien noticed the money was gone."

Out of everything he could have said to me, that wasn't at all what I'd wanted to hear come out of his mouth. "And that makes it okay to embezzle money?"

"No, it doesn't."

I wanted to know what had driven him to such desperate measures to steal from another human being, so I asked, "Why did you do it, Cale?"

Cale sat up and put his hands on either side of his head, hiding his face from me. "Sage was unable to get pregnant on her own. She desired a baby more than anything." He sighed with anguish. "I ran myself into debt, trying to give her one."

My expression saddened as the subject of infertility hit home. I'd had no clue that Cale and Sage were trying to start a family, let alone having trouble in doing so. I felt awful for them. However, it didn't change my perspective. "What you did was still severely wrong, Cale."

"I know," he replied, sounding grave. "I'm sorry. I pray that, one day, you can find it in your heart to forgive me."

"Maybe someday," I said, hoping for a dear friendship that used to be so strong. Plus, I didn't think I could ever forget what he'd said to me that night at the bar. "But not today, and I can't make any promises for the future."

"I guess I have to accept your answer and stay out of your way." He rose from his position. "In the meantime, I'm going to fix my mistakes, and I'll make things right between us."

I unleashed a small nod in agreement, unsure of what else there was to say between us.

"Good-bye, Raelyn." He gave me a small smile and left the room.

A sense of loneliness settled over me as I got back to work, knowing one of the two people I cherished in my life was now gone.

All I had left was Iris.

At half past five, I was finishing up a phone call with a client when my second unexpected visitor of the day stormed into my office. It was then I realized that I must have forgotten to lock the front door after closing hours.

Damien crossed the room and tossed strips of paper on my desk.

It was my check, shredded to pieces.

"I-I'm terribly sorry, Mrs. Vickerman," I stammered as Damien braced his palms on the edge of my desk and leaned forward. "I'll have to call you back tomorrow morning, so we can finish discussing your accounts."

"That's okay. I will be available to speak anytime after eleven thirty in the morning. We have a new gardener coming to make some improvements before our estate sale. He supposedly does phenomenal work," she informed me.

Other than the time and something about a gardener, I'd barely heard her response on the other end of the line because I was too focused on the man invading my space and glaring at me.

"That's great news," I kindly told her. "I will call you after then. Good-bye, Mrs. Vickerman."

"Bye!"

I became unbelievably nervous as I hung up the receiver, and I inwardly chastised myself. I should have kept Mrs. Vickerman on the phone for as long as possible to avoid what would no doubt be an unpleasant conversation.

"So"--I tried to play it cool, but on the inside, I was practically shaking in my boots--"what brings you here?"

He was quiet for a few seconds, appearing to silently gather his thoughts. "If waking up to you being gone on Saturday wasn't bad enough, you had to make it worse by leaving me a check. It made me mad, Raelyn, _really_ fucking mad," he said, completely ignoring my question. "Why did you leave without saying anything?"

"Because I thought it was the best thing to do," I answered simply. There was no need to elaborate.

"Best for whom?"

That wasn't easy to answer, so I went for a short but honest explanation. "Me. Us." I shrugged bashfully. "Especially given our circumstances," I added as I briefly glanced at the check before redirecting our conversation to safer territory. "That belongs to you."

"No, it's not mine," he countered, looking even more irritated than when he'd first entered my office. "Cale's debt is not your responsibility to repay."

He was wrong. It was my obligation. Cale and I were attached at the hip in this predicament--that was, if I wanted to salvage my company without a lengthy lawsuit that would undoubtedly damage my reputation and career.

"Please accept it as a good faith payment, and I'll give you the rest of the money soon."

"I don't want your money, Raelyn." He stood up straight and squared his shoulders, clearly affronted. "If that was what I was after, I wouldn't have taken you to my bed. I would have taken you to court."

Reminiscences of that night rushed through my mind--the way his mouth had felt on mine, his tender touches, the way he'd kissed me when he took my body over the edge, and how it'd felt to wake up while wrapped in his arms the next morning. They were all memories I'd never forget.

Even though I longed to create more of them, I'd never allow myself to. I was my own worst enemy.

I shoved my feelings aside and returned to the topic at hand. "I didn't mean to offend you," I said with genuine remorse.

"Well, you did," Damien stated. He turned around and walked to the door where he hesitated and glanced back at me over his shoulder. "This is happening between us, Raelyn, whether you like it or not, and I think we're both powerless to stop it."

I didn't have any doubts that Damien Heathman still wanted me. I could see it beneath the hurt in those stunning gray eyes of his. The problem was, I couldn't let myself be with him again because I already felt like I had let him see too much of me, and there was no way I'd ever give another man the chance to walk away from me again in a time of need. That was heartache that I'd never survive twice.

"You can't have me, Damien," I murmured sadly. "No one can."

"You changed my world the second I laid eyes on you, Raelyn." A soft smile played at his lips, as if he were recalling the memory. "So, in my mind, you're already mine."

Just when I thought he was finally going to leave the room, he added, "Oh, and, Raelyn?"

"Yes?"

"You can make it up to me this Saturday morning. Be at my house at ten o'clock sharp, so we can pick up where we left off. Make sure you pack a bag with a change of clothes, sunscreen, and a bikini." He revealed a heart-stopping, panty-melting, earth-shifting grin, nearly knocking me out of my chair.

If he hadn't made me reel by saying I was already his, his demand surely shocked my head into spinning.

#

Saturday morning came all too fast as I contemplated whether or not to leave in less than ten minutes to be at Damien's house if I was going to be on time. I was already dressed with my bag packed, yet I couldn't seem to force my legs to carry me out of my apartment.

I was terrified to spend more time with Damien, knowing the profound effect he seemed to have on me, yet I understood that once the minute past, there would be no way to get it back, and I was tired of feeling like I was holding myself back from having a life worth living. I wanted to be the one to write the next chapter in my life, not watch the days continue to pass me by without feeling as though I'd truly lived.

So, with my mind made up, I decided to take a leap of faith. I grabbed my keys and belongings, and then I headed for my car without looking back, so I couldn't change my mind yet again.

The half-hour drive to Damien's house went by quicker than I'd expected, and I soon found myself pulling up to the wrought iron gate at the front of his premises where I lowered my window to press the red intercom button.

"Yeah?" Damien's voice cracked through the speaker.

"I'm here."

"Ah, I was beginning to think you weren't going to show," he teased.

I had a good hunch that he was grinning with victory.

"I almost didn't," I tossed back with a bit of sass, smiling.

"Don't worry. I would have come after you." His deep chuckle had my pulse accelerating. "Come on in, and make sure you park in front of the first stall by the garage."

A buzzing noise sounded. Rolling up my window, I stared out my windshield and saw the gate opening. I slowly drove forward up the driveway made of concrete pavers. I navigated the curve beneath the palm trees and parked where he'd instructed. I noticed the garage door farthest to the right was open. His speedboat was inside of it with his GMC Sierra parked directly in front of it.

I grabbed my beach bag and cell phone before exiting my vehicle, so I could begin the short journey over to the black 4x4 truck. Damien was hunched over at the waist by the hitch, rapidly turning some kind of crank that was attached to the metal trailer. His back was facing me as I approached.

I was about to greet him, but I was instantly speechless by a shirtless Damien. A light sheen of sweat glistened down his shoulder blades as his right arm continued with the circular movements, causing every muscle visible to the eye to flex, while his stunning tattoos shimmered in the sunlight.

The black ink that expanded across his shoulders to his deltoids were lines that curved in all directions, and they ended with sharp points, each one predominantly standing out to cover the marred lines beneath the tattoo.

My breathing deepened at the sight before me as an endless array of emotions ran through me--aching with sympathy and understanding for what he must have endured and so many more feelings that I couldn't get a grip on. I had so many questions, but I buried them, not wanting to stir up his past at the possibility of causing him any agony from reliving something that had to be so painful for him.

Damien suddenly rose and pivoted to give me his attention along with a full frontal view of his chiseled chest and abs, causing me to lose my breath all over again as my body overheated with desire. He was so incredibly sexy that I wanted to tackle him here on the concrete driveway.

By the time my gaze finally landed on his, he was already staring at me. His expression was guarded. He knew I'd been checking him out.

"Hey, you made it." He beamed timidly.

"I did." I swallowed thickly, miserably failing to appear casual.

He glanced down at my bag that was tightly clenched in my fingers before looking back at me and extending his arm. "Let me take that for you."

I handed him my bag and watched as he spun around to open the back door behind the passenger seat of his Sierra. He set my tote on the bench and leaned in. Then, I saw him grab a white swim shirt.

Slipping it over his head, he faced me again and asked, "Ready?"

I ignored my ping of disappointment that he was going to hide his glorious upper body from me all day, and I answered, "Yes," with a genuine smile. I was __ ready to spend an entire day with Damien.

Our ride to the marina was rather quiet, and the silence made me feel slightly uncomfortable. I guessed the rapid change in his mood from when I'd arrived at the front gate of his home to me standing before him in the driveway was in regard to me seeing him shirtless. Since he had anticipated my arrival and could have covered himself before I'd pulled up to the garage, I tried not to let myself feel guilty about it. Furthermore, I was somewhat annoyed that he couldn't see that I found him exceptionally attractive.

It took less than an hour to unload the speedboat into the marina, park the truck, and settle aboard on the boat. When Damien began to steer us into the open water, I witnessed the palpable tension in his body start to ease with each passing mile. From my reclined position on the cream leather bench, I studied his side profile, awed by how rapidly his demeanor had altered.

His shoulders were loose. His jaw was relaxed. He looked completely carefree with his dark hair and clothing blowing out behind him from the strong winds.

Damien didn't even need to speak. I could see his love for the ocean in his face. He was clearly in his element.

He continued to drive for another twenty minutes or so before he lowered the throttle to bring the boat to a standstill, and then he turned off the ignition. His bare feet padded across the floor to me, and I took this opportunity to drink in his toned arms. His black-tattooed sleeves were strikingly hot when contrasted against his white swim shirt that was paired with black trunks. His hair was now severely disheveled from the wind, making him look even more irresistible.

That handsome grin spread across his face as he perused me. "You look comfortable."

"Oh, I am." Mirroring his expression, I crossed my ankles on the bench.

He didn't even hesitate as he crawled over my body, placing his knees on each side of my waist to straddle me. He was lucky this bench was so wide, or we would have ended up on the ground.

His expression sobered as he braced his forearms on either side of my head, his body towering over me. "I'm sorry for being impolite to you back at the house." He drew his brows together and shook his head. "I don't know what came over me. Please forgive me."

I did, but I didn't verbalize my thoughts. I accepted that he wasn't ready to show that part of himself to me yet, and I didn't want him to if it was going to make him uncomfortable.

Instead, I lifted my hand to caress his cheek. "It's okay."

He softly kissed the tip of my nose and murmured, "Thank you."

My lips seemed to gravitate toward his mouth to kiss him, and when they finally touched his, butterflies leaped in my belly. He returned my embrace, tenderly kissing me, until my lungs were starved for oxygen.

His lips trailed kisses down my neck to the hollow of my throat. He continued to descend, nudging my pink tank top out of the way, until he could press his face into the valley of my breasts. I found myself utterly content with Damien surrounding me and showering me with affection.

My eyes briefly fluttered closed on a smile as my hands found his hair. I twirled a few strands around my index finger as my mind began to drift, so I asked, "Do you come out here often?"

"Yes." He nodded against my boobs, making me giggle. "Something about the ocean helps me unwind and regroup, especially after a long and stressful week at work," he stated before going back to running his lips across the swell of my breasts.

"Do you have many of those?" I imagined his hefty responsibilities made for countless worries.

"More than I can count," he admitted solemnly. "Now, where was I?" His tone flipped on a dime, instantly sounding playful. "Oh, yes. I was thinking that you were wearing entirely too many clothes for being on a boat at sea."

I wanted to tell him that I reciprocated his sentiment, but I thought better of it. This shirt barrier was going to be difficult. I wanted to see him, too.

He began making work of my tank top and shorts. I helped him by lifting a limb here and there as he removed them from my body. I was grateful that I'd worn my swimsuit underneath my clothing, which happened to be his favorite color--black.

"There." He sat back and grinned triumphantly, admiring his handiwork. "Much better. Now, you're ready to go tubing."

I had noticed a tube strapped to the other bench of the boat, but I hadn't realized we would be using it. "We're going tubing?" I asked nervously. I'd never done it before.

"The water is pretty calm, so I thought it would be a perfect day for it." He inquisitively eyed me. "You've never tubed before, have you?"

"No." I was growing more anxious by the second. My upper body strength was little to none.

"Don't be nervous." The corner of his mouth curved up into a smile. "It's easy."

"Maybe easy for you," I scoffed good-naturedly. "But I give myself sixty seconds tops before I go flying out of the tube and skipping across the water like a pebble."

Damien threw his head back and laughed hard, his chest vibrating. Vibrant sparkling eyes landed back on mine. "You'll be fine." He leaned down and planted a kiss on my lips. "Don't fret. I'll jump in and save you if I must."

"If you must?" I gaped at him, completely appalled, as I shoved at his chest. "Then, if you fly off when I'm driving, don't expect me to stop!"

He feigned shock. "You wouldn't just leave me at sea."

"Oh, I would." I bit back my amusement and continued to yank his chain. "And I'll make sure I wave good-bye as I keep going and leave you for the sharks!"

"Now, you're just being mean. Get up, so I can toss you overboard." Damien stood to his feet, taking me with him. He effortlessly threw me over his shoulder and carried me over to the end of the boat.

"No, you can't do that!" I screamed as I grabbed at his midsection, giggling uncontrollably. My cheeks were beginning to ache.

"Then, say that you'd come back for me."

"I wouldn't." I knew I was pushing it, but I didn't care. I was having fun.

"You would, or I'd be super fucking pissed," he spoke each word slowly.

My mind got stuck on one word. " _Super_?" I taunted as all the blood rushed to my face. I was grinning like an idiot.

His palm connected with my backside, making me yelp. "Yes. Super. Now, I want you to say you'd come back for me." His tone was domineering and sexy.

"Oh, fine," I caved.

"Say the words, Raelyn." His hand glided over my ass as a clear warning sign.

"Okay, okay! I'd come back for you!" I shouted. _God, he is so bossy._ It made me all hot and bothered.

"Good," he stated simply. "Can you swim?" he asked out of the blue.

"Yes, but--"

I didn't get to finish speaking because Damien extended his arms, and I instantly found myself sailing through the air on a loud scream. I hit the water with a big splash. I kicked my legs and pulled at the water until I came up sputtering.

"You son of a--" I broke off when Damien leaped off the boat, grabbed his knees midair, and landed right next to me, sending a rush of water right in my face.

I pushed my wild hair out of my eyes and gave Damien my utmost lethal stare when he surfaced. "I'm so letting your ass drown if I get the chance!"

He grinned boyishly at me. It was a rare, beautiful sight to behold. I was a complete sucker and fell for it.

"You're too sweet to be mad at me." Damien swam the short distance between us and pulled me into his arms. "Now, get over here and kiss me," he demanded before seizing my mouth.

I wanted to push him away, but I didn't have the strength to resist. Damien's kisses were too good to pass up.

I banded my arms around his shoulders and kissed him with unreserved pure fervor while clinging to him, forcing him to be the one to keep us afloat. He did, and he made it look effortless.

When we parted, he was beaming at me. "I'd throw you in again if it meant I'd get another kiss like that."

"Oh, shush!" I leaped at him, threw my palms flat on either side of his collarbone, and pushed with all my might.

His grin was the last thing I saw before we sank beneath the surface of the sea, and all I could think about was how happy I was.

I was living.

Damien settled his hands on the steering wheel of the boat and glanced over his shoulder at me. "You ready?" he shouted, loud enough for me to hear.

I made sure my death grip on the plastic handles of the large blue inner tube were good and tight. The tube surrounding me felt solid and well made. Damien had strapped me tightly into a life vest.

Those all had to be good signs, so I looked up at Damien and yelled, "As I'll ever be!" I gave him a false smile. If my heartbeat went any faster, I was going to burst like a rocket.

He gave me a thumbs-up and then turned around. The boat started to move slowly, tugging me forward. I squeezed the plastic handles harder, and my knuckles turned white.

"I'm so gonna land on my ass," I muttered to myself, accepting my doomed fate.

The inner tube began to coast through the water. I held on and kept my body steady. I got a feel for the waves as I went up and down over each ripple. It wasn't so bad. _I can do this._

Damien kept checking back on me as we cruised a straight path. After a few minutes, he turned the wheel and made a loop. Once he was going straight again, he increased his speed just a tiny bit. I braced myself to accommodate the change of pace.

As the clock ticked by, I found myself smiling and relaxing beneath the clear sunny skies while I continued to hold on. It was such an enthralling experience. The wind blew across my face as the salty water crashed against my body.

Damien was right. Out here in the ocean, I could unwind. There were no worries. I had the power to set my mind free, so I could laugh and smile and just have fun.

After teaching me the basics of how to drive a speedboat, Damien took his turn out on the water. At first, I thought it would be easy to steer. But I repeatedly found myself turning around to catch a quick glance at the sight of Damien and the way his body moved on the floating device. His arms bulged as he rode the waves. His soaked swim shirt clung to the expansion of his broad chest, giving me an impeccable view of his upper torso. He was so graceful and strong and beautiful.

Making my fifth figure eight, I recalled Damien tossing me into the ocean earlier against my will. I bit my lip in deliberation as my hand hovered over the throttle, itching to push it up a notch.

Damien had used his strength to overpower me when he decided to throw me over his shoulder, and I'd been a helpless woman, thrashing in his arms when he'd sent me airborne into the water.

Right now, I held the power. He was the impotent one.

I slowly amplified our speed with a mischievous grin plastered on my face. I glanced backward to see that he was still holding on without showing any signs of strain, so I increased our speed a little more.

I looked over my shoulder and yelled loud enough for him to hear me over the engine, "You okay?"

"Yes!" He even let go of one of the handles to give me a thumbs-up.

I did a quick scan in front of me to make sure the coast was still clear before glancing at him once again to bellow out, "Can you swim?" My delighted expression was still firmly in place. This was going to be awesome.

I saw when realization dawned on his face, and I whipped back around and cranked the wheel to the left.

"Raelyn!" he roared my name in warning.

I was slammed into the steering column from the rapid gravity of the boat as it became slightly angled. Pain reverberated through my chest.

"Whoa!" I screeched as I overcorrected my actions with a harsh right, unable to regain my balance. It went too far, so I gradually spun the wheel to the left again, positive I was going to have whiplash by the time this was over.

I yanked the throttle all the way down, brought the boat to a halt, and ran to the end of it. "Damien!" I cried, staring in horror at the empty blue inner tube. It was flipped upside down, bobbing in the water.

Without delay, I jumped in and swam toward the inner tube, thankful I was still wearing my life vest.

"Damien, where are you?" I repeated.

I was on the verge of a panic attack until he came into view from the other side of the inner tube.

"Damien," I exhaled in relief.

I pushed the floating device out of my way to get to him. My eyes darted from his head to his shoulders to his arms. I even glanced down in the water to look at his legs. He was swimming, so they couldn't have been broken. But he did appear rather disheveled.

"Are you okay?" I queried with great worry.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Damien breathed heavily, sounding exerted. He gestured toward the way I'd come. "Let's get back on the boat."

I did as he'd said and pushed my arms and legs through the water. Damien treaded alongside me. Then, he helped me up the ladder where he climbed up after me.

I collapsed on shaky limbs and tucked them beneath me. Damien lay on the floor right beside me, still showing signs of exertion. The eerie silence was eating me alive from the inside out.

I chewed on my bottom lip. _Shit, he's probably so mad at me._

I scooted closer to him without making a sound. Water seeped out of his swim shirt and trunks and puddled around us. Once my knees bumped into the side of his stomach, I peered down at him and set my hand on his sternum, softly stroking his shirt. I needed to feel his chest rising and falling beneath my palm to believe that he was really okay.

I repeated my concern aloud, "Are you sure you're all right?"

"I'm okay, Raelyn." He reached for my arm and gently tugged me onto his chest until our faces were inches apart. "But _you_ , on the other hand, are in a shitstorm of trouble with me." He was glaring at me, but his eyes said something different. He was definitely laughing at me.

_A shitstorm?_ I scrunched up my forehead and asked, "What does that mean?"

"It means that payback is a beautiful thing, Raelyn," he drawled. He grasped my nape to pull my forehead to his, and then he nipped at my lower lip. "And you, my gorgeous girl, have it coming to you tenfold."

My eyes widened with worry, and I pulled back from him. "That doesn't sound good."

"Not for you, it doesn't." He chuckled throatily, sitting up with me. "But I might cut you a little bit of slack since you didn't leave me to the sharks after all."

"If it makes you feel any better, I didn't get to watch you face-plant into the water." I frowned. "I was too busy making sure I wouldn't flip over your boat."

"It wasn't that bad." He smiled and reached forward to push my soaking wet hair off my face. "You just don't have much experience driving it."

"Well, you don't have to worry about me repeating that stunt next time. It was a terrifying experience."

"Next time?" he joked, failing to stifle the amusement in his facial expression. "Not a chance. I will never put my life at stake ever again by giving you control of a seven-hundred-and-sixty horsepower motor."

"You just said, 'It wasn't that bad,' so I think you're being a bit dramatic." I rolled my eyes. "And if anyone's life was at stake, it was mine. Your boat could have flipped over and flattened me like a pancake."

"I wouldn't have let that happen." He rotated his hand and brushed his knuckles down my left cheek. "The sun suits you well. However, I think you've had enough for one day." He tenderly kissed me. "Let's get back to the house."

"Okay," I agreed, feeling my body beginning to ache from this afternoon's events.

I couldn't remember a single time in my life where I'd had more fun than today--even if I'd almost flipped a boat.

#

After we stopped for an early dinner at a cute little Mexican restaurant, we returned to Damien's house. Damien pulled up the driveway and made a big loop in front of the house before backing up the boat and trailer to the side of the garage.

"Why are you parking over here?" I asked.

Damien slipped the Sierra into park and shut it off. We both hopped out of the truck.

He came around to my side of the vehicle and pointed at the hose. "So that I can wash my boat."

"It needs washing?" I asked with amusement in my voice, glancing between him and his black-and-white speedboat. It didn't look dirty to me.

"Yes." He picked up the hose and turned it on. "I take care of my possessions." His tone was full of pride.

I couldn't help but respect his answer. "Where are the soap and sponge?"

"Upper side cabinet in the last stall of the garage." He gestured behind him. "The key code to open the door is one, two, one, five."

I was shocked that he'd just told me his private key code, but I didn't let it stop me from going to the garage door where I punched in the numbers to open it. I followed his directions and went to the cabinet. Sure enough, there was a large jug of Meguiar's premium boat wash and a five pack of Meguiar's premium boat sponges along with a ton of other boat cleaning supplies. Damien definitely loved his speedboat.

"Clean freak." I fondly giggled to myself as I reached for the wash, two sponges, and a bucket that I found on the concrete floor before returning to Damien.

I noticed he'd already wet the boat with the hose, presoaking it, no doubt.

He extended his hand out to me while scanning the items I'd brought. "Out of all the cleaning supplies in that cabinet, you only came back with two?" he teased.

I passed him the boat wash and the black bucket. He opened the bottle and squirted some soap into the pail. "You said we were washing it, not giving it a premium detail job."

While filling the container with water, Damien let the yellow hose slip, and he sprayed my feet, causing me to jump.

"Hey, that's cold!" I screeched.

"Don't be sassy." He smirked devilishly and grabbed the second sponge from my hand. "Thank you."

I bent forward at the waist and dunked my sponge into the water, thankful that I was still wearing my pink tank top and jean shorts over my swimsuit, not my spare set of clean clothes.

I stood to my feet and walked to the front of the boat. I began to rub it in circular motions. Damien came up next to me and got busy. The first few minutes, we worked in silence, and then I was surprised to see we'd already completed half of one side.

I noted that he was moving with me around the boat, which meant that he was practically rewashing what I'd already scrubbed. He really was a perfectionist. It was an annoying but adorable trait.

"So, do you have any brothers or sisters?" Damien asked out of the blue as we made our way from the front end of the boat to the other side.

"No, it's just me."

I'd already told him that I had no family, but he wasn't the only person to ask me more than once. To most people, it seemed unfathomable. Damien had told me he didn't have any family either, but it was a choice that he'd made a long time ago.

I returned his inquiry, "Do you have any siblings?"

"A stepbrother." His answer was swift and indifferent.

I could have sworn his strokes on the boat had become more forceful. I guessed he and his stepbrother weren't close.

"Do you speak to him?"

"No."

"How long?" I kept moving forward, cleaning with long strokes.

"Almost fourteen years."

The sponge fell out of my hand. Okay, that was much longer than I had expected him to say. Damien couldn't have more than a few years on me, so that would mean he and his stepbrother hadn't spoken since they were very young--or he was much older than I thought. Either way, it was still an extremely long time to not speak with a family member.

"Fourteen years?" I wondered aloud.

Damien reached for the hose to begin washing off the boat.

"How old are you?"

He shot me a sideways glance. Mischief swept across his face, and his brow rose in amusement. "How old do you think I am?"

I guessed that he couldn't be more than a few years older than me, and I was twenty-five. "Twenty-seven?"

He turned the hose at me and sprayed my legs, grinning. "Wrong. Try again."

I yelped and backed up. "Twenty-eight?"

"Nope." He pointed the hose at my shorts.

"Stop getting me wet!" I laughed, retreating.

Damien followed.

"Am I getting warmer or colder?" I had to be getting closer to his age.

He bit his lower lip to prevent a smile and shook his head. "I can't tell you. Keep guessing."

I was going to be drenched by the time I figured out his correct age. Surely, he couldn't be over thirty. I gave him a hopeful expression and said, "Twenty-nine?"

"Wrong again." This time, he aimed the hose at my chest, effectively soaking me.

"Damien!" I squealed, feeling my nipples go taut and press against my clothing. I was freezing. "Look what you did!" I accused playfully, pulling at my shirt. "I'm all wet!"

His gaze traveled up and down the length of my body, leisurely and appreciatively. "I like you wet."

He dropped the hose and stalked closer to me. His arms came to my waist where he drew me against his body and then glided his hands up my sides before grasping my nape. My curiosity of his age was completely forgotten as my body instantly flared to life under his touch. I shivered at the intensity of his hypnotic stare sizzling into the depths of me.

"Stay with me tonight, Raelyn," he demanded gruffly before pulling my mouth to his.

He wasn't asking, yet I couldn't seem to deny him. I wanted him too badly. I needed him to put out the fire that was spreading throughout every part of me. I yearned to feel his hands on me. I wanted his touch to bring me to life again.

"Okay," I murmured softly, cupping his cheeks.

That one word had his lips sealing over mine again.

Damien hoisted me up into his arms. I locked my ankles around his waist as he began to move toward the house. All the while, he continued to devour me. His tongue pushed past the barrier of my lips and into my mouth, claiming me for his taking. I raked my hands through his hair where I pulled his mouth harder to mine, as if he weren't close enough. I was a riot of red-hot flaming need.

We barely made it through the front door before Damien had me braced against the nearest wall. His kisses were becoming more urgent. He used his thighs to balance me as his hands yanked at my tank top and black bikini top. He tossed them aside before cupping my breasts with his large hands. I arched into him, desperate for his touch.

"I was gentle with you last time, Raelyn." His palms firmly squeezed and kneaded my breasts. "I don't think I have it in me to restrain myself this time," he confessed on a growl. Dragging his lips down my neck, he lavished me with his tongue, licking and nipping at my flesh. "I want you here, against the wall, hard and fast, and I can't guarantee that I'll be a gentleman about it. I want you too badly."

I was instantly filled with a desperate ache of anticipation. I didn't need a proper gentleman, so I deliberately rocked my hips into his groin, finding him rock solid. "I like it rough," I told him.

A deep rumble tore from the back of his throat, and he sealed his lips over mine, feverishly kissing me.

When we finally broke apart, gasping for air, he lowered me to my feet to remove my shorts and bikini bottom. He produced a condom from his shorts before dropping them and his boxers to the floor.

Damien came forward and possessively gripped my hips to push me against the wall, crowding me. He tugged at his shirt to move it away, revealing his rock-hard erection, while using his spare hand to pass me the condom. His eyes darkened, looking ravenous with heat, as he ordered, "Open it."

I snatched it from his hand to remove the wrapper. I reached forward with both of my hands to sheathe him, but I was promptly distracted by the way the firmness of his cock contrasted with his velvety smooth skin. It jutted forward at me, and I itched to take him in my hand, so I did. Tentatively, I gripped him at the base and gently squeezed before stroking him from root to tip.

"Fuck." Damien's upper body swayed forward on a satisfied groan.

He pressed his nose into my neck, and I felt his labored breaths against my skin.

I gently pumped him in my hand a few more times before I used the pad of my thumb to swirl around and around on the tip of his head, spreading the bead of cum. My actions sent my own body wanton with need as heat pooled at the center of my thighs.

He maneuvered one hand between us and slid it down my abdomen to cup my sex. When he began to tease my clit, I bit back a whimper and responded by gently compressing my grip on him and pumping him with firmer strokes.

Damien rotated his face to mine until we were intimately cheek-to-cheek. The only noise in the room was both of us breathing deeply. He pushed his finger into me and applied pressure on my front wall. My body sagged against him as my insides ignited, forcing Damien to steady me.

"Raelyn," he rasped, "hurry up."

I didn't have a voice to respond because my body was set to detonate at any moment, so I pinched the tip of the condom and rolled it down his length.

He withdrew his finger from my passage, leaving me an empty pile of pent-up need, as his broad hands spanned either side of my ass to lift me once again. Before I could protest at the loss, the broad head of his arousal met my entrance, and he wasted no time in filling me with one deliriously slow thrust as my torso was reacquainted with the wall behind me. My arms banded around his shoulders to hang on as every single cell in my body electrified, sparking to life. It was rejuvenating.

"Oh God," I moaned, throwing my head back at the fullness.

His mouth absorbed my cries, and then he broke our kiss. "Again?" he asked. His strangled tone was low and husky.

It sent a shiver racing down my spine before ricocheting back up to settle low in my belly.

"Yes."

The friction of his retreat made me inhale a sharp breath. When he slammed back in, the air left my lungs on a rush. He repeated his movements, each one getting harder and deeper, yet I knew he was holding back.

I wanted more. I wanted all of him.

I fisted my hands in his hair and pulled his mouth to mine, breathing along his lips. "More," I rasped. "I want more."

Pulling out nearly all the way, he impaled me more forcefully and then angled his hips to drive himself deeper. It sent an intense tingling sensation to ripple through my muscles, and my walls constricted around him.

He briefly tugged my lower lip into his mouth. "More?"

"God, yes." I rapidly nodded my head up and down, noting we were both breaking out into a light sweat.

"I want something, too."

He delivered another firm thrust, and I felt my impending orgasm looming in the background.

"And you'll give it to me."

I didn't like the sound of his overbearing tone, not one bit. But I was too overpowered by the way his body made mine feel, so I gave him an inquisitive glare. "What?"

"Tomorrow morning"--he gave me another grind of his hips, slower this time--"you'll stay with me"--he hit me with another delicate thrust, and I gasped as I squeezed around him--"so I can wake up with you in my arms."

That was never going to happen. Waking up in someone's arms was intimate. I'd already made the mistake once. I didn't want to do it again.

"No," I stated resolutely.

Those powerful gray eyes narrowed with unmistakable determination. He drove forward and thrust into me impossibly deep. "Yes," he demanded.

I whimpered with pleasure, but my answer remained the same. "No."

He ceased all movements, causing me to shoot daggers at him.

"I need you to move," I said.

"Say you'll stay." He ground his hips and swiveled deep, trying to fuck me into submission. "And I'll give you what you want." He withdrew to the crown of his head, leaving a trail of scorching heat.

I cried out as my inner muscles went taut around him, attempting to pull him back in for my impending release. "Fine," I hissed. "I'll stay."

"Thank you, gorgeous girl." He kissed the tip of my nose and plunged deep.

And so, he set a pace, pounding in and out of me, fucking me, marking me, and I couldn't help but feel like he was making me his as our sweaty bodies collided with one another.

Pure desire hummed from all directions inside me, sending waves of pleasure to my center. The wild thump of my heart sounded in my ears.

I'd never felt this way before--except with him. It was as though he'd been given the power to make me feel, to awaken my empty soul and bring light to it.

Before I knew it, my sex bore down on him, causing him to groan.

"Christ, Raelyn." He increased his thrusts as my body climbed its peak. "You're gripping me so tight. I can feel you're about to come."

"Yes." I held my breath as stars danced in my line of vision. I couldn't hold on much longer.

Damien pumped himself in and out of me twice more, and I felt him thickening within me.

"Now, Raelyn." His voice was edged with that domineering sexy tone as his eyes landed on me. "Come with me."

And I did. A flood of bright light exploded behind my eyes when my body shuddered and convulsed with ecstasy, milking him with my release. Damien sealed his lips over mine as he let go.

It wasn't until later that night when I was in his bed tucked into his arms with our hearts beating against one another, almost as one, that I began to worry.

Somehow, I was starting to feel like Damien Heathman was piercing my shield. It was as though he was slowly hacking away at the steel I'd so carefully built around my heart.

I needed to be careful. Otherwise, I'd give another man the chance to hurt me. And no matter my feelings for Damien thus far, I couldn't allow that to happen.

Deep down, I knew that Damien didn't just have the power to hurt me. He could destroy me, and my fragile heart wouldn't survive him.

#

An antagonizing sharp pain shooting through my stomach woke me in the middle of the night. I sat up in bed and swayed to the right as my vision blurred. I stifled a sob as another powerful pain stabbed at either side of my temples, making me instantly break out in a cold sweat. My eyes watered, and I blinked the moisture away.

I forced myself to take deep breaths, and then I whipped the covers off my body, feeling as though I were boiling to the brim. Recalling I was in Damien's bed, I quietly rose from the mattress. There was a full moon tonight, so it gave me just enough light to make my way to the bathroom.

Once inside, I shut and locked the door behind me before turning on the light. A second cruel ache sliced through my skull. It was so powerful that I wasn't able to support myself. My knees crumbled, and I fell to the ground. I grabbed either side of my temples as my stomach churned from the intense throbbing. I was going to be sick.

"Ah," I whispered in complete agony, buckling over at the waist.

Tears poured down my cheeks and fell to the tiled floor in front of my face. I bit back more sobs, trying to keep my voice but a whisper.

My stomach clenched tightly and then flipped over again. I threw my hand over my mouth, gagging uncontrollably, as I scrambled to the toilet. I lifted the lid as my internal reflex kicked into gear, and I vomited into the white porcelain. Violent tremors racked through me, and the toilet seat clattered in my death grip.

A knock sounded at the door, followed by Damien's voice. "Raelyn, are you okay?"

"K-kay," was all I could murmur before my stomach continued to empty itself. It just kept coming and coming. My naked body was drenched with sweat.

I just wanted to go home, but I wasn't fit to drive. I couldn't even muster up enough strength to jump when the sound of the door snapping from its hinges reverberated throughout the room.

"Jesus." Damien's footsteps sounded like he was running. "Raelyn, what's wrong?" He sat directly behind me and pulled my hair out of the way. "Are you okay?" His voice was panicky.

The muscles in my neck gave out. My head fell to my forearms that were crisscrossed over the toilet as another wave of nausea ripped through me. Normally, I would have wanted to die of embarrassment at someone walking in on me puking, but I didn't have the strength to feel any emotions at the present moment. I was in my own private hell, wishing it would swallow me whole and take the pain away.

Once nothing else came up, I began to dry-heave and gasp for air. I shut my eyes and pursed my lips to draw air in and out of my lungs, hoping to calm myself.

"Fuck, Raelyn. Your whole body is shaking." He scooted closer and tightened his hold on me. "Please, _please_ tell me what I can do to help."

"J-just hold me," I cried softly.

Keeping my world black with closed eyelids, I tuned out my aching body and focused on the feel of Damien surrounding me, hoping to find my piece of serenity. His chest rose and fell beneath his shirt, perceivably more rapidly than mine. With his arms twined around me, his callous hands stroked either side of my thighs.

I hadn't the slightest clue of how long we sat together on the tiled floor, and I didn't care. The coldness of it felt heavenly against my bare flesh.

Damien leaned his face toward me while shifting one hand to softly caress the length of my spine. "Are you ready for me to carry you back to bed?"

Now that my stomach was settled, I could smell the awful scent of my own vomit. "No, I need a shower," I said weakly, attempting to pull out of his hold. My body was drained.

"Raelyn, you need your rest. You can shower in the morning," he said with finality. Standing up behind me, he crouched down on his haunches where he snuck his arms beneath me to lift me and cradle me toward his chest.

"No," I stated through my exhaustion. "I _need_ a shower." I would not budge on this. I smelled horrendous to my own nose, and I wouldn't get an ounce of sleep with vomit in my hair.

"All right," he sighed. "A shower, it is."

Damien carried me toward the large glass shower stall. He slightly maneuvered me to open the door, and then he stepped into the large space. Angling me out of the way, he turned on the water and adjusted the temperature.

I gently pressed at his sternum as a signal to put me down while trying to wiggle my legs free. He rotated his head to peer down at me. Hesitation was clear in his features before he finally gave in and loosened his hold.

When my feet pressed against the tiles, my strength failed to support my weight, and I placed my hand on his chest to grasp his shirt for stability.

Within a nanosecond, I was back in his arms. This time, we were face-to-face with my legs wrapped feebly around his waist and my arms draped lifelessly around his shoulders.

I felt angry, but at whom or what, I was unsure.

"I got it," I protested, choking back a sob. "I just needed a second to get my balance." I wanted to take care of myself, not feel as though I were an invalid...again. I was supposed to be stronger now.

He narrowed his eyes at me, a clear sign not to argue with him. "You'll let me hold you and wash you without complaint, Raelyn." He stepped into the water with me, still wearing his shirt. The water cascaded from the back of his head and over his exposed neck before soaking the front of him.

"Are you ready?" he asked, tilting his head at the showerhead.

"Yes." I nodded.

He slightly spun me and slowly let the water trickle down my side before rotating me in a full circle where I finished with my back. It took all my strength to tip my head back in an effort to saturate my hair. The water temperature was perfect--not too hot, not too cold.

Damien retrieved a bottle of shampoo and guided us over to the opposite end of the stall where he sat down. He opened the bottle to pour some in his hand.

"I can do it," I said, feeling awkward by this small intimacy.

My statement earned me a glare. "You'll let me take care of you."

His relentless stubbornness was a force of nature that needed to be reckoned with.

"Fine, you can wash the puke out of my hair." I sighed and pressed my forehead against his shoulder in defeat.

"Why, thank you." Damien chuckled quietly as he began to lather me down with shampoo.

Even through my dire fatigue, his laughter made me smile against his skin. It was so rare to hear--with the exception of yesterday when I'd heard it so much while out on the ocean.

He effortlessly rose to his feet with me still wrapped around him and guided me back under the showerhead to rinse out the shampoo.

"Tip your head back," he ordered lightly.

I closed my eyes and did as he'd said. I let out a long sigh at the feel of his hands running through the strands of my hair.

"Do you know what made you so ill?"

Since I didn't eat Mexican food often, I was going to hold it fully responsible for my stomach attack. "I'm guessing it was from dinner."

He extended his arm, snatched a bar of soap from the metal shower rack to my right, and began to rub me down with it while appearing thoughtful. "You think it was food poisoning?"

"Yes, I believe so." It made sense. I had all the symptoms--well, minus the diarrhea part, but I was going to consider myself lucky that I'd missed out on that one.

Once he finished washing and rinsing me, Damien shut off the water valve and carried me out of the shower. He grabbed a towel off the linen rack and made his way over to the sink. Setting me on the countertop, he draped the towel around my shoulders and began to dry me off. All the while, water dripped from his shirt onto the tiles around his feet. He seemed unconcerned with the mess.

I suddenly felt extremely shy, and I blushed when I peered up at him. "Do you happen to have a spare toothbrush?"

He bent forward at the waist to reach around me to grab his toothbrush from a cup holder before returning to me with it in his hand.

"I can't use yours!" My eyes widened in horror.

"Why not?" His head jutted back on his shoulders, clearly missing my point.

"Because my mouth is dirty!"

His mouth twitched in amusement, and he appeared completely unfazed by my declaration. "So, wash it"--he waved the toothbrush at me--"with this."

When I made no move to retrieve the instrument from his hand, he demanded, "Now, Raelyn."

His stern voice made me want to dirty up his toothbrush, so I snatched it from his grasp. "Fine," I huffed. "But first thing in the morning, I'm buying you a new one to replace it."

His brows rose, and he smiled. "Whatever you say, gorgeous girl."

I didn't feel gorgeous since he'd just witnessed me hugging his porcelain, but that didn't seem to stop me from reciprocating his delighted expression.

Damien grabbed the toothpaste, twisted off the cap, and smeared the blue-and-white paste across the bristles.

"Thank you," I said before sticking the toothbrush in my mouth to set about brushing my teeth.

He studied me, still holding the toothpaste, as I leaned over to turn on the faucet and lightly spit. Still feeling dirty, I sat upright and clutched the toothpaste from between his fingers to apply a second round to the brush. Damien's soaked chest silently vibrated with amusement as I continued to brush my teeth.

When I finally felt minty and clean, I rinsed off his brush and scanned the bathroom. "Where's your garbage can?"

He gently snatched the filthy toothbrush from my fingers and replaced it in the cup holder before intently eyeing me. "Don't even think about hitting me with any of your sass. The toothbrush stays."

"That's just"--I shook my head in wonder--"so wrong."

He shook his head right back at me and swooped me up off the counter to carry me to bed. "Get over it. You can find a way to sanitize it in the morning, if it suits you."

"I'm going to scrub the shit out of that thing with rubbing alcohol," I said, unable to hold my tongue.

"I'm sure you will." His tone was completely unfazed. "Whatever makes you happy."

Damien lightly laid me on the bed, removed my towel, and tucked me beneath the sheets. "Do you need anything? Water, saltines, anything?" Concern filled his features once again.

"No." I smiled. "I'm fine. Just tired."

He nodded his acknowledgment, and then he walked to the bathroom door while pulling his soaking wet shirt from his back. He tossed it on the chair, every muscle flexing with his movements.

I might have been tired, but that didn't stop me from being stunned into silence as my body flamed to life at the sight of his bare torso. My greedy eyes traveled from one end of his shoulder to the other, drinking in the beauty of his ink.

Without glancing at me, he sauntered over to his dresser to pull out a dark-colored shirt.

"Don't," I whispered, feeling my heart stop beating in my chest.

It destroyed me a little every time he concealed this part of himself from me. I knew something awful had happened to Damien and that he didn't want to talk about it, but him hiding it from me hurt beyond any other physical pain I'd ever experienced.

His arms paused midair, and he gazed over his shoulder. From his side profile, I saw the instant his body tensed, and his jaw clenched.

"Please..." I swallowed thickly and dug for courage. "You want me to stay. And I want to lie with you...with nothing between us." I realized I was being unfair, but I was that desperate.

A visible tremor shook through him. It felt as though an eternity had passed before he spoke, "Don't touch them."

My heart swelled within its confined space. He was going to trust me.

"I won't," I breathed in relief. "I promise."

"Don't ever break a promise to me, Raelyn." He slowly lowered his arms and pivoted to face me. "So, don't make one if you can't keep it."

"I keep my promises," I vowed with the utmost sincerity.

"As do I. Always." His voice was reverent. He released a rush of air before he dropped the shirt and came to his side of the bed to climb in.

I met him in the middle of the mattress. At first, I thought the mattress shaking under me was him shifting about, but it wasn't. The movement was coming from his body trembling.

He lay flat on his back. After a second, he began to turn on his side and then appeared to think better of it. "Fuck," he cursed under his breath, raising his hands to run them through his hair. "I _really_ fucking need you to keep your promise, Raelyn. So, please, turn on your other side."

Tears burned the back of my eyes. It wasn't because he didn't want me to face him. It was because of the palpable anxiety and agony from the mere thought of me accidentally touching his scars. I had a feeling that this man hadn't been touched since those tattoos were engraved on his flesh. And before that had to be from the injuries themselves. I felt guilty for requesting that he leave his shirt off and for the anguish this was causing him.

I rolled over onto my opposing side to face away from him. My knees came to my chest as I curled into a ball, distraught over the idea of hurting him. It instantly vanished when Damien laid his arm over my center and hauled me to his chest. His nose nuzzled into my hair.

I closed my eyes and reveled in the warmth of his bare skin along mine. My heart was smiling. My body was content. And my soul was utterly at peace.

I'd nearly drifted off into a tranquil slumber when I heard Damien's voice.

"Nothing has ever felt so right, Raelyn." He pressed his lips into my hair to kiss me. "Nothing...until now."

I couldn't agree with him more, and at the same time, his admission frightened me with its truthfulness. 

#

I awoke to feeling as though my body were on fire as Damien's finger repeatedly teased my sex with soft and slow undulating circles. My torso automatically arched against him on a desperate cry for more, and I immediately felt his hard erection against my backside.

"Damien," I moaned, pushing my clit into his hand, craving more friction. I'd only been awake for seconds, yet I was already aching and wet for him. My body was primed.

"You're so fucking gorgeous when you writhe beneath my touch." His hot breath seeped over my neck as his lips trailed kisses across my skin. "Someone's feeling better," he noted.

I could tell by his voice that he was grinning.

"Yes," I replied breathlessly. All I could think about was the heat and liquid desire surging forward and pooling at my core.

"I'm glad to hear that." His voice was gruff with unabashed lust.

Without pausing his motions, Damien shuffled behind me. I heard the unmistakable noise of a plastic wrapper tearing behind me.

My hands came to the back of his head to impatiently grasp his hair as he quickly sheathed himself. Then, he whipped the covers off of us before his palm came to my hip to shift the angle of my position on the mattress. He snuck one leg between mine to force my thighs apart, completely exposing my center.

I gasped when he rocked his pelvis forward and ever so gently slipped into my slick heat from behind, filling me to the max. The feeling was incredible. My hold on his hair tightened as I bowed at the waist to let him sink even deeper inside me.

"Christ, you feel amazing." His palm came to my neck and lightly glided down the length of my spine while gently pushing me forward. His touch left a tingling shiver in its wake.

He pulled back along my sensitive tissues, and I impulsively squeezed around him at the sensations he drew from me. His spare hand went to my breast where he firmly kneaded it before rolling my nipple between his thumb and forefinger on another forward thrust.

"This is going to be quick, Raelyn," he gritted out through clenched teeth, as though trying to maintain control.

My blood sizzled in my veins as it headed straight for my groin, making my sex tingle and throb. There would be no delaying my orgasm. I could spontaneously combust just from the sound of his rough command.

As he kept delivering powerful drives with his hips, his grasp on my breast tightened, just to the brink of pain. But when he rewarded me with a precise angle of his hips, driving deep, pleasure rushed forward, wiping the trace of discomfort away.

His hand skimmed up my chest to my throat where he softly seized my jaw to bring my mouth to his. Those gray eyes flashed with emotions. Unimaginable passion seemed to fuse our gazes together.

"I want you to feel every part of me while I'm buried deep inside you"--he reinforced his words with another grind of his hips, penetrating the depths of me--"with everything I have to give you"--he tenderly kissed me, adoringly, as though he were trying to heal my damaged heart--"and I want you to take it all."

His words practically tore me in two, and my heart expanded against the armored walls I'd worked so hard to rebuild. It was becoming difficult to tell where he ended, and I began. I was drowning in him.

He hadn't unveiled much of himself to me, yet I could sense this was his way of doing so--with his body and the way he touched me.

As he continued to move in and out of me with silky smooth thrusts, my arousal increased with every unsteady breath and each uneven heartbeat. I'd never felt so taken before. I felt like I was _his._ And I savored the emotions he invoked in me.

"Let your body tremble for me." He placed a chaste kiss on my lips before gently sucking the lower one into his mouth. "Only me," he possessively reiterated with conviction in his tone. "You're mine, Raelyn," he growled against my mouth as I felt his length hardening inside me. "Mine."

His strides became more urgent, as if he were fucking me senseless. I lost my breath as my stomach muscles constricted. I was wound too tight.

"Give me what I want," he whispered.

I briefly wondered if he meant me or my release.

I didn't get long to ponder because my need took over when Damien surged forward one last time with a meaningful yet hard thrust.

My head rolled back on his shoulder as my orgasm hurtled over its peak and threw me into oblivion. I barely heard Damien's guttural groan as his pace slowed. He pumped languidly, prolonging my orgasm, as he found his own release.

Damien wrapped his arm around my center and let his face lay alongside mine as the both of us breathed heavily. As my heart slowly returned to its normal rhythm, I felt that something prominent had just transpired between us. But I swiftly shoved the thought aside, knowing I wasn't ready to acknowledge any such feelings yet.

Surely, the orgasmic haze was clouding my head.

As we still lay in bed with my back pressed to Damien's chest and his arms wrapped around me, I found it hard to resist the desire to turn in his hold. Instead, I focused on the feel of his bare skin along mine as my mind began to wander.

I had to break the silence and address an issue that was bothering me. "Damien?" I felt nervous about disrupting our perfect morning.

"Yes?" His hand continued to caress a trail up and down my arm.

"We need to talk about Cale." I was unsure of how to go on. I needed to hear Damien's feelings on the matter.

His movements paused as he asked, "What about him?"

"I need to know what your intentions are for him and how you plan to recuperate your money from him."

His head shook behind me, a clear sign of denial. "I'll deal with Cale in my own way. There is no reason for you to be concerned."

Needing to see his eyes, I maneuvered myself to my stomach next to him. Damien rolled onto his back as I supported my upper body weight on my forearms to gaze at him.

"It worries me a great deal, Damien, when the future of my company and its reputation are on the line."

He pulled his brows together in a frown, looking rather adorable with a pout on his facial features. "You think I'd put your company at risk?" he asked, sounding hurt.

"You have every right to sue Cale to regain what he stole from you."

This wasn't about me and Damien. It was about Damien taking equitable actions against Cale's wrongdoing. It wasn't Damien's fault that I was tied to Cale with Adam & Jennings Accounting Services.

"Raelyn"--he sighed--"I'm well aware of what will happen to you if I pursue Cale legally." He brushed his finger along my cheek. "I wouldn't do that to you, so don't ask me to."

I couldn't just accept the easy way out. I'd take responsibility for my disloyal business partner. "Then, you'll let me pay you and settle my company's debt," I stated.

"It's not your debt." His eyes narrowed, causing me to squirm.

Gone was my gentle, attentive lover, and here was this overbearing sexy alpha who was about to put me in my place.

"We are _not_ arguing over this anymore, Raelyn. I will not accept your money. Ever. End of."

My lower lip quivered, overwhelmed by the gravity of our situation. "But it's _so_ much money, Damien. That's not fair to you."

"Don't get me wrong. I _will_ handle Cale--on my own terms--without it impacting you in a negative way." He brushed his index finger over my lower lip, instantly soothing me, and he smiled softly. "Besides, do you have any idea what Heathman Enterprises earns per calendar year? I can assure you that sixty-seven grand is nothing to me, so my actions toward Cale will be based solely on principle, not because I need to recover my losses."

I wanted to ask him to expand on what he planned to do to Cale, but it wasn't my business to pry if it didn't directly impact Adam & Jennings Accounting Services.

As if sensing my lingering anxieties, he brought his arms to my sides and pulled me onto him. I rested my cheek over his sternum and listened to his steady heartbeat.

"Your company will be okay, Raelyn," he said reverently, running his fingers through my unruly morning locks. "I promise."

I didn't understand how that could be true when my business partner owed him an unfathomable sum of money, but I was quickly distracted when I realized where I was. Damien had placed me on his chest--his _bare_ chest.

I slowly rotated my head to press a gingerly kiss over his heart before nuzzling back against him while being extremely mindful not to reach up and touch his shoulders or biceps.

I felt my body rise as Damien inhaled a deep breath and held it. Every muscle in him went taut, as if _he_ realized where I was.

I had no intentions of going higher up his body and breaking my promise by touching his scars. I'd never break his faith in me, yet I wanted to show that he could trust me to shower him with affection while respecting his wishes.

So, I kissed the same spot once more before lowering the side of my face back to his skin. My body lowered as Damien released all the air from his lungs.

I let my eyes drift shut on a smile at the small progress Damien and I had made last night and this morning during our lazy Sunday. I just wanted a few more harmonious minutes in Damien's arms where I was hidden away from the rest of the world.

After relaxing in Damien's arms in complete bliss until nearly noon, he and I showered and dressed. His reservations about me seeing his bare shoulders returned as he covered himself with a navy-blue cotton T-shirt before we left his bedroom to make a late brunch together. He had already opened up to me, so I wanted to let him be.

Once we finished eating, we continued our day with two movies and half of a bottle of Frescobaldi Castelgiocondo Brunello di Montalcino 2009. It was a mouthful to try to pronounce, so I focused on its exquisite taste instead. I also learned that Damien had a severe weakness for comedies and action-packed adventures.

I was pretty sure I'd missed a good ninety percent of both shows because my gaze was glued on Damien. It had been such a revelation to observe the uncontrollable laughter pouring out of him and the blinding light radiating from his eyes. I wasn't even sure if they were gray today. Or my mind could have been playing tricks on me and confusing the color gray with silver. I was leaning toward the latter because, surely, no one in the history of mankind had silver irises.

_Did they?_ I made a mental note to Google this later. _They have to be a soft blue or something._

He was currently lying on the center of the couch, flat on his back, while I was settled atop him with my cheek resting comfortably on his sternum. My second glass of wine was empty, as was Damien's.

When the closing credits of _Fast & Furious 6_ came on the television screen, I lifted my head to glance up at Damien and saw him looking at me with amusement on his face.

"Would you like to watch another movie?" He cocked his head to the side with a boyish smirk. "Or will you just stare at me again the whole time?"

There was no reason to deny that I'd been gawking at him because I knew he'd caught me countless times.

I crossed my arms over his chest and rested my chin on them. "You can watch another one if you'd like, preferably a comedy." I smiled. "And I'll just keep my eyes on you again."

He lifted a devious brow. "And you preferred ogling me over Vin Diesel and The Rock?"

"Oh, don't get me wrong. They're both smoking hot." I matched his expression. "But Vin Diesel and The Rock don't have anything on you."

His hands went to my waist, and he hauled me up the length of his body until we were nose-to-nose. "And I think all that wine has gone straight to your head."

"Maybe." I giggled.

He impishly glared at me.

I was unable to resist the natural urge of ruffling his feathers, so I corrected myself and said, "No, you're right. It definitely must be the alcohol clouding my judgment. What woman in her right mind could resist all that muscle and hotness in one movie?"

He slid his hands to my ass, squeezed it beneath his palms, and ground his generous length along my center as he vowed, "Oh, I'll show you hotness, gorgeous girl."

His mouth was on me before I could hit him with another sassy comeback. And as his mouth captured mine, I knew I was about to get thoroughly fucked senseless.

_Lazy Sunday...round two_.

#

The next week passed in a blur. I was up to my nose in paperwork at the office, and the only thing that got me through the days was knowing that I would get to spend my evenings with Damien. It scared me that he was quickly consuming my every thought, but I was too overcome with butterflies in my stomach at the idea of seeing him again that I kept pushing my reservations aside for another time.

He and I had made plans to unwind at FireSide Bar tonight with Iris and her unexpected date, Joshua. I hadn't heard of him until an hour ago, so I was going to be watching him like a hawk. Kate and Noah were free this evening, too, so they were going to join us.

I was eager for Damien to finally have the chance to spend some time with my friends, so they could get to know each other, especially Iris and Kate. I ignored the hurt I felt inside at losing Cale and Sage from our gang, realizing our circle of friends had just gotten smaller.

We all met at the front of the building where the six of us showed our identifications to the bouncer at the entrance. He checked them over one at a time before letting us pass by.

As we entered the building, I immediately squinted at the harsh strobe light flickering in the crowded room. My hand automatically found Damien's larger one, and he weaved us through the mass of people with our friends all following behind.

I spotted a large group of men who were rising from their table. Damien must have spotted them, too, because he steered us directly toward them.

"Are you guys leaving?" Damien asked as we came within earshot.

"Yes," answered a tall man with a shaved head. He nodded with a cordial smile. "It's all yours, man."

"Thanks," Damien replied as the other two guys came into view.

One of them was Tim, my assistant. "Hi, Raelyn." He beamed at me a little too brightly to pass as friendly. "I didn't know you were going to be here tonight."

"Hey, Tim." I smiled kindly.

Kate came to my side and said, "Of course we're here. It's not often that FireSide Bar has dollar cherry-bomb shots."

I laughed.

Tim grinned at Kate. "No, you can't turn down any drink for a buck!"

"Hell no, I can't!" She mirrored Tim's expression and snuggled into her boyfriend. "Noah here will be carrying me out of this place by the time I'm finished."

"Probably." Noah chuckled quietly and kissed Kate's cheek.

Kate's eyes suddenly widened, and she rotated to look at Tim. "Hey, you should stay and have a few shots with us."

_Oh, jeez_. I refrained from glaring at Kate for inviting Tim to hang out with us.

She knew the guy had an infatuation with me, and he hadn't been the least bit discreet about it. I truly hoped he could keep his wandering gaze to himself tonight. Otherwise, if he made his crush on me known in front of my overly possessive date, I had no doubt that Damien would stake his claim and trample my poor assistant.

"Sure, I'd love to." Tim glanced over at me, appearing overly pleased by Kate's invitation.

One might think he'd just won the lottery.

He added, "We don't ever get to see each other outside of work, so this is the perfect opportunity."

I struggled not to frown. "Great." I forced myself to look happy as I lifted my date's rather stiff arm. "Well, this is Damien. He's my..." I briefly hesitated, unsure of what to say because we hadn't been seeing each other for that long.

Damien, however, didn't mind cutting right in. "Her boyfriend," he stated confidently before extending his spare hand. "Pleased to meet your acquaintance."

"Nice to meet you, too," Tim mumbled as he took Damien's amiable offer, finally shaking his hand.

All the while, Tim's eyes darted between Damien and me. He seemed stunned, and it made me feel awkward when I shouldn't have.

A waitress with long black hair approached us, and Tim stepped backward. He went to sit at the table with my friends where they all began to order drinks.

With everyone else shuffling and chattering around us, I tuned them out and reached up on my toes to bring my lips near Damien's ear. "Are you okay?" I asked on a whisper so that only he could hear me.

He spun his face to mine. "I'll be much better when Tim stops staring at you and accepts where you and he stand."

I shortly rotated my head, and sure enough, Tim was curiously eyeing Damien and me from his position. I sighed. My fun night out on the town was bound to hit the fan at some point in the near future.

I wanted to have a good time with Damien without any drama. So, I returned my gaze to Damien and kissed his cheek, making it visibly clear to Tim that I was taken. "Be nice," I breathed in a plea.

"When it comes to you, gorgeous girl of _mine_ "--that devious grin of his proudly revealed itself, and I knew I was doomed--"that is not a promise I can make." He topped off his declaration with a smacking kiss on my mouth, obviously displaying a claim of his own.

"Get outta here." I laughed uncontrollably at his caveman traits and shoved him back. Then, I dodged around him, so I could go sit with my friends, only to come to an abrupt halt.

Iris was sitting next to Joshua, followed by Noah and Kate. That would have left two vacant chairs next to Iris and only one next to Kate.

My lovely assistant had planted his ass next to Iris, leaving it impossible for Damien and me to sit next to one another. The annoying smirk he was displaying at Damien only confirmed his actions had been intentional.

_Oh, boy._

A rush of air left my lungs, knowing this was about to go horribly wrong, and before I could muster up a possible solution in my mind, Damien went to retrieve the empty bar stool next to Tim. He dragged it to the other side of the table, causing the pegs on the bottom to make an ear-screeching noise. My attention landed on Iris, Joshua, Noah, and Kate to see all of them biting back their amusement.

"There. Problem solved," Damien stated, sounding rather proud of himself, as he stared directly at Tim.

I inwardly agreed with him. Damien's solution was better than him hauling Tim out of his chair by his shirt--or worse, by his neck.

I wasted no time in sitting next to Kate, and Damien immediately followed.

"So..." Iris cleared her throat and glanced at me, appearing as if she was about to burst into a fit of giggles. "I took the liberty of ordering us all the first round of shots, but you're on your own for anything else you want to drink."

"Thank you." I held her gaze. My impassive expression slipped into a smile, so I diverted my eyes to the waitress who appeared with our shots.

Since we hadn't ordered when the waitress was at our table earlier, Damien asked for a beer while I went for an amaretto sour.

When she left, Iris held up her glass. "To good times."

"Oh, yeah." Kate grinned from my right as we all snatched our shots and clinked them together before tossing them back.

Iris was still looking at me with enjoyment plastered on her face from the quarrel with Damien and Tim, and I just knew she was going to hammer me with questions about my overbearing date later.

I let out a deep breath and shifted on my bar stool to look at Kate. Someone had to get a conversation rolling, so I said to her and Noah, "Congratulations on moving in together. How are things coming along with settling in?"

"We are _still_ unpacking." Kate's expression was of wonder. "I never realized how much work it took to move."

Noah slipped his arm around his girlfriend. "That's because you have over a hundred pairs of shoes and a closet the size of a damn master bedroom."

Iris and I laughed as Kate shot him a wicked glare.

"I do not." She pretended to be offended, but I wasn't buying it. "You're the one who took two U-Haul trips for your obsession with ATVs." She gazed at me. "I have no idea how one person can drive two four-wheelers, an enormous dirt bike, and"--she flippantly waved her hand in the air--"that other thing you have that is ridiculously dangerous."

"You mean, my new V-Twin 800cc Dune Buggy, babe?" Noah asked as the waitress returned with my and Damien's drinks.

I took a sip of my amaretto sour and found that it went down smoothly.

My chest rose and fell with laughter as I heard Damien hum his appreciation. "A V-Twin 800cc Dune Buggy? Nice."

"Yes, that thing," Kate huffed, feigning to be unhappy with her boyfriend.

"What can I say?" Noah chuckled throatily. "You have a shitload of shoes and purses and clothes galore, and I got my toys." He gravitated toward her with a boyish grin. "So, to me, it looks like we're even."

"Hardly," Kate snorted, pushing him away. "Your hobbies way outnumber mine in price."

"Doubtful," Noah roared in mirth before taking a sip of his beer.

"Where do you ride your dune buggy, Noah?" Damien piped in over the loud music around us.

"Anywhere I can, but mostly on local trails when I have the time." Noah's face lifted with interest as he twisted to face Damien. "Do you ride?"

"Yes." Damien's expression glowed. "I have a dirt bike and a few other toys."

"Sweet," Noah hummed in appreciation. "We'll have to plan a trip sometime and convince these two to go with us." He motioned to Kate and me before looking at Joshua. "Do you ride, too?"

"I used to," Joshua replied. "But I sold them when I bought my house last year."

"I'm sure we can work something out, so we can all go together," Damien offered.

"Definitely," Noah added, gazing sideways at Iris. "You down for coming with us?"

"I'm not sitting bitch, if that's what you mean." Iris smirked, eyes twinkling as she tipped her head toward Joshua, and she added, "There is no way I'm giving someone the chance to dump me on my ass, so I'll need my own."

"Hey, I won't dump you off!" Joshua playfully nudged Iris with his elbow and leaned toward her, chuckling. "Well, not on purpose."

Damien's deep laughter filled the air.

Iris glared at her date. "I'm not willing to take the risk."

Noah said, "You can take one of my four-wheelers, Iris."

"Thanks, Noah." Iris beamed.

The waitress approached with another round of shots.

I closed the space between Damien and me, intrigued by learning something new about him. "I didn't know you rode ATVs."

"That's because you haven't been in my other garage yet." Damien kissed the tip of my nose before drawing back to stare at me with adoring eyes. "And there are many things you don't know about me, gorgeous girl of mine." He gave me a breathtaking smile, yet it held a certain shyness that caught me off guard. "But you will, soon enough."

Over the next two hours, the seven of us chatted about this and that, getting caught up with one another. Iris and Kate had taken three more shots while I'd only had two, and I was still sipping on my first amaretto sour. Since I wasn't a big drinker, I wanted to pace myself. Damien, on the other hand, had only taken the first shot when we arrived, and he was content with still milking his beer.

It seemed as if we were a real boring pair.

_Ha!_ I laughed to myself.

Iris shot up from the table and clapped her hands. "All right, people. I'm liquored up properly, so I can now go shake my ass on the dance floor." She glanced over her shoulder at her date. "Come show me your moves, Joshua."

Tim rose out of his bar stool as Iris grasped Joshua's hand and led him through the crowd.

Kate rose from her seat next. "Let's go, Noah," she demanded.

Damien and I got out of their way as Kate yanked and pulled on a groaning Noah.

"Ah, you know how much I hate to dance, babe," he said.

"Too bad because I love it." She giggled mischievously, refusing to relent on her hold.

The two of them disappeared into the sea of bodies beneath the strobe lights. I was grateful when Tim followed behind them without looking at Damien and me.

I turned to look up at the man beside me. "And how about you, Damien Heathman?" I asked, slowly taking a step backward toward the commotion. "Are you the type of man to sit back in the chair and watch?" I briefly bit my lip, wondering where that line had come from. I blamed it solely on the alcohol coursing through my veins and then continued on with my preposterous bravery, "Or are you the kind of guy who's going to swoop me off my feet?"

He didn't look like a dancer. He was too...reserved and quiet, almost uptight.

But I planned to loosen him up.

His eyes gradually ran up and down the length of my body, as if undressing me by incinerating my dress to ashes. By the time his grays returned to my greens, they were smoking hot with a naked desire. "I'd definitely prefer to see that body of yours move from afar. That way, I won't miss a thing."

As tempting as that sounded coming from his mouth, I had other intentions, so I shook my head. "That doesn't work for me. I want to feel your hands on me as I sway my hips to the beat."

"Oh, you'll feel them," he stated confidently. "Later."

I wanted to win this battle, so I countered, "Not if you don't dance with me, so I suggest you come and find me." I spun on my heels and sashayed my hips with purpose and sass just so he'd know what he was missing out on if he denied me.

I went to join my friends on the dance floor where I immediately turned my mind over to the music pouring out of the speakers. I listened to the sound of the tempo more than the lyrics as I found my rhythm.

Tim came into my line of view, and I noticed he was coming my way, so I swiftly rotated and gave him my back. I knew Damien would be perusing me from a distance, and I wasn't foolish enough to mess with his possessive streak. I had no interest in Tim, but he was my friend, and I didn't want to see him with two black eyes.

I saw Joshua twirl Iris under his arm, and I smiled when she laughed. They seemed genuinely attracted to one another, and I was happy for her. It had been a long time since she dated a man. And after meeting him, I hoped he intended to stick around.

A ping of disappointment fell over me when I realized Damien wouldn't be joining me. It was okay though. I understood it wasn't who he was. He'd let me in by allowing me to lie on his bare chest, even if it was just that once in his bedroom, and he'd taken me on his boat where I'd witnessed him in his natural element. I couldn't blame him for being more reserved in public. Normally, without the power of alcohol under my belt, I was, too.

The DJ skipped the record and flawlessly shifted into another song. I changed my rhythm to match the new beat, as it was more flirty and sensual.

A couple accidentally bumped into me, so I pivoted out of their way. The people slightly parted in front of me, and my breath caught in my lungs. My movements came to a stop as Damien slowly stalked toward me with a deliberate purpose, stealing the show.

He stepped to the left and rocked those damn hips of his in perfect synchronization to the music, and then he glided to the right and rolled that waist of his again. All the while, his eyes were on me, only me, and each time he came a little closer, my heart beat a little faster. I was utterly hypnotized by him.

_Oh. Fucking. My._

The man could move. This domineering sexy man was giving me a private dance while owning the floor.

My blood pressure spiked feverishly, yet my eyes blurred with unshed tears. I threw my hand over my mouth to hold back my urge to cry at his gesture while smiling like crazy.

He'd come out here for me, no one else but me.

When Damien finally reached me, he rocked his hips into me with a wickedly sensual bump and grind of his pelvis. His smoldering grin was one to behold, and I feared for the safety of my heart.

I launched my arms over his shoulders, suddenly feeling unsteady. "You dance?" I asked in pure disbelief that this was real, that he was here, standing in front of me.

"Only for you, Raelyn." He bent down to kiss my lips. "Only for you," he murmured with a tender smile. "Now, dance with me, gorgeous girl."

"Thank you," I returned his expression, feeling a tear slip down my cheek.

Overcome with my emotions, I let my head fall against his chest. He began to sway back and forth with me in his arms, leading me. Our motions were slower than the people around us, but I didn't care. Damien was holding me, so I was perfectly content.

We stayed the same for three more songs until the DJ changed the music to a more upbeat song. Once again, Damien shocked me by guiding me around on the dance floor. He even twirled me beneath his arm. There was not a single second that I wasn't beaming from ear to ear.

By the time we were done, my arms were limp, and my legs were shaky. I felt completely famished.

He led me back to the table and pulled out my stool for me to sit down. Iris, Joshua, Kate, Noah, and Tim were already seated. I noticed the bar was even more packed with people now that it was getting later into the night.

Damien peered down at me and asked, "Would you like another amaretto sour or a glass of water?"

"A water, please."

"Okay, I'll be right back," he said before heading off to the bar.

"He dances?" Iris asked in that teasing tone of hers. Then, she winked at me.

"It would seem so." I laughed, still stunned myself.

As my friends started to converse with one another, my body temperature seemed to rise at an alarming rate. I inhaled deeply through my nose and released it, trying to calm myself.

It didn't work.

In fact, I was getting hotter by the second, and now, my stomach was beginning to spasm. It seemed that I definitely couldn't hold my liquor, and the loud music was making it worse.

A few seconds ticked by, and a sharp pain slashed through my temples. I gripped the bottom edge of the table to steady myself as Iris told Kate something about her ultrasound class, but I couldn't clearly make out her words. They were fuzzy in my mind.

My palms went clammy, and a thin sheen of sweat pooled at my nape. I was going to be sick.

Not wanting my friends to see me in such a sour state, I forced myself to slowly rise from the table and turned away from them before saying, "I need to use the ladies'--"

"Want me to come?" Iris cut in.

I held up my hand behind me as I advanced forward, not facing her. "No, no. I'm good. Be right back," I told her, surprisingly maintaining an even voice.

I hoped she believed me, but I didn't stick around to find out. I went straight into the crowd and weaved my way to the restroom. The strobe lights acted as stars brightly flickering before my eyes. It made it difficult to walk without staggering.

_This isn't good._

Choosing the last stall on the end, I threw myself down on my knees and gagged into the porcelain. "Gosh, I hate you," I groaned, well aware I was talking to a toilet. I'd seen enough of them during my chemo to last me more than a lifetime.

I closed my eyes as my belly muscles churned. Now, it hurt so badly that I did want to puke, but my body rebelled against me, denying me any signs of relief.

I sighed in defeat. I hadn't drunk that much to make me feel this dizzy, but I was never going to mix taking shots with amaretto sour again. _It must have been a horrible combination of the two drinks or something._

A vicious tremor raked through me, causing me to grip the toilet seat so that I wouldn't fall on the gross restroom floor.

I made my mind focus on something good while I silently counted to ten. I wasn't surprised when Damien was the first thing that came to me--that handsome face of his, that smile he seemed to reserve only for me, and those moves of his tonight. _Hot damn._ He was never going to get out of dancing with me again.

After a minute or several, my nausea finally seemed to pass. I needed to get back to Damien, so he could take me home. I spread my fingers wide to balance myself and stood to my feet to turn.

I heard the restroom door close as I came out of the stall. My eyes broadened when I saw Sage breezing into the room, looking fresh and delighted. I felt as though my eyes were playing tricks on me, but they weren't. It was definitely Sage, Cale's ex.

"Sage!" I smiled, distracted from my physical state at the sight of her. "It's so good to see you!"

"Oh my gosh, Raelyn!" She beamed and quickly came toward me to embrace me. "It's been so long."

I held my breath at the tight pressure she was inflicting on me, too thrilled to see her, and my lungs deflated when we pulled apart.

"You're right. It has been too long." I gave her a once-over to see she was wearing a stunning red dress that made her strawberry-blonde hair glimmer. "You look amazing, Sage. How are you?"

"I'm wonderful!" she exclaimed, repositioning her purse over her shoulder that must have fallen down her arm when we'd hugged. "I'm working on a whole new me since my dreadful divorce with Cale."

"I'm so sorry. That must have been awful for you both." I set my arm on hers as a comforting gesture, feeling genuine sadness for my friend. "I didn't know you two were having trouble with starting a family. I would have been there for you guys."

"A family?" Her head jutted back on her shoulders. "Raelyn, Cale and I weren't trying to have a baby. Sure, we talked about having kids someday down the line but not until I was at least thirty."

"Oh, I'm sorry." I frowned in confusion. "I must have misunderstood." My chest began to ache at Cale's continued dishonesty.

"Don't worry about it. Seriously, Cale is history." She facetiously waved her hand in the air. "I've moved on. Damien, a friend of mine, was kind enough to let me stay at his house while I get back on track." She raced on, eyes glowing, completely missing my shell-shocked expression, "Damien has been so kind to me. I'd be lost without him. He is even helping me work on the details of opening my business to be a wedding consultant. You know how much I love to coordinate details and decorate for lavish events." She grinned, looking over the moon to share her news.

I thoughtfully tilted my head to the side. "You mean, Damien Heathman?" I questioned. I was sure that I already knew her answer, but I wanted to be positive.

"Yes." Her smile broadened. "I don't think you've ever met Damien. Although, I'm sure you remember hearing of him. He was Cale's best friend. He was just devastated by what Cale had financially done to me over the last several months. And now that Damien and I have been spending more time together"--her eyes twinkled as she batted her long eyelashes and shrugged--"I'm hoping something might grow between us in the future."

Sage was always a babbling brook. Most of the time, I loved that about her, but tonight, not so much.

A bad combination of jealousy and anger bubbled inside me, and I didn't like the feeling. It wasn't the idea of Damien helping Sage financially, but she was making it sound as if it was much more than that.

I lifted a finger. "Excuse me. I have somewhere I have to be."

With her jaw dropping in astonishment at my curtness, I skirted around her with no time to explain. Oddly, my body felt better. I was thankful the queasiness and headache had subsided, but now, my heart hurt for a whole different reason.

The restroom door burst open before I could reach it, and in stormed the man himself.

His panicked eyes scanned the length of me, assessing me, and then they landed on my face. "There you are." He sighed in relief. "Are you okay? It took forever to get two waters from the bar, and when I returned to the table, you were gone."

I opened my mouth to speak, but Sage beat me to it.

"Damien, what a pleasant surprise!" She stepped around me and then came to an abrupt halt. "Wait." She glanced between Damien and me. "You two know each other?"

I smiled humorlessly. It was about time she figured that part out.

Damien took no notice of Sage, completely disregarding her, while he kept his eyes glued on me. He closed the gap between us, still scoping me out. "Raelyn, are you okay?" He drew his brows together as his hand came to my forehead. "You look pale."

"I'm fine." My voice was impassive as it dawned on me how foolish I'd been to trust another man. "I just need to get back to Iris."

I sidestepped to the right of him and scurried for the exit. I made it to the door without Damien getting ahold of me. It didn't last long though because he gently captured my arm in the midst of all the people as I tried to make my way back to my friends.

"Raelyn, what's gotten into you?" he growled, spinning me to face him.

I stared past him to see Sage quietly observing us with a look of pure jealousy plastered on her slender face. She wasn't even trying to mask it. It seemed my friend had claws when it came to Damien Heathman.

"Talk to me, please." Damien used his other hand to guide my cheek back to him, intently searching my gaze. "What happened in the time between when I left you to get us drinks and now?" He sounded genuinely hurt.

Well, so was I.

I didn't like having an audience, so I answered, "Nothing. Let's go back to our table."

His jaw danced with irritation. "Fine." He sighed and then narrowed his eyes at me with a stern glare. "But we are going to discuss this later."

We wouldn't because I wouldn't give Damien the chance to hurt me with anything he might have to say about him and Sage.

"Uh-huh," I mumbled.

I spun around to head to Iris, eager to get to her, with Damien hot on my heels. Lucky for Sage, she didn't follow us.

Once I neared my friends, I saw Kate, Noah, Iris, Joshua, and Tim all throw back another round of shots. Tim was sitting on my stool. If I weren't pissed at Damien, I would have given Tim a piece of my mind.

I purposefully leaned over the empty stool next to Iris, so Damien couldn't eavesdrop, and I asked her, "Can you and Joshua take me home?" I hoped they hadn't had too much to drink. In my head, I tried to count how many alcoholic beverages we'd had since our arrival.

"Why? What's wrong?" she queried, setting her empty glass on the table.

I gave her my not-now expression. "Is Joshua okay to drive?"

"Um..." She turned to glance at her date. "Can you drive?"

"Raelyn, if you want to leave, I'll take you." Damien's steel voice cut in from behind me as he gently grasped my arm and pulled me upright to face him.

I met his hard stare with one of my own. "No, thank you. Iris and her date will drive me."

"No, they won't." He briefly scouted out my friends before returning his attention to me. "They've both had too much to drink. You're not getting in the car with anyone but me."

"I'll call a cab," I retorted, standing my ground.

"Whoa. What's going on?" Tim piped in, making Damien's shoulders go taut.

"Nothing that concerns you," Damien replied dismissively.

"Anything to do with Raelyn _does_ concern me." He scrambled to his feet.

I noticed Iris, Joshua, Kate, and Noah were all silently watching the scene unravel before their eyes.

Tim came to my left side and set his hand on my shoulder, earning himself a territorial glare from Damien.

Tim didn't appear intimidated by Damien as he informed me, "Raelyn, I've only had a beer at lunchtime and two shots since then. I'm perfectly okay to drive you home."

Damien's large hands planted firmly on either side of my hips, and he pulled me into his side, the one that was farthest from my assistant. "Tim, if you know what's good for you, you'll stay out of this."

"Hey, I don't mean any harm, but--" Tim objected.

"Then, stop talking," Damien cut him off.

I was positive my jaw connected with the floor as I maneuvered myself to gape at the ridiculously overbearing hunk at my side.

Damien's glower drifted from Tim to me where it immediately shifted to a smug smile. He knew I wouldn't accept a ride from Tim.

"Now that we've concluded no one is driving you anywhere but me, are you ready to go?" His lip twitched in amusement.

_The cocky bastard._

"You are taking me home--to my apartment," I clarified before striding off.

I made it ten steps before I felt his hand on the small of my back, navigating me through the throng of people.

By the time my feet hit the pavement outside and the fresh air invaded my nose, I was a ticking time bomb ready to detonate at the slightest irritation.

Damien wasted no time in leading me through the parking lot to his car where he guided me inside and then came around to the driver's side. "Are you going to tell me what is the matter?" he snapped impatiently, slamming his door. "Or do I have to pry it out of you with a crowbar?"

I detested his metaphor of my inability to express myself, but then I thought of how fitting it truly was. In addition, he wasn't one to talk.

I was achy and tired, and I longed for the security of my own bed. So, I pushed my head into the back of the seat.

"A crowbar isn't strong enough to pierce steel," I whispered to myself.

Damien's eyes burned into mine before I let my own heavy ones fall shut.

"We'll see," Damien told me before he started the vehicle and began to drive off.

#

I stirred when I felt my body being lifted. The sound of a door closing startled me, and I threw my arms around Damien's neck to hang on to him. My body was weak with exhaustion.

"It's okay. I got you," he soothed before kissing my hair.

Blinking rapidly, I took in my surroundings. We were in his garage.

I was wide-awake now. "I asked you to take me home, Damien."

"I wasn't going to leave you by yourself." He frowned, appearing lost in his thoughts. "Especially when you weren't feeling well at the bar."

He made it into the breezeway connecting the house and the garage before I struggled against him so hard that he had no option but to put me down. I slightly swayed on my feet until I steadied myself.

"Raelyn, you're really testing my fucking patience, woman," he breathed, throwing his hands up in the air and letting them fall to his sides with a clear display of irritation on his features. "Would you please tell me what's wrong before I lose my mind?"

"Your patience? What about mine?" I pointed at my sternum, wanting to scream, but I was too tired. I crossed my arms over my chest, as if needing a thicker protection over my heart. "I asked you to take me to my apartment," I repeated.

I was on the verge of crying, not knowing what else to do or say. I didn't want him to see me like this, and I needed to pull myself together, so I stormed past him and didn't give him a chance to respond.

Longing for a reprieve, I went through his house to the patio door where I took off my shoes and chucked them aside before making my way down to the beach.

I stopped several feet in front of the ocean. With my arms still wrapped around my center, I stared out at the water and watched the moonlight reflect off the vast surface. It was truly a magnificent sight.

The wind blew across my face, and it made my hair whip around me. I smelled the salt in the air as I fought for calming breaths. I was so angry over my run-in with Sage and her forthcoming admission about Damien. I had no idea what to make of it, and I was irritated with Damien that he hadn't told me himself about helping her.

I closed my eyes, overwhelmed with my confusion.

Then, I sensed him before I heard him. I didn't need to turn around to know that Damien was standing behind me.

"You're the only woman I've ever let into my life, Raelyn." His voice was soft. "Yet, every time I ask you to talk to me, you push me away."

He took another step, and I turned my head a fraction to see his white shirt from the corner of my eye. My pulse increased at his proximity. I refrained from leaning back into him even though I was drawn to him.

He continued, "Who hurt you so deeply to make you feel this way?"

My heart recoiled at his invasive question, so I focused on the middle of his statement, the part that was the most operative here. "You want to talk?" My voice was dripping with sarcasm as I pivoted to look into his eyes. "Fine, let's talk. How about we start with restroom chats?" I wasn't proud of my tone, but I couldn't seem to rein it in.

"Or we could start with why you were in there again?" he challenged.

I didn't owe him an explanation, and I wouldn't allow him to distract me, so I ignored him and said, "You know, you had some nerve, asking me if _I_ was fucking Cale when, clearly, I should have been asking if _you_ were fucking his _wife_!"

I was overly fueled with anger and betrayal as my arm lifted and launched toward his face, preparing to slap him. He caught my wrist before my palm had the chance to connect with his cheek. Emotions ruled his features--terror, hurt, rage--all promptly filling me with a profound sense of guilt by my hasty actions.

"Don't ever hit me, Raelyn." His jaw clenched and released with each word and deliberate breath. He slowly lowered our arms to our sides while twining his fingers tightly around mine, refusing to let me go. "You can scream at me, curse me to hell, do whatever in the fuck you like to me." Those pleading gray eyes of his penetrated the depths of my wounded soul. "But I beg you, don't _ever_ lay a hand on me."

My remorse multiplied by thousands. Tears streamed down my face. He didn't need to explain. I knew this had something to do with his painful past, his scars.

Solemnly ashamed with myself and my heartlessness, my gaze dropped to the ground. "I'm so sorry." My lower lip trembled. "I don't know what I was thinking."

He wiped at the wetness dripping down my face with a tender touch I didn't deserve and told me, "You didn't know, Raelyn."

The floodgates opened, and my tears rushed harder. "Please, don't try to make me feel better about my disgraceful actions."

He tipped my face up. His soft expression was full of an astounding compassion I was unworthy of. "Too bad because I've already forgiven you." His voice was unwavering. "Sit down, and I'll do the talking."

I did as he'd said. Damien lowered to the ground behind me, opened his legs, and pulled me along his warm body. I draped my legs over his right thigh and twisted my upper body, so I could see his face.

He briefly glanced out at the ocean while his thumb stroked soothing circles in the center of my palm before looking back at me. "Sage came to me when she filed for her divorce from Cale. He'd left her with fourteen dollars in their joint savings account and a checking account that was overdrawn by more than six hundred. Her home with him had already been three months into foreclosure proceedings." He sighed. "That's where it all began. I found out from Sage that Cale was having money issues. From that point, it didn't take me long to find out that he was embezzling from me."

I winced, genuinely sad for Sage and what she must have endured. And Cale...I didn't even know where to start with him. It proved that it was possible to be close friends with a person for years without knowing who they truly were. It was times like these that their true character would make an appearance.

Damien continued without delay, "Sage was my friend long before Cale. She and I are the same age. We went to college together."

I quirked an inquisitive brow at him, wondering if he would answer me this time around. "And that is?"

He released a small laugh and snuck in a quick kiss before releasing a deliberately slow grin. "I'm thirty."

A five-year age gap was nothing to me, but I would definitely be teasing him about this later during a better time.

When he gave me an expectant look, I said, "I was close."

"You were close after three tries," he teased.

"No need to be picky about it." I rolled my eyes, feeling lighter inside even though we had more to discuss.

He was talking, and I would take it.

We both laughed.

Then, he spoke again, "Anyway, so when Cale left Sage broke and virtually homeless, I offered to let her stay in one of my vacant rental homes here in Sarasota for free until she was able to get back on her feet. Cale might have been my best friend, but I still felt as though I owed it to Sage to make sure she was okay."

"Oh, Sage made it sound as though she was living _with_ you and that you two were about to become a hot item." Deep down, I knew it was a lie because I'd stayed at his house, and I was the woman in his bed, but I still wanted answers as to why Sage had made it sound like that.

"Well, we both know that's not true."

"Then, why would she endeavor to make it sound as though she was?" The wheels in my mind were turning, remembering the way Sage had spoken of Damien and her fondness toward him. "She's in love with you," I stated. It made perfect sense.

"Yes, she is," he answered with irritation clear in his voice. "And she has been for years."

I gazed out at the water, unsure of how I felt to have my assumption confirmed.

Sage and Cale had been married for nearly two years. I wondered if Cale had been aware of her feelings for his best friend. It sounded like drama at its finest.

Damien gently brought his palm to my cheek and forced my eyes back to his. "Nothing has ever happened between us, Raelyn. Not even a kiss." His voice was strong. "I have no interest in Sage whatsoever, now or in the past." His eyes searched mine. "You do believe me, right?"

"Yes," I responded without hesitation. There was no reason for me not to trust him in regard to Sage. Plus, I could tell in his tone that he wasn't besotted with her the way she was with him.

"Good," he stated. "Because I'd _never_ touch another man's woman. Ever."

It dawned on me that Damien and I had both been friends with Sage and Cale for several years, yet our paths hadn't crossed a single time, so I asked, "Why do you think we've never met before?"

"Actually, I've thought about that question a lot recently," he began, soothing my skin with tender caresses. "It's part of why I wanted to meet you before I made my decision on how to proceed with Cale's embezzlement. I'd casually heard about you over the years from Cale." He paused, appearing thoughtful. "The only conclusion I've been able to make is that Sage didn't want us to become acquainted."

"That would make sense if she viewed other women as competition. But if she was in love with you, why did she marry Cale?"

"Since I never showed an interest in her during our college years, my guess is that she thought dating Cale would make me jealous. She never finished her degree. So, when Adam and Jennings Accounting Services started to become successful, I think she saw Cale as a suitable provider." His expression went thoughtful. "Although, I am surprised you weren't at their wedding."

"Iris and I were supposed to go, but she ended up having emergency surgery to remove her appendix that week." I frowned at the memory, recalling how much pain she had been in. "I stayed home to take care of her."

"Oh, that's a shame. I'm glad she's okay."

"Me, too," I agreed.

"But I must say that I'm sorely disappointed."

In a split second, I was shuffled around and pinned on my back with his towering frame looming over me. His mischievous grin was firmly in place.

"I could have been tasting these gorgeous lips all this time." He nudged my thighs apart with his own and settled between them. "I think we owe it to ourselves to make up for lost time."

My playful sass surfaced. "I don't know. Now that I'm aware of your age, I think you might be a bit too old for me," I drawled with false reservations, but my smile was giving me away. "You're already the dirty thirty, and I'm still in my prime." I bit my lower lip to keep from laughing.

"Is that so?" he challenged, grasping my nape to tilt my face up toward his.

Our mouths were less than an inch apart. His gaze burned into mine, filled with heat and purpose. He was ready to devour me. That familiar spark between us was electrifying and powerful.

"Yes," I whispered raggedly, losing my breath at the sight of him.

"We'll see about that," he growled.

I swallowed, instantly certain he was going to make me regret teasing him.

He hooked his thumbs under the edge of my dress and nudged it up, one side at a time. My eyes briefly fell closed as my insides came to life at the feel of his hands on me.

"Has anyone else ever made your skin tingle and burn the way that I do?" he asked quietly.

"No," I answered without delay.

The soft material of the dress gathered at my waist, baring the scrap of black lace that covered me to his hungry eyes.

"And what about here?" Damien gradually glided his hand to my center where he tugged my panties out of the way. He skimmed his finger up and down the folds of my sex with the faintest touch, driving me wanton, as all my blood rushed to throb at my center. "Has anyone ever made your sex pulse out of control the way I can?" he demanded. His voice was drenched with a raw, primal desire.

"No." I could barely speak or think. All I felt was my burning need for him.

He quickly stripped his shorts and boxers and sheathed himself before returning his hand to my dripping core to spread my arousal.

"And each time I take you, bury myself deep within you"--he pressed his finger inside me, creating a delicious friction--"who are all your thoughts of?" he finished at last.

My head thrashed from side to side as my aching muscles gripped ahold of him, clinging to him. I squeezed my thighs around him in an effort to relieve some of the pressure building within me.

He came up over me and braced his weight on his left forearm while continuing his assault on me with his right. In the hard angles of his face, there was a profound longing to claim me. "Answer me, Raelyn." His voice was rough and guttural. He withdrew his finger and ascended to make lazy swirls around my clit. "I want to hear the word leave your delectable lips."

I almost came right then, but I needed him to take me to our special place where it was just me and him, nothing and no one else.

Grabbing his shirt, I pulled his face to mine and choked, "You." I was breathless. "Just you."

Pure male satisfaction spread across his features. "Damn fucking straight, it's me," he grunted. He cupped my nape and drew me close, so he could cover my lips for an earth-shattering kiss. "I'm going to take what's mine"--he sank into my slick throbbing heat, deeply penetrating me--"and I'll give you what's yours. There is no you and me anymore, Raelyn. There is only _us._ "

As Damien set the pace, my hips came off the ground to meet him. I let my eyes fall shut as I nodded my acceptance, overcome by the emotions and sensations clashing and colliding within me.

This man was determined to make me his, to make my heart and soul feel, and I could no longer ignore my feelings for him. He wasn't piercing the armor around my heart. No, Damien Heathman was melting it, destroying it with his words and his actions. Here, in this moment, with the way he made me feel when our bodies came together, it was as if I were the only thing that mattered to him.

He reclaimed my mouth, and I felt the second the air shifted between us. This was not just an ordinary kiss or a simple attraction to one another. There was an equal expression of something more--adoration, affection...and heartwarming love.

After closing myself off from the world for so long, there were no words to describe how it felt when my heart swelled and expanded profusely in my chest, literally to the brink of pain.

When every muscle in my stomach pulled tight, Damien softly demanded, "Look at me, Raelyn."

I felt him harden within me. The muscles in his jaw flexed. But neither were what captivated me. It was the look in his stunning gray eyes. They were glowing with every emotion I felt inside.

"Just _us,_ " he whispered.

And together, we let go, hopelessly lost in each other and deeply connected beyond what my heart could bear.

As we caught our breaths, Damien rested his hip at my side and draped his arm over me, tightly holding me to his body. Nothing had ever felt so good. I felt safe, wanted, and utterly content as the ocean waves crashed into the shore in front of us.

An unknown amount of time passed before Damien nuzzled his nose into my neck. "I don't want to move and break this moment, but I want to hold you in my bed, so I can feel you against me as I doze off into a restful sleep."

His comment sounded heavenly, and I slightly rotated my head to see his face.

"Hmm...so you can dream of me?" I asked with a tender smile.

"With you in my arms, Raelyn, I dream of all kinds of things I never thought possible before you." He pressed his lips to my forehead with a tender adoration that reached in and touched my soul.

I ran my fingers through his soft locks and kissed him one last time even though I was always longing for more where he was concerned. "Then, take me to bed."

He did, and I felt myself dreaming of wishful possibilities, too.

#

I shot upright in bed at the sound of an ear-screeching alarm sounding off over and over again, and I covered my ears.

"Damien! Damien, what's that noise?" I asked frantically as the bed shifted beside me.

"My house alarm."

I heard his quick strides across the room to turn on the bedroom light. My eyes squinted at the harsh brightness.

"Stay here." His tone seemed uneasy and on edge.

Damien dimmed the light until it was a soft glow, and then he exited the room.

Seconds ticked by.

My heart raced uncontrollably at the idea of being left alone with no clue as to what was going on. I bit the inside of my cheek, contemplating on what to do. Something or someone had to have triggered the alarm, and Damien had left to see what it was.

Knowing I couldn't just remain here without feeling helpless, I stood to my feet and padded out of the bedroom. The beeping came to a stop as my shaky feet carried me down the hallway to the junction of the staircase. My eyes scanned the open space.

Damien was nowhere in sight.

Once I reached the bottom of the stairs, I could see the front door ajar. My chest seized with terror at the notion of an intruder being outside. I glanced back and forth at my surroundings, looking for anything to defend myself, when I tiptoed into the foyer.

There was a long umbrella hanging from the coat rack on the wall, so I hastily grabbed it and held it in my grip like a bat, ready to swing.

Goose bumps rose on my skin as I peeked my head out the front door. "Damien, where are you?" I cried, unsure if I should continue outside.

The yard was illuminated by lighting placed against the house and along the driveway.

Keeping my back pressed into the stucco of the house, I advanced onto the concrete patio with my weapon of choice, prepared to strike if necessary.

A human shadow came in view, ambling up the driveway, followed by a second taller shadow. The bigger person of the two appeared to be shoving the smaller one forward.

As the two of them neared, it became clear that the person in front was just a boy, a teenager. And the second man was Damien, a very angry Damien.

"Does your father know you're here?" Damien's steel voice flowed through the air.

The boy stopped and slightly turned to face Damien. His side profile looked utterly hysterical. "No. Please, please don't tell him where I am." He grappled at Damien's shirt. "Please. You can't tell him!"

A profound sadness fell over me at the desperation radiating off of the boy. He was petrified.

"Let's go inside, William, and get you cleaned up." Damien's face filled with compassion, yet fire still lingered within his features.

The boy exhaled deeply. "Okay."

As the boy came closer, my heart went free-falling into my stomach. Blood was smeared down the boy's nose and across his lower lip and cheek. His eyes looked hollow and dark. A purple bruise was forming on his right cheek.

I ran off the porch and barreled forward at full speed toward the boy.

"Did you hit him?" I screamed at Damien, outraged, as I inadvertently aimed the umbrella at him.

His head whipped back on his shoulders as he came to an abrupt halt. "No, of course not!" Damien yelled.

His gaze darted between my weapon and me, and I lowered my arm to my side.

"What happened?" I cried, turning to face the boy.

He must have been sixteen or seventeen years of age. He was a good half foot shorter than Damien but far too skinny.

The boy cringed with fright, and he stared down at the ground.

I instantly felt guilty. "I'm sorry," I softly told him. "Are you okay?"

He was quiet for a moment before making eye contact with me. "I-it wasn't Damien."

My lips parted as I sucked in a gulp of air, and I looked to Damien for an answer. He pinched his brows together in a pure sign of distress and shook his head, as if saying not now.

I gently rested my arm on the back of the boy's shoulder and said, "Let me walk you in, and you can wash up, whatever you need." My voice cracked, overcome with emotions.

The three of us walked inside the house, and I dropped the umbrella to the ground before turning to see Damien staring at me.

"Just what in the hell did you think you were going to do with that?"

"Hit someone." I shrugged, feeling slightly embarrassed. It had been better than going out empty-handed.

"Right..." he drawled with a hint of amusement. "We'll talk about that later." He shifted his attention to the boy. "The bathroom is down that hall, first door on the right. You go shower, and I'll find you some clean clothes and a first-aid kit."

"A-are you sure?" William stuttered at a loss, causing my chest to constrict.

"Yes," Damien answered without hesitation.

"Why? Y-you don't even know me." William added, "Well, not really."

The tightness around my heart increased even more.

Damien parted his lips to speak as a deep sense of pain quickly and powerfully flitted across his features. I felt winded from just witnessing it.

No words came out.

He snapped his mouth shut. An unreadable mask slipped over his face.

Seconds felt like hours before Damien tried to talk again. "You're _always_ welcome in my home, William," he declared with a warm gentleness I'd not heard him use toward anyone other than me before. "And now, you're not going anywhere until I say so. I need to know you're safe. I'll make up a room for you."

William tucked his chin to his chest and slowly nodded. "Thank you." He sniffled. "I appreciate your hospitality."

"There is no need to thank me, William." Damien lightly squeezed the boy's shoulder. "I'm glad you came to me."

"Me, too," the boy said before walking off.

I directed my confusion to Damien, wondering how and why he was welcoming a teenage boy he knew--but, somehow, didn't really know--into his home. "Who is he?" I asked, breaking the silence first.

Damien stared after William until he went down the hall and shut the door behind him. Turning his tortured grays on me, he said, "He's my nephew."

Agony sliced through my heart, penetrating the depths of my soul. "Did..." I trailed off, unsure if I could ask the question burning holes in my mind, but I had to. "Did your brother do this to him?"

He turned to look at me with void eyes. "He's not my fucking brother."

"Okay..." I swallowed thickly. Understanding that he hadn't meant to lash out at me, I let it go and corrected my error. "Is this your stepbrother's doing?"

"I'm not sure." He stared at the hallway where William had disappeared. There were too many emotions on Damien's face to place as he added, "But I'm going to find out."

As Damien cleared out one of the spare bedrooms, I searched every bathroom in the house to gather supplies for William. I took them with me and went to knock on the bathroom door. He'd been in there for an hour, and I was worried.

"William, may I come in?" I asked quietly.

I heard shuffling, and then the door opened. William stood before me and nervously shifted on his feet.

I gazed up at him with gentle eyes and showed him what was in my hands. "I brought you some Neosporin, Band-Aids, and some other first-aid items."

"Thank you."

The cuts on his lip and eyebrow looked rather deep, and they were bleeding again from his recent shower, so I asked, "Would you like me to help?"

"Sure." He backed up into the space and allowed me to enter.

Anxiety rolled off of him in dense waves as I set my supplies on the counter next to him.

Since he was much taller than me, I went to the toilet and closed the lid. "Can you sit here, please?"

When he did, I scooted the stuff over along with me. I glanced at the cut on his eyebrow again and restrained myself from wincing. My heart ached at the idea of someone hurting this young man.

I opened the container of rubbing alcohol, tipped it over onto a cotton roll to saturate it, and then opened the package of sterile gauze and a butterfly Band-Aid.

Carefully, I tended to his wound by patting the area. When he flinched away from me, I did, too, at the idea of causing him more pain. I kept my movements slow until it was clean, and then I dried it with gauze, noting his face was lightly dusted with freckles.

"Is it going to leave a scar?" William asked, barely above a whisper.

I gazed at the wound and then back at him again. I reached for the butterfly Band-Aid and applied it to the area. "I can't be sure, but I hope not."

I started to clean the one-inch gash on his lip.

William instantly recoiled at my touch. "Ouch."

I pulled back. "I'm so sorry."

"It's okay." He shook his head. "It's not you. It just stings."

I waited a moment, unsure if I wanted to touch him again, knowing I would undoubtedly cause him more agony. After a moment of silence, he looked up at me with such pain that my chest constricted.

"Did I make the right choice by coming here?" he queried. "Is my uncle a good man? Or is he like my father?" He stared past me, appearing lost in his own thoughts. "Because I've overheard stories...about him--about Damien, I mean." His expression went grave. "I thought if I came to Damien, he'd understand what I was going through, that he might believe me and help me...even if no one else in my family did."

It took everything that I had inside not to reach forward and wrap this boy in my arms. The only reason that I didn't was because I was terrified to frighten him off.

I'd only known Damien for a short time, but I was certain he'd been terribly abused as a child. Now, to have William in front of me, suffering from the same maltreatment...it was shattering my soul into a million pieces.

I might not know Damien as well as I hoped, but I was sure of one thing. "I'll be completely honest with you, William," I began, causing the boy to meet my gaze. "Damien has only been in my life for a short time, but I know, in my heart, that you are safe with him, and he'll help you in any way that he can. He's a good man."

William intently stared at me before asking, "Would you trust him with your own life?"

"Yes," I stated without missing a beat. It was true. I would.

I lifted a Band-Aid and slowly moved toward him.

He leaned far away from me and glanced at me with pleading eyes. "Then, promise me that you won't let him take me back there."

My lips parted, and I inhaled a deep breath, so desperately longing to make that pledge to him. But the awful, sad truth was that it wasn't my place to make it.

"I promise," rang loud and clear from the hallway with an unwavering determination. "You're not leaving my sight until I'm positive you'll be safe."

My breath hitched in my lungs as I turned to see Damien leaning against the hallway wall, watching us. The light from the bathroom illuminated the hard set of his jaw. Even full to the brim with rage, he was beautiful and strong.

"Leave us." Damien's haunted eyes met mine. "Please. William and I need to talk."

I nodded with the Band-Aid still in my hand. "Of course. Just let me--"

"It's okay," William said. "You can leave that one off. I wouldn't be able to move my mouth with it on."

I walked over to the door where I met Damien at the threshold.

He gently caught my wrist. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," I replied quietly before reaching up on my toes to place a reassuring soft kiss on his lips. "I'll wait upstairs."

Going up the staircase and into Damien's bedroom, I crawled into bed and slipped beneath the covers where I tossed and turned as I waited and waited and waited for him to return.

It must have been a solid two hours before I felt him enter the room. Tension and anger and sadness rippled outward into the space as he neared. The bed dipped, and he eased toward me.

Flipping on his side, he rested his leg and arm over me, caging me in. He pressed his nose into my hair, and I heard his unsteady breaths as I lay on my back.

I wanted to ask him if he was okay or if he wanted to talk about it, but I could tell by his demeanor that he didn't. So, I tightly held him with one arm while lifting my spare one to tenderly stroke his hair, letting him find comfort in holding me.

There was no chemistry brewing between us in this moment. It was just him and me as I tried to soothe him and offer him some sort of solace with my presence.

"Thank you," I finally murmured at last, unable to stay quiet.

"For what?"

There were so many reasons that I was thankful for the way he'd handled William tonight--for not sending him back to an abusive home, for opening his own home to a scared teenager, regardless of the consequences of his actions, but most of all, for vowing to help William and keep him out of harm's way.

Damien might not have told me much of who he was, but tonight, he'd _shown_ me the kind of man he was. And it was the kind of person I admired deeply.

I said none of those things though because there would be another time to talk about them. Right now, all I could say without bursting into tears was, "For being you."

#

I hadn't seen Damien since Saturday morning when I kissed him good-bye, so he could continue to work things out with William without me being in the way. Damien had tried to reason with me to stay, but something inside of me had told me that they needed some alone time together. It had been a hard decision to make, but it felt right. William needed his uncle.

Damien had kept me up-to-date with phone calls and texts throughout the workweek. He'd conversed with his attorney and with William's mom, Suzanne, once William had agreed to fill her in. She had come to Damien's house, alone, so they could all talk on neutral ground. She'd agreed to let William stay with Damien for a week while she contacted her own attorney about how to proceed with her husband's abuse toward their son.

The whole ordeal saddened me dearly. It had to have been such an unbearably traumatic experience for William. I hadn't pried for any details on the subject since I was trying to respect everyone's privacy. I'd let Damien tell me only what he wanted, and I'd let him know that I was there for him in any way that he needed me.

In truth, I missed him more than I'd ever thought possible, but I completely understood that William and his mother needed Damien more than me.

Friday morning had come and gone in the blink of an eye as Tim and I tried our best to keep up on all the clients of Adam & Jennings, including Cale's accounts, too. I had yet to hear a word from him, but at this point, I was counting it as a blessing because I was beyond stressed.

Tim and I were knee-deep in searching through accounting records for a new client when a knock sounded at my door.

"Come in," I said, glancing up at the clock to see that it was nearly one in the afternoon.

The biggest grin spread across my face when Damien entered the room, carrying a clear bag in his hand.

"I have a private Subway delivery for a certain sexy sandy-blonde haired girl who happens to be mine," Damien hummed from the back of his throat with a grin. Then, he instantly paused several feet away from me when he took in the piles and piles of documents surrounding Tim and me on the floor. "Wow. That is a _lot_ of paper."

"Careful. Don't knock any of them over." I laughed and quirked a brow at him.

He hadn't mentioned anything to me about stopping by today.

"You brought me lunch?" I asked in awe, realizing I was on the verge of starving.

"It's not a five-course meal or anything, but it's food," he countered, stepping in between the stacks of documents to get to me. "Where in the hell are we going to sit?"

I was in desperate need of some alone time with Damien even if we just ate our sandwiches together, so I kindly told Tim, "Why don't you go take a lunch break, and we can dive back in when you return?"

Tim frowned and argued, "But, Raelyn, we still have to finish this new account."

"Yes, but we need to refuel, or we won't get much accomplished."

"But the clock's ticking, and Mr. Kline wanted to hear back from you tonight."

"And he will," I stated.

Damien gave Tim what I presumed to be a don't-fuck-with-me glare and said, "Take a hike, buddy."

Tim leaped to his feet and peered down at me. I could tell he was stifling his irritation at the intrusion.

"All right. I'll be back by one thirty," Tim said.

"Two," Damien countered, domineering as ever.

Tim looked at me for confirmation, so I said, "Two o'clock, Tim."

Tim gave me a curt nod and sighed. "Two, it is."

"Wise choice," Damien murmured under his breath.

Tim left the room and closed the door behind him. Damien backtracked to flip the lock. I almost asked him why he'd locked it, but I figured that he wanted me all to himself with no interruptions.

I still couldn't help but grin at him as he closed the space between us. "Has anyone ever told you that you're extremely stubborn and determined?"

"All the time." Damien's expression reflected my own, but his was slightly more devious as he lowered into Tim's former spot.

"I'm not surprised," I teased, snatching the Subway bag from him to peek inside. "What did you bring me?"

I pulled out two subs. Damien gently took his from me, and we both began to pull off the wrappers.

"Well, I know that you love anything with chicken, so I ordered you a chicken, bacon, and ranch sandwich." He smiled gently at me. "I hope you like it."

"You can never go wrong with that combination. Just the thought of it is making my mouth water." I took a big bite off the end.

Damien watched my mouth as I chewed. His eyes darkened with unmistakable heat. "Don't say things like that to me when I haven't buried myself in you for seven long days."

I rolled my eyes and kept eating. _That was such a guy thing to say._ "I'm sure you'll survive."

"I won't...for much longer, so I suggest you eat fast," he demanded. Then, he engulfed a bite of his sandwich.

"You'd better be joking." I gaped at him as if he'd lost his mind.

He ignored me as he continued to devour his sub. Then, he said, "Oh, I can assure you, I'm not."

Deciding it was better to let it go than to argue with him, which would undoubtedly lead to him taking me in my office, I went back to satisfying my rumbling stomach.

Once we were finished, we put our empty wrappers back into the Subway bag. I was thrilled to see that I still had Damien for another forty minutes until Tim returned.

Damien moved our garbage off to the side. Then, he picked up a stack of papers in the middle of us and lifted them to place them on the side of my desk behind us.

"So, what's with all the accounting papers? And why does a new client expect you to be finished by tonight?" Damien asked, scooting closer to me.

"Mr. Kline has made some hefty demands." I groaned in exasperation and laid my head in Damien's lap.

"Then, tell him no." He ran his fingers through my hair.

It felt so good to feel his hands on me after going so long without his touch.

"I would have if he hadn't offered me such an outrageous sum of money for rushed services."

"Then, you've dug your own hole, gorgeous girl." Damien chuckled.

I couldn't argue with him there, so I sighed and told him, "I sure did."

I closed my eyes and reveled in his touch, perfectly content in his arms, even though I should have been getting back to work. It was going to be a long afternoon. Hopefully, with Tim's help, we'd maintain a steady pace and be done by six or so.

"Do you have plans for tomorrow night?" Damien asked out of the blue.

"No."

"I was hoping you'd accompany me to a charity that I have to make an appearance at."

"I'd love to." I smiled, excited to spend time with him tomorrow. "Do you attend many of those?"

"No, Heathman Enterprises makes regular donations to many, but I don't have the time to go to them all." His eyes seemed to drift off until he finally added, "Only a select few."

The fact that he wanted me with him at this particular one piqued my interest, but then I thought of his nephew being alone, so I asked, "What about William?"

The slightest stiffness that spread throughout Damien's body did not go unnoticed by me. "He's leaving with his mom in the morning."

"Oh." I frowned, hoping he'd elaborate just a tiny bit. "Is everything okay?"

"Yes. At least, I hope so. Suzanne and William are going to her sister's house in Orlando." He propped his back against the desk. "Suzanne filed for a divorce from my stepbrother this week, and she also filed a restraining order for her and William."

"Is that what William wanted?" I asked, unable to bite my tongue.

"Yes. William loves his mom, and over the past week, I've witnessed her undying love for her son. William also got Suzanne to confess that Drake had been abusing her, too. Suzanne and William both want to move on and start a new life together, so I helped them take the proper actions."

That was the first time I'd heard Damien say his stepbrother's actual name. "Drake? That's your stepbrother's name?" I asked gently.

Damien went from being a little stiff under my body to hard as a rock in a flash. I had a feeling that his hatred for his stepbrother went deeper than what had happened with William. I feared Damien's animosity toward Drake originally stemmed from their childhood.

It was as though an eternity passed before Damien finally responded with, "Yes, but I don't want to talk about him." He maneuvered me onto my back.

"Damien!" I protested weakly, laughing. "Don't mess up my documents for work!"

It was too late. The pile on the left had toppled over.

He straddled my waist and ordered, "Then, stop squirming, so I can kiss you."

I linked my arms around his neck and smiled up at the handsome man towering over me. All the while, I defiantly shook my head at him, so he couldn't make his move.

"You seem to have a gift for distracting me," I said, wishing he would tell me more about his stepbrother.

"I'm going to take that as a compliment." He grinned devilishly.

I arched a stern brow, ignoring his sexy dimple that had appeared at the corner of his mouth. "It's not."

He closed the small gap between our mouths and nipped at my lower lip. My heart rate skyrocketed as my body went to mush under him, overheating from his touch.

"I think it's one of the things you love about me," he breathed, brushing his lips across mine.

Wicked heat blazed in his eyes and settled between my thighs.

The heavy weight of his statement left my mind reeling. _Love_ was not a word to be used lightly, yet I couldn't help but revel in the way it'd sounded coming from him.

Feeling trapped in his stare and desperately yearning to escape it, I gave myself over to the desire coursing through me and yanked him down on me for a passionate kiss.

I hadn't tasted him in days, so I poured myself into our embrace. I wanted him to know just how much I'd missed him. His eagerness matched mine as our tongues caressed and stroked one another's.

His hands glided up my shirt and teased a trail from my stomach to my breasts. They were heavy and full, aching to be touched, so I arched into him. I gasped when I felt his hardness pressing into me.

I wanted him here, in my office, but my sense of reason suddenly made a hasty appearance, and I drew back, gasping for air.

"Damien, we can't," I panted. "Not in my office."

His hot breath came to my ear. "Do you think that would stop me?" He nipped at my lobe. "Any place, anytime, Raelyn. I'll take what's mine." He kissed his way down my bare throat while working his hand beneath my bra to tease my taut nipple.

I drew in a swift breath.

He chuckled. "After all, you started it."

I bit my lip to stifle my groan when he gently rolled my nipple between his thumb and index finger, sending a massive wave of pleasure from my breast straight to my groin. I clenched my thighs together to ease the building pressure.

"Then again, anticipation can be so much sweeter than giving you what you want now." He pressed his lips to mine one last time and then stood to his feet with a great big smirk on his face. "And I need more time for what I have in mind for you."

He was trying to mask the heat in his gaze, but I could see right through him. He was just as affected as I was.

"What are you doing?" I tried to keep my tone even as I sat up.

But it was useless. _He's just going to leave me all hot and bothered? The jerk._

"Leaving." His eyes danced with mirth. "I have an important meeting at two thirty with the CEO of Grandsboro International about a possible merger with two of our companies. It's a great opportunity for Heathman Enterprises to expand its horizon and go abroad."

I was quickly distracted by the fact that he was offering information about his job. It was something he had never done, outside of Cale stealing from him.

"Oh, good luck." I smiled genuinely.

"Thank you." He smiled almost shyly.

This had to be some appointment if it made Damien nervous.

He made his way over toward the door and unlocked it before pausing to glance over his shoulder. "And, Raelyn?"

"Yes?"

"A surprise is waiting for you at your apartment. Be dressed in lace by eight." He winked, and then he was gone.

_Lace?_ I wondered what that was all about.

I grinned to myself and lay back down on the floor to enjoy my last few minutes of peace and quiet before my break was over. 

#

As I slipped myself into the black lace gown that Damien had surprised me with yesterday evening, I found myself counting down the minutes until he arrived for our date. He still hadn't told me what kind of charity it was, but I was excited that he was including me in it.

I'd even matched the floor-length gown with a new black lacy bra and panty set, and I couldn't wait to see the look on Damien's face when he saw them.

My hair was pulled up off my shoulders, leaving my back bare. I'd tried to keep my makeup light, except for a soft smoky look to contrast my green eyes. And I'd added a rosy-pink blush to brighten my unusually pale face.

In truth, I guess I hadn't kept my makeup as bare as I'd intended for it to be, but I'd let tonight be an exception because I felt utterly beautiful wearing it, and I needed the extra color in my cheeks.

I went back into my bedroom to put on a pair of black heels. It made me smile when I realized that I was completely dressed in Damien's favorite color.

The doorbell chimed. I released a nervous breath, but I was equally excited to see the man who consumed all my thoughts these days.

My heels clinked on the floor as I went to the kitchen counter to grab my clutch and keys before heading over to the door to open it.

I immediately lost my breath at the sight of Damien in a black tux with his dark brown hair lightly combed with a light gel or mousse.

He looked...ravishing.

His shoulders filled out his suit perfectly while concealing all his tattoos. Strength, confidence, and sex radiated out of him, nearly knocking me off my feet. He looked just as he had the day when I first met him--only, now, there were no hard edges on his face. There was only heat and adoration for me.

"You look..." Damien trailed off, as if losing his train of thought.

I gazed into the depths of his gray eyes to see them darkening with desire by the second.

"Breathtaking." He stared up at me, and that smile of his that he reserved solely for me was firmly in place. "Absolutely breathtaking, Raelyn," he finished, leaning in for a kiss.

My heart stammered in my chest.

"The same could be said about you," I countered as we parted.

"But it wouldn't carry the same meaning." He shook his head with a clear sign of denial. "I'm going to be fighting off men by the dozen after they all ask you to dance with them tonight."

I lifted a teasing brow and smirked. "Then, you had better dance with me."

"Are you making demands, gorgeous girl?" He drew me into his arms and slid his palm down my bare torso. "Because the odds might be in your favor as long as you're wearing all this black lace."

"I am," I answered swiftly, shivering when he reached the small of my back. I inwardly grinned, knowing there was more lace beneath the dress.

"Then, I guess I'd better oblige and surprise you with more of my moves tonight, so no one has the opportunity to steal you away from me."

I blushed, recalling our night at the bar and the stamp he'd placed on my heart by coming out on the floor to dance with me. "Don't make me swoon too much though, or I might fall on my face."

"I can't make any promises. I have to make your heart skip a beat whenever I get the chance." He laughed softly and pressed his lips to my cheek. "Well, we'd better get going, or we'll be late."

Damien led me out of my apartment. I locked up behind us before we made the short journey down the stairwell of the building and outside. There was a sleek sports car with a man in a suit waiting next to the open back door.

"Wow..." I murmured in awe with my eyes glancing between Damien and the car. "Did you rent this just for tonight?"

"No, it's one of mine that I store in another garage." He smiled down at me. "I only drive it on special occasions. Do you like it?"

I lowered down into the seat, noting the premium leather material under me. It was as if I were sitting on silk. Damien slid in beside me.

"Oh, yes, it's lovely. What kind of car is this?" I asked over the soft noise of the driver closing us in.

"It's an electric Tesla Model S." He grinned boyishly. "It can go from zero to sixty in two-point-eight seconds."

"Whoa."

The driver settled into the front seat, started the car, and pulled out into traffic. I barely felt the movement. It was so smooth that it felt as if we were gliding in air.

As we began to drive through town, Damien linked my fingers with his and caressed the inside of my palm with the tip of his finger where he traced a circular pattern over and over again. His touch was slow and deliberate, the complete opposite of my racing heart, yet I could feel the unease emitting out of him. Something was worrying him.

I wanted nothing more than to bombard him with a list of questions. Afraid I might tip his emotions over the edge, I held myself back. And by the looks of his anxious state, he needed this time to himself. So, instead, I let us travel in silence.

When the Tesla was finally put into park and the passenger door swung open seconds later, I felt unprepared for the scene unfolding before my eyes.

Blinding bright flashes were fired at Damien and me as a crowd of paparazzi swarmed and shouted at him. Damien rose out of the car, pivoted to face me, and bent at the waist to give me a helping hand. I came to stand next to him on the red carpet lining the pathway up the steps that led to a huge entrance.

He hauled me into his side and wrapped a protective arm around my back while leaning in to put his lips to my ear. "Stay close to me, and don't stop for anyone," he instructed impassively with his mask firmly in place.

I observed _my_ Damien was gone. The man before me was Damien Heathman, prestigious owner of Heathman Enterprises.

All I could do was nod my head in agreement before the harsh bulbs were aimed at us from every direction while questions were shouted at him.

"Damien, will you donate five billion dollars again this year to AVFK?" a woman asked.

I wondered what the abbreviation stood for.

"Why so much? Is it because this charity is personal for you?"

Our driver came to our rescue and shoved back a man who had stepped in front of our path.

A long pole with a large microphone was dangled in front of our faces from afar. "Mr. Heathman, were you abused as a kid?"

My steps faltered, and Damien shoved the microphone out of our way and gently pulled on my arm to keep us in motion.

"Damien, who is the woman on your arm tonight?"

None of the queries made Damien's steps toward the entrance falter, except for one.

"Mr. Heathman, why did you start this charity for kids? Why not a different one?"

Still maintaining a firm hold on me, Damien whipped his attention over to the short guy, making him shrink back. "Because _every_ kid deserves to have a voice."

More than three-dozen flashes sounded off as the same man stepped forward, waving his microphone. "Does A Voice for Kids have anything to do with your emancipation from your own parents when you were--"

_Holy fuck._

Damien rested his hand on the small of my back and gave me a somewhat firm push forward. The remainder of the man's question faded into the background noise as other paparazzi kept shouting.

I was on the verge of hyperventilating and overflowing with rampant emotions by the time we reached the inside of the building.

Not Damien. Irritation seeped out of his every last pore as he softly veered me off to a secluded hallway.

His hand fell from mine as he leaned forward to brace himself on the wall. "Fuck, I don't know what I was thinking," he growled, slamming his palm into the corner of a doorjamb. "I shouldn't have brought you here."

I cringed, knowing his hand must be throbbing.

I angled my body, so I could see his face that he was hiding from me. I was unaffected by the hostility and rage leaking out of him. I knew it wasn't aimed at me.

My head was swarming with the paparazzi's comments and the information I'd overheard about him. I wanted to be so angry with him for bringing me to this charity without shedding any light on it--but not because of its name, the fact that he was the founder of it, or its personal meaning to him--but I couldn't. None of that mattered right now because I admired his strength for being here and even more so for bringing me with him. It was as if he couldn't _tell_ me his past, but he was letting me in and _showing_ me a glimpse of it.

"Yes, you most certainly should have brought me with you," I countered assertively, lifting my hand to gingerly and lovingly stroke his face, hoping to instill my confidence in him. "I'm right where I'm supposed to be, Damien, and nothing you or those heartless idiots outside say will change the way I feel."

"There is a great deal in my past that could make you have a change of heart, Raelyn," he admitted, not meeting my eyes. "But I'm determined for you to never see that part of me. It's not who I am--not anymore."

Unease settled over me at his loaded statement, but I tucked it away. "So, you have a past. Everyone does." I brought his face to mine, refusing to let him avoid me for another second. "You can hide from it, or you can continue to face it head-on, just as you did before I was in the picture."

He was quiet for a moment, appearing to be collecting his thoughts, before he drew me into his body until our foreheads were touching. "You've changed the way I see things, Raelyn." His breathing was rough and ragged as he tenderly brushed his knuckles down the side of my face. "My world is no longer hollow with only darkness."

"You've changed me, too," I admitted, barely above a whisper, leaning into his touch. "Now, let's give this charity the voice it deserves and get you out there."

"You never cease to amaze me." He smiled tenderly. "For having such a petite frame, your heart truly is bigger than the moon."

"I can assure you, it's not larger than anyone else's, but it knows a worthy cause when it sees one," I said, referring to more than the charity itself.

_He_ was worthy.

Damien had shared a part of himself with me tonight, and I was going to make sure that _I_ would be virtuous enough to stand by his side.

"And that's why I never plan to let you go." He kissed the tip of my nose before reaching for my hand. "Come with me. I'd like to introduce you to some of my friends."

Over the course of the next hour, I held on to Damien's arm as he led me around the room and introduced me to a number of people. A few were personal friends of his, some were coworkers from Heathman Enterprises, and others were guests here on their own. All of them were gathered here to support an exceptional cause, and it was truly remarkable to see.

When Damien approached a gentleman in a gray plaid suit with a purple tie, Damien brought us to a stop and set his hand on the man's elbow to get his attention as he told me, "Raelyn, I'd like you to meet one of my oldest, dearest friends, Oliver Hutchinson."

The man spun to face us with a broad smile in place.

Damien gestured to me. "Oliver, this is my girlfriend, Raelyn Jennings."

"Who are you calling old, son?" Oliver released a belly laugh, holding his champagne glass out in front of him.

I guessed he was in his late fifties.

His thick accent made a presence as he added, "I still prefer to be called a young lad."

"I wasn't calling you old, Oliver. However, I think using the term _young_ is a bit of a stretch, don't you?" Damien retorted with a teasing voice. "I meant, our friendship has been one of long-standing." He gazed at me and smiled fondly. "I've known Oliver since I was fourteen. He was my neighbor, and he helped me make my first business venture."

I nodded as Oliver set his hand on Damien's shoulder and gave him a pat on the back.

"I'll never be an old man." Oliver chuckled. "But I know what you mean, boy. Rarely does one come across a friendship that lasts a lifetime." He nudged Damien out of the way and came to stand at my side as he added, "Now, let me get a good look at this beautiful lady who has captured your eye."

"Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Hutchinson." I smiled kindly, extending my hand.

"Mr. Hutchinson is my father. Please, call me Oliver." He gently shook my hand. "And the pleasure is all mine, dear."

Damien seemed distracted as he glanced around at the roomful of people. Then, he set his hands on either side of my shoulders and affectionately rubbed them. "Would you mind if I stepped away? There is a matter that I need to attend to."

"Not at all." I smiled at him.

"Excuse me for a moment." Damien gave Oliver a stern yet teasing look. "And, you, don't say anything that might scare her away."

Oliver arched a brow. "You mean, don't tell her things like how you TPed my house at the ripe age of fourteen?"

I laughed as Damien rolled his eyes.

"Exactly. Leave those kinds of things out of the conversation until I'm here to defend myself," he mused before leaning in to kiss my temple. "I'll be right back."

My eyes followed Damien as he increased the distance between us. I figured he had something imperative to do with the charity. Each of his strides was made with purpose, as if he owned the room, and in a way, he did. Every person he passed seemed to turn their heads to look or smile at him.

"Would you like a glass of champagne?" Oliver asked, stopping a waitress passing by.

She had a large tray over her shoulder filled with glasses.

"No, thank you," I responded. There was no way I would risk a repeat of my night at FireSide Bar where I had a stomachache and a headache. Water was the thing I'd be drinking tonight.

Oliver swapped out his empty champagne glass for a new one. He thanked the waitress, and then she walked off.

"I'm delighted Damien brought you tonight," he began warmly. "So, how did you come to meet my boy?"

I was intrigued by how fondly he spoke of Damien, almost fatherly like.

"Work. I own an accounting firm, Adams and Jennings Accounting Services, here in Sarasota with my business partner."

"Ah, I see." Oliver's expression lifted in surprise, and then he frowned. "You're Cale Adam's partner?"

"Yes," I answered evenly, hiding my regret, not wanting to divulge anything more on the subject.

"I'm deeply sorry to hear of your troubles with him. Cale was a good man steered wrong by greed."

I felt winded by his comment. It caused me to shift on my heels, feeling distressed.

"I'm terribly sorry, Ms. Jennings. I spoke out of turn. It wasn't my intention to make you feel uncomfortable." His eyes filled with regret as he set his hand on my elbow. "It's just that I've known Damien for a long time, and I think of him as family. I hope you can understand my concern."

"I do." I swallowed thickly.

I didn't want Damien to get hurt by Cale's wrongdoing any more than Oliver did, and I still felt apprehensive about Damien not accepting my repayment to cover my partner's offence. Damien and I would need to discuss that topic again. I wasn't comfortable with Adam & Jennings Accounting Services accepting Damien's cop-out even if it was a generous offer. I had my pride, and I would do the right thing.

"Well, I must say that I'm glad to hear we are on the same page," Oliver drawled sincerely. "But now, I think we should move on to something more appropriate for a Saturday evening. Oh, do I have just the story for you." His eyes went wide. "How would you like to hear of how Damien and I met for the first time?" He grinned. "It's quite the tale, I tell you."

"Oh, yes," I said, equally thrilled and relieved for the change in topic.

Without delay, Oliver dived in and told me of how he had just moved into the neighborhood with his wife and son, Nathan, when Damien was fourteen years old. It turned out that Damien and Nathan were only a few months apart in age, and they'd quickly become friends. They had taken their two four-wheelers out for a long ride where Damien got them buried in the deep patch of mud in a swamp nearly five miles away from their home.

I found myself laughing at Oliver's theatrics as he proceeded to tell me how he'd come to help get Damien and Nathan out with his truck, only to get it stuck, too. I could hear the love in his voice when Oliver told me he'd tried his best to remain mad at the boys for going so close to the wetland, but he'd found himself stifling his own laughter.

"So, did they get into trouble?" I asked once he'd finished.

"Nope." Oliver laughed out loud. "After the tow truck pulled us all out, I took them home and showed them how to go mudding _without_ getting stuck." He sighed, and the atmosphere changed, as if reliving the moment in his mind.

"That sounds like you all had a great time then," I offered sincerely.

"We did. That was the day Damien and I bonded." I saw the love in his eyes, and his expression softened. "I left my house with one son, and I came home with two."

There were no words to match Oliver's powerful ones or the emotion coming out of him, so I nodded my head. Then, my eye caught on the man himself. Damien was heading toward me, but he was not alone.

A woman in a sparkly white gown was right on his heels. The dress was extremely tight, so her steps were short and fast. "Damien, we need to finish our discussion."

"I said, later, Zoey." His voice was harsh with finality as he closed the gap separating us. He set his palm on my lower back and placed an apologetic kiss on my lips before murmuring, "Sorry to keep you waiting."

"It's okay." I glanced at Oliver. "Oliver did a fantastic job at keeping me entertained with a charming story."

"You didn't," Damien threatened in good mirth to Oliver.

He retorted, "Oh, I did."

Before the two men could exchange another word, Zoey wedged her way in between a gathering behind Oliver, and she came to a standstill at his left. Her eyes were glued on me, giving me a speculative once-over.

My spine straightened as I was immediately on guard.

"Damien, you didn't tell me you were bringing eye-candy along tonight," she purred at him before cutting me with an icy-cold stare. "And you are?"

My head snapped back a fraction on my shoulders, and my eyes broadened with undeniable shock as I was unable to keep my composure.

Damien, on the other hand, matched Zoey's expression as Oliver quietly made his escape.

"Raelyn is not eye-candy," Damien snapped venomously. "And if you value your job at Heathman Enterprises, you'll do well to remember to watch your fucking mouth before you speak again, Zoey."

Her face flamed bright red, as I was sure mine had, too, from being the lone victim of her hostility.

"Sorry," Zoey said, looking at Damien, not me.

When she finally did meet my stare, I saw a faint glimpse of that feminine bitchiness before she pasted on a proper smile.

"Hello, Raelyn. Nice to meet you." She extended her hand to me. "I'm Zoey, Damien's assistant."

Instead of accepting her offering, I snuggled closer into Damien and linked my fingers with his. "Hi," I replied simply, greeting her with just as much sass in my tone.

The corner of her mouth curled with irritation before her gaze landed on Damien. "I'll see you on Monday, so we can finish our discussion, Damien."

Damien squeezed my hand as Zoey walked off without waiting for his response.

"Sorry about that. Zoey can be..." He trailed off and released an exasperated breath. "Well, Zoey."

"I see."

"I apologize for her being so rude. I don't know what came over her. She's not normally so...antagonistic."

To me, Zoey had displayed what could only be called pure jealousy, but I kept my thoughts to myself, wanting to give her the benefit of the doubt.

"It's all right." I smiled reassuringly. It wasn't his fault that his assistant had acted impolite.

Just when I thought the pleasantries for the evening had passed, Damien displayed a clear sign of irritation on his face. I followed his line of sight and saw that Cale was closing in on us.

"Just fucking great," Damien muttered under his breath.

I sensed Cale's uneasiness as he approached and came to stand before us.

"Damien. Raelyn." Cale nodded his head at each of us.

Unsure of what else to do, I offered Cale a small smile. It wasn't my usual friendly one but one more filled with disappointment at the loss of a treasured friendship that would probably never be restored.

"What are you doing here, Cale? You were not invited to this charity. I made sure of it myself," Damien accused, intently eyeing him.

"I'm sorry." Cale flinched, and he briefly lowered his gaze to the floor in shame. "I didn't expect to be welcomed with open arms tonight. What I did to you both is unforgivable. But since the event was open to the general public, I still wanted to attend A Voice for Kids and support you, Damien. No matter how much you loathe me, I'll always consider you my friend."

I swallowed thickly and briefly glanced away in hopes of keeping my emotions in check. I was relieved to see no one was watching the three of us.

"A friend?" Damien's laugh was ominous, causing my attention to land on him. "You have a fucked up definition of what it means to be one." He stepped forward. The way he carried himself made him look downright dangerous. "Because a _friend_ is supposed to always have your back, to be honest and loyal. A _friend_ doesn't stab you in the back with a ten-inch blade when you're not looking." He paused, going toe-to-toe with Cale, where he towered over him. "A _friend_ wouldn't steal from you. A _friend_ would have asked for help in a time of need. I would have given it to you in a fucking heartbeat."

"Damien, words can never express how truly sorry I am for my mistakes." Cale gravely shook his head. "I swear on my life that I never meant for it to go this far. I was going to pay it back."

"Save your apology and your excuses for someone who cares." Damien gestured toward the exit, and he threatened, "We will be talking soon but not tonight. Now, get the fuck out of my charity before I remove you myself."

"All right. I'll go." Cale drew his brows together in a defeated frown and then stared at me. "Good-bye, Rae."

"Bye," I whispered. I watched the man I'd once called my friend turn and walk off, wondering if it would be the last time I ever saw him. For only having a few people in my life, it was hard to lose one.

Damien's body radiated with anger beside me, so I stepped into him and wrapped my arms around his center.

"I'm sorry he came," I said, hoping Cale hadn't tarnished such an important night for Damien. "Are you okay?" I asked.

"Yes, I'm fine," he replied.

I didn't believe him. Whether Damien wanted to admit it or not, he was grieving the loss of a friend, too.

"Are you?" he asked. "I don't like the idea of him upsetting you."

"I'm not. I just don't want Cale to ruin this night for you."

"He didn't," he stated confidently as he set his hands on the small of my back and glided them up my sides. "There is nothing that could wreck my mood with you in this stunning black dress." He leaned forward and skimmed his lips across my cheek, causing my breath to hitch. "I can't wait to get you home and take off all of this lace, inch by inch, and replace the material with a trail of my lips."

"Mmm...I'm looking forward to it." I beamed up at him when he drew back.

"Me, too." He kissed me and gave me a devilish grin while linking his fingers with mine. "Until then, let's get back to the charity. I'd like to you to meet a few of my friends."

Over the course of the next two hours, I continued to walk around with Damien as he introduced me to more people. He only left my side once for a heartwarming speech where he talked about A Voice for Kids, their goals for this year, and stories of children they'd helped, and then he finished by thanking everyone for their support.

Afterward, a woman approached him in tears and began to talk about her personal experience with the charity, so I quietly dismissed myself to give them some privacy.

I went off to make a donation to A Voice for Kids, and then I headed for the bar to ask for a water before dipping out the back door onto a small balcony. The fresh air felt marvelous after being cooped up inside for so long.

There wasn't a single cloud in the dark blue sky. It was only filled with bright stars beaming down. I leaned my forearms on the metal railing and continued to gaze up at them.

All of tonight's events rushed to the forefront of my mind. For Damien being so reluctant to tell me his past, I couldn't help but feel that, by inviting me here, he was trying to show me a piece of it. My heart ached at the idea of him being abused and emancipating himself from his family. I wondered how long he'd been mistreated, how old he finally was when he'd left his home, where he had gone, and who had taken care of him.

_Gosh, I have so many questions._

From the corner of my eye, I saw a man near my left side. He leaned over the railing and followed my line of view.

"Beautiful, aren't they?" he asked, causing me to glance at him. "They look so big from here even though we are still so far away from them."

There was something peculiar about his tone that gave me goose bumps. I took in the creases above his eyebrows and around his eyes, observing his probing stare. It was as though he were trying to get a read on me. I instantly went on high alert and put up an invisible wall between us.

"Yes," I answered, not wanting to be bad-mannered.

"You must be Raelyn Jennings. I've heard about you this evening." His smile felt forced. "But then again, any woman on Damien's arm stirs quite a bit of attention."

I didn't like his last comment, but I forced myself to choke down his affront, not letting this stranger see that his insult had bothered me. "And you are?"

"Mr. Stevens." He outstretched his hand to greet me.

For the second time tonight, I found myself not accepting the gesture.

"Well, I must be getting back inside." I increased the space between us and pivoted to face the door in preparation to flee back inside the building and search for Damien.

"Can I buy you a drink?" He cocked his head to the side. It was just enough movement to shift his face directly beneath the light. His light-brown hair reflected under it, as did the freckles on his face.

I immediately made the connection. There was no mistaking that this man was William's father. I was standing alone, on the balcony, with Drake Stevens.

"No, thank you." I retreated another foot, angling myself to the door that seemed miles away.

"Then, I'll do you a favor and cut to the chase, Ms. Jennings." Drake stepped into my path, blocking my exit. "You see, Damien is an extremely troubled individual. His scars go deeper than his skin. So, why would a smart woman, such as yourself, want to get dragged into his stained past?"

My blood boiled at his audacity, outraged with the need to defend Damien. " _Everyone_ has a past. Who made _you_ so fucking perfect to judge others?"

"Hey, I'm just trying to help you out." He defensively lifted his hands in front of himself. "But know that, if Damien interferes with my kid and wife again--"

"What in the fuck are you doing here?"

I froze on the spot at the sound of Damien's voice. This time, Damien sounded downright homicidal.

"Just making a new friend." Drake smiled, keeping his gaze on me.

Damien's glare was virtually burning holes into the man's back. He walked around Drake to get to me. He wrapped one arm around my waist and protectively hauled me behind his body. "Don't you ever talk to her, let alone _breathe_ near her, again."

Damien advanced, and I peeked around his shoulder to see him going toe-to-toe with his stepbrother, towering over him.

"Get the fuck out," Damien said.

Drake aimed a humorless smirk at me. "Even his millions can't fix his vile temper."

"Billions, motherfucker," Damien countered, not missing a beat. "Now, get out."

"That rage of his gets him into trouble." Drake sighed. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

"Last chance to leave, Drake." Damien's voice was low and controlled yet seething with fury. "Or this time, I won't leave you breathing."

"Oh, fine. I'm going. I'm going." The bastard had the balls to laugh as he faced the exit. "But tell my wife and son that I'll be seeing them soon."

"The same applies to them. Stay away," Damien spit.

Drake hesitated and tilted his head over his shoulder where I could see the sharp edges of his silhouette.

His body visibly shook with anger. "You don't get to take them from me, too."

"And you lost the right to make that request the second you laid a wrongful hand on them."

"This isn't over yet, Damien." Drake's hands balled into fists, and a tremor raked through his body. "You won't win this time." He bolted off through the exit.

_Holy hell,_ I thought as I gave Damien a shell-shocked expression. "What was that?" I breathed, struggling to make each word leave my mouth.

"A mindfuck into my past." Damien's chest deflated as he pulled me into his arms and nuzzled his nose into my neck.

I linked my arms around his center, pressed my cheek to his sternum, and tightly held him as silence descended over us. There were too many feelings running rampantly through my mind to process.

Minutes passed before he spoke in a broken voice, "I keep waiting for you to run away from me." He constricted his arms, fiercely hugging me. "And I'm so fucking scared that you will. But I can't say that I'll blame you when you finally do."

"You're wrong," I replied. It wasn't until then when I realized I had been shaking.

"I hope so." Damien released a long breath as he began to sway from left to right, taking me with him.

"What are you doing?" I asked with a soft smile as he continued to move us in a small circle.

"I believe I owe you a dance." He guided me away from his body and twirled me under his arm before bringing me close again.

"But there's no music out here," I teased with a smile as he kissed my cheek.

"I don't need music, Raelyn." He pressed his lips to the top of my head. "I just need you."

So, I let him lead me around the top of the balcony, beneath the stars, where it was just him and me and the evening sky. Even though it felt as if we had the weight of the world on our shoulders and everything was against us, he was all I needed, too. 

#

It was nearly one in the morning by the time Damien and I arrived back at his house. I was lost in my head as we exited the car and crossed through the breezeway to his home. All I could think about was my overwhelming need to have Damien's hands on me.

Once I was inside the door, I dropped my clutch on a small end table, and I shifted my leg to prepare to kick off my heels when Damien ordered, "Keep them on," in that commanding low tone of his.

A raging heat instantly ignited in my core and sizzled outward, so I sauntered up the curvy staircase with an extra sway in my hips in hopes of driving him wild with lust, just as he had done to me.

I reached the center of his bedroom, my heels clinking against the hardwood floor, before I turned to face him.

"You've tortured me all night with that dress, and now, it's time for me to return the favor." His eyes blazed with a panty-melting heat, virtually incinerating the black lacy material from my body with just one look. "Take it off, Raelyn."

I backed up a small step to increase the distance between us, well aware my actions would rile him up. "And if I don't?" I asked, feigning innocence.

"Then, I won't be held accountable for ripping all that black lace to shreds when I remove it from your gorgeous body." His expression reflected the way I felt inside as he removed his jacket and tossed it to the side before tugging his collared white shirt out of his pants.

I defiantly tilted my head to the side. "You can't ruin this new gown. It's recently become my favorite."

"I'm glad you think so. But you're the one playing with fire." He advanced toward me with a determined step and yanked at his tie with more force than necessary to loosen it. "I'm not a patient man, Raelyn. Get it off. Now."

Damien always held the power in the bedroom. I wanted to take control of the reins tonight even if it was just this once.

I could see the desperation and determination in his eyes to have me. It made me think of something I desperately wanted, too.

"Okay," I murmured in agreement, noting the victory in his gaze. "But I want something from you in return first."

A brief uncertainty flickered through his features. "And what's that?"

I tugged my lower lip between my teeth, suddenly unsure of my request. This could go one way or the other. I forced myself to speak before I lost my bravery, "I want you to take your shirt off for me." I could accept him needing time to let me into his painful past, but this, touching him, I longed for.

Visible walls crashed down around his eyes. His body tensed, instantly on high alert. "No." His tone was absolute, final.

He always seemed to be calmer when he had his hands on me, so I stepped forward and softly replied, "Please."

My movements caused Damien to retreat several inches. "No, Raelyn." He rapidly shook his head from side to side.

"You've let me see and touch them before," I gently reminded him of his scars. "Why won't you now?"

"Because I've never let _anyone_ see or feel them before you. _No one_ , Raelyn." He broke our connection and glanced away. "And in my moment of carelessness, you made me remember exactly why I hadn't."

Hundreds of sharp knives repeatedly stabbed at my heart at the memory of our first night on the beach, piercing me deeply. I vowed to myself right then and there that I'd take my last breath trying to resolve this profound misunderstanding between us.

During chemotherapy, I'd lived in my own personal hell. I'd been a sickly one hundred and three pounds. At five foot four, that was skin and bones. Every time I'd ever looked in the mirror, it was as though I had been staring at a lifeless corpse. I'd lost my hair, my natural glow, everything that made me, me.

I was still skinnier than I preferred to be, but damn it, I was beautiful and sexy.

And so was he.

I would stop at nothing until he saw how utterly attractive and sexy and perfect _he_ was to _me_.

"You couldn't be more mistaken if you tried, Damien. I've never judged you, nor would I ever." I made sure my voice rang with the utmost conviction as I reached around to the zipper of my dress and lowered it before letting the black lace fall to my ankles. I stepped out of it, one foot at a time, and kicked the material away from me.

Damien's eyes smoked out. He appeared ready to devour me in a nanosecond.

Wanting to further turn him on, I grasped the clasp of my bra and unlatched it before gradually pulling the straps off of my shoulders. I threw the material aside before making work of my panties next.

I stood before him, naked and unabashed. "I've given you my whole body, Damien, imperfections and all, without reservations, and now, I _need_ you to give me yours."

Leaving my heels in place, I finished closing the small gap between us while keeping my gaze locked on his. "I _ache_ for it. I long to have your skin beneath my palms, to feel your body react to my touch, the way mine does to yours."

I gingerly placed my hands at the top of his shirt, along his neck, where I found the first button.

Damien clenched and unclenched his hands at his sides. It pained me to witness the internal struggle in his eyes.

"I've told you, Raelyn. Take me as I am," he said, repeating the same words he'd said to me once before.

"You know that I do," I solemnly vowed. "But I want to _see_ you. I want to _feel_ you." My fingers trembled with nerves as I unfastened his shirt, one button at a time, while I feared he would deny my one wish.

One day, I hoped he would confide in me, too. That could wait though. For him to accept that I loved him, scars and all, was far more important.

My heart stammered in my chest at my choice of words.

_Love..._

Before I lost my nerve at my revelation, I undid the last button at the bottom of his shirt. The fine material opened and exposed his bare chest to me. Damien inhaled a deep breath. I set my palm over his heart where I felt the beating of it accelerate, pulsing ferociously against my palm.

With me gazing into his eyes with nothing other than love and adoration and acceptance, he stared back at me with his expression precisely reflecting mine. The moment was unbelievably intense, raw, and powerful.

"You say that I'm beautiful. But what you don't realize is that I have flaws of my own, Damien." I skimmed my fingers to his stomach, feeling each solid plane of his abdomen. "They might not be visible on my flesh, but they penetrate the depths of my heart, and they've left a permanent mark on me." _Just as you have_ , I added silently to myself, unwilling to say that part aloud. "So, it seems that we are two kindred souls, you and me."

And we were, in this moment.

Ever so slowly, I clasped either side of his shirt, and then I pushed it off his shoulders and down the length of his long arms. It fell to the floor without so much as a single sound. The only noise to be heard in the bedroom was Damien's strenuous breath coming and going.

Astounded he'd let me go this far, I set my hands on each of his pectoral muscles, being sure to remain in the safe zone, so I wouldn't push him too far, too fast. Then, I reached up on my toes and pressed my mouth to his.

At first, he was stiff and a bit shaky. I sensed he was nervous that I might move my hands upward. I didn't. Instead, I swept my tongue along his lower lip, tenderly and intimately, silently willing him to let me in while also thanking him for trusting me to expose his bare torso to me. He softened against me and welcomed me inside.

Our passionate soft kiss quickly escalated into one of fervent hunger and primal desire when Damien deepened our embrace. One hand came to the back of my neck while the spare went to the base of my spine, so he could pull me flush against him.

My pulse thrummed harder and harder within my veins at his palpable impatience to claim me. My breasts became heavy and full as my nipples pressed and rubbed along the firmness of him. The connection of his chest to mine was something so simple, yet for Damien and me, it was profoundly intimate. And it ended all too soon when his hands gripped my hips to spin me around to face the bed.

Damien shucked his pants and boxers in a flash before bending me slightly forward at the waist. My hands automatically came out in front of me, and I flattened my palms on the mattress to steady myself. His fingers raced from my nape, down my spine, over the curve of my buttocks, and along my upper thighs. The sensational feeling of his hands on me was exquisite, addicting. __

_I_ was addicted _to him_.

Damien hunched over me, gently grasped my hair, and tilted my head to the side, causing his hot breath to wash over me. "I want you like this, Raelyn, so I can fuck you deep." He forced my legs apart. His hard erection throbbed at the small of my back, proving to me just how much he wanted me. "So that you can take me deep inside that sweet, tight pussy of yours, where it's just us, baby." His rough voice was drenched with wicked heat, and his words were full of promise.

A tremor raked through my body and settled in the pit of my stomach.

I barely managed a slight nod in agreement as the tip of his cock pushed through my slick folds, spreading my arousal, until he found my entrance. The heady sensation of him slowly filling me stole the air from my lungs, and I had to remind myself to keep standing.

He pressed our bodies together, cupped my breasts, and teased my nipples by gently pulling on them with his fingers as his lips traced a path up the side of my neck. "This--right here, with you--is where I want to be," he breathed.

"Damien." The sound of his name left my lips on a hushed whisper when he gradually withdrew. My greedy inner walls bore down around him, not wanting to let him go.

He didn't make me wait long though.

"Hold on, Raelyn." His palm clamped on my shoulder, and he slammed forward on an earth-shattering thrust.

"Ah," I moaned. All my blood rushed to my sex. My body was becoming hotter and hotter with every passing second.

"Jesus, that fucking sound you make," Damien grunted, making me hot and needy all over again. He continued to pump in and out of me with unforgiving hard thrusts, penetrating me. He was taking me, taking us, to our special place and fucking me thoroughly and deep, just as he'd said he would.

Somewhere along the way, in the back of my mind, I realized Damien had regained control of our lovemaking. I'd become lost in the midst of my undeniable need for him. My body had betrayed me, and he'd taken full advantage of the situation.

Maybe he wasn't ready for me to touch certain areas of him, and I reminded myself to be respectful of his wishes and accept that it might take him more time.

However, I could reach between us to grasp ahold of the base of his hard cock, so I did. The wetness of our joined arousal made me rock my hips back into him, causing my own body to dangle on the precipice of that incredible peak. I was so close, so incredibly close.

"Raelyn," he gritted out my name in warning, as if fighting for control to prolong our time together.

He roughly gripped my waist and quickened his pace, giving me exactly what my body craved. A relentless strong power was coiled within each of his drives. The rhythmic erotic slap of our connecting bodies echoed throughout the room.

He thickened in my hand, so I squeezed him harder. My hand slipped and slid up and down the base of his heavy girth as he delivered another deliberate thrust. It sent me spiraling over the edge. Silent shock waves ricocheted through me as my inner muscles convulsed around him.

Being sure to take him with me, I gently curled my palm around his balls.

"Fuck," Damien cursed on a groan. He fell over me and pressed his chest to my torso as he jerked and shuddered along with me, coming inside me with long hot spurts, filling me with his warmth.

I collapsed onto the bed under the weight of him. Damien rolled over to the side of me and pulled me into his arms. My nose came to the center of his sternum, and I nuzzled into him, completely sated, as we both fought to catch our breaths.

His hand stroked up and down the length of my back. It caused my eyelids to fall heavy with sleep.

I'd nearly dozed off when his movements came to an abrupt halt, and his alarmed voice cut through the air as he said, "Raelyn, I didn't use a condom."

I kept my eyes shut, knowing this conversation was unavoidable. "I know. It's okay," I replied softly, hoping he'd continue to rub me into a peaceful slumber.

He sucked in a harsh breath as unease rippled out of him. "Raelyn, nothing about forgetting to use protection is okay. Becoming a parent is not something that I want in my future."

I frowned into the darkness at the graveness of his tone. I believed this had nothing to do with him having a child someday in the distant future because I'd personally witnessed how kind, tender, compassionate, and concerned he had been with William. This decision had to be strictly about his past.

I knew he wouldn't share his reasons behind his choice with me, so I felt no need to go into the painful depths of my own. Instead, I offered part of the truth when I said, "I meant, it's okay because I'm on the pill."

"Oh." He exhaled and eventually resumed caressing my bare skin.

As I let myself drift off into sleep, I understood that Damien and I had much to learn about one another, as we both seemed to have so many secrets of our past that we weren't ready to share.

Yet I couldn't help but feel I was where I belonged. I could only pray that time would give us the strength we needed to open up to each other. 

#

My eyes flickered open to the bright rays beaming into Damien's bedroom. Wanting to avoid the harsh light just a while longer, I turned onto my side and came face-to-face with a sleeping Damien. The stunning sight was equivalent to winning the lottery in my books.

Bright light be damned, I planned to take full advantage of this time to peruse every inch of him. His strong cheekbones that led to his square jaw were relaxed. The hard edges of his face were soft.

My eyes drifted to his shoulders where some of his black ink peeked over the top of them. A few raised lines beneath the tattoos were visible. Not wanting to focus on those, I let my eyes trail down his left arm where I took in his sleeve. Most of it was a tribal design, but being this close, I saw scripture printed in a small cursive font.

I AM NOT MY PAST.

The idea of this strong, beautiful man struggling with his former years constricted my heart. It made me want to spread my wings around him and protect him from his sufferings.

My gaze continued to roam down the inside of his forearm. Engraved in bold black ink with dark shading all around it that faded into the rest of his tribal sleeve were Roman numerals.

I-II-I-V

I ran my hand across the numbers on his skin while whispering to myself, "One, two, one, five."

The numbers matched the four-digit code to his garage, and I wondered what meaning they held for him to also be permanently scripted onto his flesh.

My touch made Damien stir. He rolled flat on his back, and within seconds, his breathing evened out again.

I propped myself up onto my elbow, rested my knuckles on my cheek, and made myself eye-level with his rib cage. I watched the rise and fall of his abdomen while admiring every firm muscle that led to the sexy V cut of his hips before the rest of him disappeared beneath the white bedsheet.

Beyond irritated with the silky sheet for obstructing my view, I moved it out of my way to see a _hard_ Damien.

I angled my body at a slant across the mattress, mindful not to touch him just yet. I fully intended to wake him up with my mouth.

I reached forward and let my fingertip lightly brush along the tip of his cock, swirling a perfect circle. It twitched as I softly took him in my hand and began to stroke him.

Hot liquid desire pooled at my sex when I drew him into my mouth and slid down his thick girth, alluring a satisfying moan from Damien.

"Raelyn," he drawled, rough with sleep. His hand came to my hair, and he gently rocked his hips upward, causing me to take him to the back of my throat.

I tightened my lips around him, creating a soft suction with my mouth, as I retreated to the tip. Feeling his arousal thicken only spurred me on. I wanted to drive him to the edge, as he always did with me.

I fell into a steady rhythm of sliding up and down his cock while caressing the underside of him with my tongue.

Damien suddenly hooked his hand around my left thigh and yanked me atop him to make me straddle his stomach with my ass in the air. It left me feeling extremely exposed to his eyes.

"Damien," I yelped in surprise, failing to stifle my bashfulness. I tried to pull forward.

Damien must have picked up on it because he challenged, "After all the ways I've taken you, you want to be modest now?" A mischievous laugh seeped out of him before his tongue swept up the center of my folds. "Too late, gorgeous girl. There will be no shyness between you and me."

He pressed two fingers into me, and I felt his breath coming and going by my sex. It made my own accelerate as his tongue circled my clit.

"I'll take this sweet pussy of mine and pleasure you in any way I want, Raelyn."

As if to prove his point, his tongue replaced his fingers. My mouth fell open on a gasp, and I tightened my hold around his length while drowning in the sensations consuming me. His tongue moved in and out of me, fucking me senseless. I'd never been so aroused.

Overwhelmed with the intensity of his actions, I pulled him into my mouth with more force this time, taking him from root to tip, over and over again.

Dangling on the brink of an imminent release, my stomach muscles drew in tight.

"I want to come inside you." He seized either side of my waist to maneuver me until I was straddling his erection, still facing away from him. "Sink down on me--slowly," he demanded.

I complied, lowering myself onto him ever so leisurely.

Closing my eyes, I reveled in the feel of him stretching me wide. It was so deep this way. He gradually lifted me, and the movement created a heavenly friction along my inner walls as they automatically clenched around him.

My breathing came and went in pants, matching Damien's from behind me.

"That's right, baby. Feel me. All of me." His voice was low and gruff and edged with domination that I loved. "Only me."

On the next pass, I forced my trembling legs to rise with his assistance. Then, together, we found the perfect pace of me rising and falling and him countering my movements with an upward rotation of his hips. Persistent hums of pleasure rolled through me.

My head fell back on my shoulders as I gripped his toned thighs for balance. I was completely lost in him, the way he felt inside me, and the feelings he awakened in me. He was always so attentive to my needs.

Damien wasn't a man to verbally express himself, but when heat and passion melted us together, I could _feel_ his affection for me. It seemed as though he'd reached into my heart and rekindled me to life. I'd never felt so taken, so alive, than I did with him.

We weren't drowning in each other. We were reviving one another.

"Come with me, Raelyn," Damien breathed on the next joining of our bodies.

It was all I needed for light to dance behind my eyes. My climax rushed, breaking through its barrier, and it sent a never-ending wave of vibrations through my core. A warm essence filled me as Damien found his own release.

After a few moments passed, I shifted off his lap and rotated to glance at him. He helped me nestle into his chest. It was only seconds before he gently brought his hands to either side of my face to meet his gaze. The sincerity in his eyes knocked the wind out of me.

"I'm not a man of many words, Raelyn. I never have been, and I probably won't ever be." He linked his fingers with mine and set it over his heart where I felt it beating rapidly under my palm. "But I want you to know that only you can make me feel this way." His spare hand came to my face and caressed my cheek. "Only you."

Those gray eyes burned into mine, and then he kissed me so reverently that I thought my own heart might stop beating.

The Florida sun was baking my skin as a light breeze cooled it. It was truly the best combination ever, and I was determined to keep my bum planted on my towel with my feet in the sand for as long as possible. It felt way too good to leave.

At my side, Damien rolled onto this stomach and rested his cheek on his forearms, facing me. It gave me a clear view of his Roman numerals.

I flipped onto my front and matched his position while scooting closer to him. "What does one, two, one, five mean?" I asked softly.

With his gaze locked on mine, he was motionless for so long that I feared he might not answer me until he released a rush of air and said, "December fifteenth. It was the day I became free."

"Free of what?"

His shoulders lifted slightly on a small shrug. "Free of my past."

"And your tattoos?" slipped out of my mouth before I could think better of it.

"They cover the remnants of it." His expression was reserved and guarded.

My lips parted with another query as I wondered who and what had left such deep marks on his flesh.

"Leave it there, Raelyn. Trust me. It's not something you want to know." Damien rolled over onto his back and stared up at the clear blue sky. If his tone hadn't been a clear sign to end that discussion, his body language surely was.

Respecting his wishes, I let it go. Then, I felt guilty about bringing up the topic of his past when it clearly caused him anguish. I had no right to pry since I hadn't been forthcoming with my own history.

I climbed over to him where I gently laid my body on top of him until my face was directly above his, giving him no choice but to look at me. His eyes were loaded with unsaid words, and countless emotions rippled out of him.

Unable to stand his expression without my heart splintering in two, I languidly kissed him and poured my silent apology into my embrace. Flutters rose in my belly when his mouth moved with mine, accepting my act of contrition.

"I've tried to avoid any emotions since I was old enough to feel them, yet you seem to evoke all of them in me," he said.

I pressed my lips to his one last time. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault." He unleashed a deep breath, as though he'd been holding it in.

Before I had the chance to respond, his cell phone rang from his shorts. I shifted, so he could retrieve it out of his pocket.

His eyes flashed with irritation at the screen as he answered, "Zoey, it's Sunday. What do you want?"

I wasn't sure if my nose scrunched up at his curtness or because it was his less than friendly assistant. I guessed it was the latter of the two.

"I haven't changed my mind, and I told you that last night at the charity. Considering three other similar development companies are currently for sale on the market, two point three million is a generous offer."

He listened for a moment, and then his eyes widened in surprise. "Zoey, that is none of your business. Now, is that all you needed?"

Two seconds passed before he replied, "Good," and ended the call without saying good-bye.

Worry filled my features as I questioned, "Everything okay?"

"Yes."

"Okay." I lay over him again, hoping he'd offer some kind of explanation. Of course, he didn't, so I spoke up, "She doesn't like me."

"Zoey doesn't like most people."

I tugged my lip between my teeth and then released it. "Except you?"

"Except anyone with a deep wallet," he corrected me matter-of-factly.

"Why do you keep her around then?"

"Because she is good at her job." He sighed in exasperation. "And she has no one else. Zoey is a loner, like me."

"Oh." I didn't have much else to say.

He set his hands on my hips and pulled me closer, forcing me to gaze into those deep grays. "Please don't worry about her. She's only an employee now."

That last word of his sparked a little jealousy in me, and I didn't like the feeling one bit. I tilted my head to the side. "Now?"

His throaty laughter vibrated from his body to mine, and it sent a thrill of excitement through me to hear it.

"I just hung myself, huh?"

"Do you think now is the time to be answering a question with another question, or should you be saving your ass with a spectacular explanation?" I probed, sporting my best game face.

"I don't know." He grinned. I mean, he really grinned. It left me breathless. "I kind of like this look on your face. Beneath that sass, I can see your jealousy. And the combination of the two make you look unbelievably sexy." He rocked his pelvis up into me, and I felt pure male hardness rubbing along my sex. "Really. Fucking. Sexy."

Knowing I could never maintain my bluff with him touching me, I crawled backward off his ridiculously hot body.

He sat up and came after me. "And where do you think you're going?"

"I want an answer." I increased the space between us, nearing the shore. "Was she a friend or a lover?"

Damien arched a devious brow and stalked toward me. The expansion of his chest moved with his graceful actions, and the sight mesmerized me. I could only hope that all of that muscle would be slow if I needed to make a quick escape.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" he taunted.

I was getting nowhere fast, so I went for diversion. "Nah, I don't want to disclose all my previous lovers either, so maybe it's best we don't go there." I shrugged casually. There had only been one, and that was Nick, but I'd keep that to myself.

That made his steps falter, and he cocked his head to the side. "All?"

"Friend or lover?" I asked, slowly speaking each word.

"Oh, gorgeous girl, if you think you're coming out of this quarrel on top or even at a stalemate, I can assure you that I never back down."

I sidestepped to the left, and he followed with a look of thrill in his eyes.

"You should know by now that I'm relentless until I get what I want, and I love a good chase." His voice was full of his usual confidence.

I normally admired it, but today, my inner sass refused to surrender.

"I hate to break it to you, Damien, but I believe you've met your match in the stubbornness department."

To the left was the ocean, and to the right was his house, the one that seemed so far away at the moment. I was going to have to haul ass to make it.

Damien caught my line of sight, and when he gazed back at me, he bedazzled me with those glowing grays of his. "Give it your best shot."

I retreated one more step and faked a move to the left before darting to my right where I took off with long strides. It was harder to run in the sand than I'd imagined it to be.

I squealed when Damien's arm banded around my center and flung me into the air over his shoulder.

I gripped his waist for balance and thrashed in his hold as he turned around. "Damien, put me down!"

"Not a chance, baby," he said, heading straight toward the wooden dock leading out into the water.

"You are not throwing me in the water!" I shouted, laughing hysterically. "That's not fair when you're the one who won't answer my question!"

" _You_ flipped me off my inner tube, going at least forty miles an hour, _and_ you almost flipped my boat." He snorted as his feet padded across the wooden surface. "Tell me exactly how you think it's unfair to toss you into the sea?"

"We are back to that mishap? You're so dramatic." I prodded with hilarity and sarcasm evident in my tone, earning myself a smack on my ass.

"There is nothing dramatic about being concerned about you nearly hurting yourself on my speedboat."

"Oh, be quiet. I was fine."

" _Was_ being the operative word there." He neared the end of the dock. "Now, tell me how many lovers you've had, and maybe I'll reconsider being a gentleman."

He wasn't going to get off that easily. "How many have you had?"

Damien brought his feet to the edge of the structure and jostled me in his hold, getting a better grip on me. "Last chance, Raelyn."

"Fine!" I yelled, carefully flaying in an effort to free myself. "Only one. We met in college."

"I appreciate your honesty," he said with sincerity. "But I still think you need a reminder of who holds the power in our relationship."

"You mean, me?" I giggled. After all, I had an outstanding view of his ass from up here.

"Oh, gorgeous girl, you are quite mistaken," he drawled in that bone-melting, domineering tone of his. "But don't worry. I fully intend to remind you." He effortlessly lifted me in the air over his head as he warned me, "I'd ask you if you can swim, but I already know the answer."

"Damien!" I screamed, feeling weightless, as my body went sailing through the air.

I landed in the ocean with a loud splash before sinking far beneath the surface. By the time I reemerged, I was sputtering up water with a wet Damien already swimming to my rescue. I saw his futile attempt to bite back his mirth.

My glare met his shimmering stare. "You, sir, are in a heaping shitload of trouble," I threatened, stifling my own amusement, especially at my bizarre choice of words.

Damien threw his head back and laughed hard before returning his attention to me. "Can I redeem myself if I tell you that Zoey and I were just friends?"

"No." It was definitely too late to redeem himself.

He pulled me into his arms and kept us afloat. I clung to him, mindful of my hand placement on his shirt-covered body.

His expression went serious. "Then, how about if I admit that there have been women in my past, but _you_ are my one and only lover?"

I lost my breath at the weight of his confession, as it seemed to trigger inexplicable feelings in my soul.

I slid my hands to his nape and up to his hair where I pulled his mouth down to me, overcome with the need and desire to feel his lips on me.

Damien wasn't a man of many words, yet the few he had spoken touched me in a way that no one had ever done before.

This man was all I could see.

#

I woke up in my apartment on Monday morning with my sheets clung to my damp skin. The back of my head felt heavy with pressure. There was no other way to describe how it felt than to compare it to someone sticking a five-pound brick inside of my skull.

Groaning, I flipped onto my stomach, hoping the change in my body position would offer me some sort of respite.

My pulse accelerated like I was running full speed toward a finish line, causing me to feel...twitchy. And a light sheen of sweat broke out across my forehead and moistened my pillow under me.

Minutes ticked by, and I knew that relief without some sort of intervention would be hopeless.

Unable to stand the torture any longer, I rose from my bed and went into the bathroom to open the medicine cabinet. Ibuprofen was the first thing I spotted, so I opened it and popped two pills into my mouth before turning on the faucet to chase them down with water.

Finished, I shut off the valve and stood up straight. My head slopped forward, and I closed my eyes. I'd just slept for at least ten hours, yet I felt like it hadn't made the slightest difference. I sighed, thankful I'd talked Damien into bringing me home last night.

Finally, I gazed up at the person reflecting back at me in the mirror. It was the same woman I'd tried my best to conceal with makeup on Saturday night for the charity. She was pale. The only color on her face appeared from the dusky purple circles under her eyes. Somehow, their darkness stole my attention and managed to pull at me, as if dragging me into a dark storm, a ferocious one that I knew would grip ahold of me, sink its nails into me, and try to suck every last breath out of my lungs.

I'd barely survived the fight against my illness the first time, and I was terrified out of my mind at the mere thought of doing it again. I wasn't strong enough to endure such torture twice.

Petrified beyond reason, I snatched the green soap dispenser on the counter next to the sink and hurled it at the mirror. "No!" I screamed defiantly over the loud noise of the glass shattering into pieces.

Tiny shards fell against the counter, covering the surface. I barely felt an unforgiving sharp stab at my forearm. It was nothing compared to the aching fear in my heart.

Uncontrollable sobs ran through me. My exhausted limbs protested holding me up, so I crumbled to the floor and cried. Never had I wanted Damien more than I did in this moment of weakness. I wished I were resilient enough to call him, so he could burst through the bathroom door, swoop me off my feet, and chastise me for hastily jumping to conclusions about my state of health. I longed for him to soothe and comfort my worries.

Yet, in order for him to come to my rescue, I'd have to tell him my greatest fear and take the risk that he might run when I do.

The vulnerability of being alone kept me from doing so.

So, instead, I cried and let my emotions roll out of me in dense waves as I was consumed with loneliness.

I was unsure of how long I'd sat in the bathroom before I found my inner strength to pick myself up off the floor and stand to my feet.

Refusing to let my apprehensive mind and body play tricks on me anymore, I inhaled a refreshing deep breath in an effort to bring color back to my cheeks even if I couldn't see it.

I was cured. I was in remission. My oncologist, Dr. Enright, had said so himself. And I wanted to live, more than ever before. I would not let these foolish worries drag me down any longer. It was probably just some bug or virus messing with my head.

"You're fine, Raelyn," I whispered reassuringly to myself, squaring my shoulders and standing tall.

I quickly showered and readied myself for the long workday ahead of me. It would be the perfect distraction.

When I was finally ready to go, I grabbed my keys and purse before heading out to my car. I was bummed that Iris wasn't awake before I'd left, but I would try to catch up with her tonight. I'd yet to grill her for details on this new Joshua guy in her life.

On the drive to the office, I cranked up the radio and listened to some tunes. It was amazing how music could be so uplifting on the spirits. I parked my car and grabbed my belongings before heading into the front of Adam & Jennings where I saw Kate at her desk.

Tim walked out of the break room and approached me with a chipper morning smile. Other than work-related discussions, we hadn't spoken much since the night at FireSide Bar. I was relieved that things hadn't been awkward with us.

"Hey, Tim." I gave it my best to reciprocate his expression. "Can you bring me the Luxemburg files? I'd like to get started on them right away this morning."

"Uh, sure." Tim shifted his stance and shoved his hands into the front pockets of his cream-colored slacks before rocking on the balls of his feet. He seemed off today.

Nerves washed over me at his uneasy state. "Everything okay?" I asked, knowing it wasn't. I hoped there wasn't an emergency with any clients because my ten-hour day was already going to be jam-packed.

Tim looked around the office, as did I. Kate was talking on the phone and jotting down notes from her seat.

When Tim realized that she wasn't paying any attention to us, he glanced back at me and queried, "Did you know that Cale was going to be here today?"

"No." My head snapped back on my shoulders. I briefly glanced to my left to see Cale's office door was shut, and the light was off. "Where is he?"

"He's in the conference room."

"Okay..." I drawled, perplexed. "Did he say why he was here? Does he want to talk to me?"

"He didn't say." Tim scrunched up his face, appearing distressed, as he confessed, "But I did see him walk in there with Mr. Heathman."

"Oh." My chest deflated a mere second before my body snapped into gear. "Excuse me, please."

I barreled straight for the conference room. If Damien and Cale were talking about Adam & Jennings, I had a right to be there, too, so I would know what was going on.

My strides increased, as did my irritation that they'd left me out. I was especially upset with Damien for his lack of communication skills on the matter. We'd spent a good portion of the weekend together, and he hadn't mentioned a single word about Cale.

Without delay, I reached the door and whipped it open where I immediately saw Cale sitting down in a chair with paperwork on the desk. Damien was standing next to him, looking as powerful, confident, and handsome as ever.

I shook off the thought and demanded, "What's going on in here?"

Damien's brows rose slightly before he picked up the papers in front of Cale and sauntered toward me. As he neared, his eyes ran up and down the length of me where they immediately lingered on my face. Worry etched itself across every plane of his own as he came to a stop. "Are you okay? You look--"

I cut him off, not appreciating his diversion tactic, "Why are you meeting with Cale without me?"

Damien seemed as though he was about to argue about my looks, but he sighed. "Cale has just signed over his portion of Adam and Jennings Accounting Services to you." He handed me the papers. "You now own all the shares in the company."

There was no point in trying to mask my shock as I stumbled backward. "What?" I gasped, completely thrown.

I could understand Damien forcing Cale out of Adam & Jennings, but it shouldn't be to benefit me. Damien deserved to recuperate his stolen funds.

"Damien, you should have spoken to me about this first."

"It wasn't your decision to make."

"Yes, it was." I narrowed my eyes at him. "But if this is how you plan to resolve your matter with Cale, then you'll accept my repayment." It was the only way to rightfully attain full ownership of Adam & Jennings.

Damien's jaw set before he tilted his head at me. "We'll talk about this later, Raelyn."

"No, we'll talk about it now," I countered.

Cale set down his pen and pushed back his chair, so he could rise to his feet. Regret passed through his features when he came to stand before me. "Raelyn, I'm so sorry for what I did to you. You were the last person I ever wanted to hurt. And at the bar..." His face fell with shame. "I shouldn't have said what I did. It was hideously low of me."

"It's okay," I said, referring to the last part of his speech, so he wouldn't elaborate on the subject. I hoped Damien wouldn't catch wind of Cale referencing my illness. I didn't want Damien to ask questions when I had no answers for him--especially with my recent...episodes.

_No, it is just a virus or a bug._ I tried to calm my inner qualms. There was no time for them right now.

I felt Damien's inquisitive eyes on me, but I ignored him and kept my full attention on my former business partner.

Cale exhaled a long sigh and shoved his hands into the front pockets of his slacks. "Adam and Jennings Accounting Services is now yours. It was the right decision to make, so please don't fight Damien or me on this." He frowned. "It was a small price to pay for my wrongdoings, and I'll always be thankful to Damien for letting me off the hook so easily." A small smile tugged at his mouth. "Even if I know it was only because he happened to fall in love with you."

My heart lodged in my throat, choking me at Cale's choice of words to define Damien's feelings for me, when a knock suddenly sounded at the door. __

_I definitely am not going to look at Damien now!_

I turned my attention to the door while thanking my lucky stars for saving me from facing the two men standing behind me. "Yes?" I squeaked.

Kate peeked her head inside and smiled. "You have an unexpected visitor. He said it's important."

Normally, I'd be upset with Kate for interrupting me in the conference room but not today. "Bring him to my office. I'll be right there," I said, stifling the relief in my voice at a clear path to escape. I needed to regroup, and focusing on work would give me that.

Without glancing backward, I flew out of the room and barreled for the safety of my office.

"Raelyn, we need to talk." Damien was hot on my heels.

"Not now, Damien." I increased my strides. "I have a client who needs to see me."

I flew into my office where I grasped the door and set it in motion to close behind me. There was no way I was going to gaze into the depths of those penetrating gray eyes right now. I needed some time to think and calm my raging emotions without Damien near me.

He barged into the confined space before I could even reach my desk. "That's the second time Cale has referenced that night at the bar, and--"

A throat cleared at the door, and I did a complete one hundred and eighty degree turn to see Kate giving me an incredulous look, no doubt from Damien's loud voice with a client nearby.

"Uh, your visitor." She gestured to her right.

My gaze followed the line of her path.

"No," I cried on a broken whisper. I staggered in shock, feeling every ounce of air vacating my lungs.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Damien rotate to see what had me in such a state.

"Raelyn, it's so great to see you again." Nick beamed, exposing an intimate smile, one he'd reserved for when he told me he loved me or missed me.

"Who in the fuck are you?" Damien roared with a truly frightening tone, making me jump.

I rushed to the door with my hands out in front of me in warning, eyes pleading with Kate. "Kate, please see Nick out."

"Just hear me out, Raelyn." Nick pouted and stepped forward. "Please, we need to talk."

"No. Now is a _really_ bad time." I reached for the door myself, prepared to slam it in his face, and I corrected, "Wait. No, we won't ever speak to one another again. Good-bye, Nick."

Nick slapped his palm against the wooden door, halting my efforts. "Don't run from me again. I'm so sorry for leaving you when you needed me the most."

"Stop talking, please," I cried, realizing Damien's chest was already pressing up against me.

Nick didn't relent. In fact, he continued to ramble, "I don't know what I was thinking. I was an idiot for leaving you when you were so ill. I-I got scared, Raelyn. I thought you were going to die. Y-you weren't supposed to survive."

_That_ made me feel all rosy inside. _Not!_

Damien gently captured my arm and spun me to face him. Too many emotions flickered across his face to place. "What in the fuck is he talking about, Raelyn?"

No words would come to me, so I could explain what Damien had just heard from Nick. My brain was shutting down. All rational thinking was gone. My past and my present were colliding worse than I ever could have imagined, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I was falling apart at the seams.

"Excuse me. Who are you?" Nick queried with his infamous cockiness.

Damien cut him a hard glare. "Who am I?" He laughed menacingly. "Who in the _fuck_ are you?"

"I'm her fiancé," Nick stated way too bravely. "Well, if she will still have--"

"Get out!" I screamed, deranged, at the top of my lungs.

In the same instant, Damien was on the move, charging straight for Nick, with a murderous look on his face.

"No!" I tried to shout, but my lungs were empty.

Damien threw his shoulder into Nick's chest, taking him flat to the floor.

"Damien, stop!" I cried.

I'd never forget the way Nick had crushed me when he left me at my worst nearly ten months ago, but I wouldn't wish Damien's lethal rage upon anyone.

Nick tried to sit up and swing at Damien, but he was too slow. Damien connected his fist with the side of Nick's face, once and then twice. Each sounded with a smacking thud that resonated through the office.

Nick slammed his elbow into the side of Damien's face, but it didn't slow Damien down, not even for a split second. In fact, it seemed to have the reverse effect and fueled his wrath. Blood droplets poured out of Nick's nose as Damien delivered each punch with fluidity, strength, and precision.

I launched myself forward and clawed at Damien's shirt to pull him backward as Cale came running for us.

"Help," I sobbed at him.

"Shit, Damien!" Cale threw himself atop Damien, wrapped his arm around his neck, and yanked hard. "Let go, man!"

It wasn't working, Damien was too powerful, so I darted to Nick's head to face Damien.

I fell to the floor and threw my hands in front of me. "Stop, Damien!" I cried. I knew it was reckless to throw myself into the mix, but I needed him to see me, to look into my eyes, and then maybe he'd see reason.

Then, my world spun on its axis, and Damien disappeared before my eyes. The whole room went pitch-black as a familiar sharp pain sliced through my temples, striking with such intensity that I buckled over at the waist, feeling blind and helpless.

"Damien." I gasped for air, crying out at the unwelcome agony that continued to rip me to pieces, but I was completely at its mercy.

"My God, Raelyn."

I couldn't see Damien, but I could _feel_ him gently pulling at my limp body to cradle me in his arms.

"I got you, baby. I got you." He slowly rocked me back and forth in his arms and pressed a kiss to my hair. "Someone call nine-one-one," he ordered frantically.

"No. It will pass," I slurred into his shirt on a broken sob.

"She's right, Damien." Cale's quiet voice boomed around me.

I felt a washcloth being placed along my forehead. I closed my eyes and prayed the coolness would ease the throbbing ache. It felt so good against my flaming skin.

Cale added, "Just give her a minute. The headache will pass quickly. They always do."

"What in the fuck does that mean?" Damien's tone was full of panic. "What's wrong with her, Cale?"

"I-I..." Cale stammered and then trailed off, only to speak again, "It's--"

"No," I cried.

Damien couldn't find out like this, and I needed quietness. The chattering noises in my ears were too much to bear.

After several minutes passed, I released a shaky lungful of air. The pressure in my head was beginning to subside. I blinked a few times to clear the haze out of my vision, and I came face-to-face with Damien. The concern and utter terror etched on his face made my heart falter an unsteady beat. Hidden beneath those heartfelt emotions, I could sense his unmistakable hurt.

"I'm taking you to the hospital, Raelyn," he stated.

"I don't need one," I replied barely above a murmur. I already had a doctor, so I wasn't going to the emergency room to be poked and prodded.

It was time to acknowledge that I needed to place a call to Dr. Enright. The Mexican food, the night at FireSide Bar, this morning, all the nausea or headaches--none of it could be brushed off as a fluke incident. And I couldn't ignore the conclusion of where my symptoms were stemming from. Something was wrong with me, and I needed to accept the truth staring me in the face.

Damien intently eyed me. "Then, you are coming home with me, so we can talk while I keep a close eye on you without any interruptions. And when we're finished, _I'll_ be the one to decide if you need to go to the ER or not." A muscle in his jaw constricted. "Please don't waste your energy arguing with me because there is no fucking way that I'm letting you out of my sight."

A small part of me wanted to protest to delay the inevitable conversation I needed to have with him, yet the other part knew my time had run out. He needed and deserved my honesty.

"All right," I agreed with a simple nod, biting back tears.

Then, I was in his arms where I prayed I could remain forever.

Damien and I were in his living room. I was standing by the couch, too nervous to sit. Damien stood at the window and gazed out at the ocean. It reminded me of the first day I'd met him in the office conference room--the way he'd rested his arm on the window frame while looking outside, the way his eyes had appeared troubled when he finally turned to face me, as if his mind were completely somewhere else.

I let out a grave sigh, realizing one always thought about the beginning at the end.

Damien broke the tense silence first. "Why do people keep saying you're sick, Raelyn?" He didn't pause for me to answer. "First, Cale said it in the bar that night you confronted him about stealing from me, and then your ex-fiancé--who I hadn't even known existed until today--mentioned it." He dragged his hand through his hair.

A sense of dread overcame me when he still refused to look at me.

"Because I am." I closed my eyes and fought for hope. Then, I remembered I had no concrete answers yet, so I corrected my error, "I mean, I was."

"You are, or you aren't?" His voice was full of hurt, as though I'd kept a dear secret from him and deceived him.

And to me, I had.

"Pick one, Raelyn. And I want the truth."

"I've been in remission for almost seven months." I forced each word out.

With an unhurried pace, he pivoted to stare at me. The agony in his eyes was more than my heart could bear.

"And now?" he choked out. His voice was as broken as I felt inside at the idea of losing him.

The sight of Damien with tears in his eyes had my heart free-falling into the pit of my stomach. I was _terrified_ of my future--or the possibility of not having one at all.

"Now, I think it's back," I cried.

He let my admission dangle in the air between us before he quietly spoke, "I'm in love with you, Raelyn." He gave me a small smile before his expression filled with uncertainty. "Yet you can't even share your secrets with me. So, how can there be love without trust?"

"The same reason I can love you and all your secrets." I stepped toward him on shaky legs, unwilling to accept the doubt in his voice and the unsaid distance he was putting between us. "You haven't exactly been forthcoming with your past either."

"That's just it, Raelyn. Mine are in my past--where they belong and where they'll stay. My past has no place in my future."

My body sagged in defeat at his response, wanting to give up. I wasn't sure how I'd expected our discussion to go, but it wasn't like this.

"Yeah, well, I wish mine could be in the past, too. But I don't get that choice, do I?" I spit, angered by the gravity of my statement, as my walls came crashing down around me.

I'd had no business falling in love. It wasn't fair to Damien or myself to give our hearts to one another when I had no idea what lay ahead of me.

Now, I was the one putting space between us as I spun around on my feet and walked away, too overcome with my own grief and reservations.

"Where are you going?" he demanded at my back. "You don't get to walk away from me. Not now, Raelyn."

I drew my own conclusions as to why we'd kept so many things from one another. I began to shake as I gazed at him over my shoulder. "You're right, Damien." Tears streamed down my face. "I don't need you to trust me with your past, and you don't belong in my future. Our secrets seem to be our own worst nemeses. I didn't share mine with you." Tears gushed down my face, and I struggled to make eye contact with him. "Because I didn't want to see that look you are giving me right now. I don't want your pity any more than you want mine."

I didn't wait for his response as I ran up the curvy staircase and turned to the right toward an open door. It was a loft with a navy-blue love seat. I entered the room and threw myself onto the cushions, well aware that I'd left a desolate and confused Damien standing in the living room.

Alone.

I felt my body being lifted into strong arms as I came to.

"I'm still mad at you, you know." I sniffled angrily into his chest as emotions attacked me from all sides. Deep down, I knew I wasn't mad at him. I was furious with my body.

"You can be upset with me all you like, gorgeous girl." He kissed my temple as he sauntered down the hallway to his room. "But the woman who owns my heart and every other fucking piece of me _will_ sleep in my bed"--he gently laid me down on it and kissed my lips--"and in my arms where I can feel her heart beating against my own, so I can remember that, no matter what life brings our way, she's still mine."

His words brought on an onslaught of new emotions.

"I'm so sorry." I sobbed uncontrollably. "I should have told you sooner, but I couldn't."

"As am I, Raelyn." He brushed his thumb across my right brow while lovingly gazing at me. "There are many things about myself that I haven't shared with you either. I promise that, someday soon, when I'm ready, I will."

"I'm scared," I admitted, overwhelmed by the outcome of our future.

"I am, too," he agreed softly, reaching behind him to pull his shirt over his head before tossing it onto the floor. "I promise you, not even my scars that tarnish my flesh and haunt the deepest parts of my heart and soul will keep me from loving you."

My vision went fuzzy with my tears. Then, I cried harder at the idea of not being able to see the man who I loved with my heart, body, and soul even though he was right in front of me. It gave me a small inkling of what it would feel like to lose him completely.

I wouldn't survive without him.

A deeply excruciating agony seized every cell in my body, and it wrapped around my heart, stabbing at it, piercing me. I'd never experienced such anguish in my life.

"Stay with me, Raelyn," he demanded softly, pulling me out of my reverie.

Just like that, he'd brought me back.

With our faces inches apart, he continued, "I'll be damned before I let any kind of illness take you from me. We _are_ going to beat our demons together. You and me, together--that's the only way it will ever be." He took my hands in his and guided them up over his shoulders. "Touch me, Raelyn. Take my strength, and use it as your own."

He was finally giving me what I'd longed for, yet I couldn't bring myself to move my hands in fear of causing him pain.

"What?" I slowly shook my head. "I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't." He placed a tender kiss on my lips. "The only thing that has the power to hurt me, Raelyn, is the thought of not having you."

The severity of his statement penetrated my soul, and I knew he deserved my honesty before I could hold him to his declaration.

"Damien, I need you to understand something."

His gaze searched mine. "Okay."

I opened my mouth to speak, yet I couldn't seem to make any words come out. My lower lip began to tremble, as did the rest of me. Fear was choking me.

"Raelyn..." Damien drawled, delicately caressing my face. "Nothing you tell me will change how I feel about you."

A sob escaped as I knew my secret could change everything. I swallowed and asked him my deepest, darkest fear, "Will you still want to be with me even if you don't get the chance to love me for very long?"

Those gray eyes of his briefly widened before they were flooded with an array of emotions, some reflecting my own.

I had to continue before I lost my voice, "The illness that made Nick pack his bags and break off our engagement was...well, I'd been diagnosed with a brain tumor. It was supposed to be incurable."

His eyes filled with water. My hands automatically came to his face to offer him comfort.

"The odds had been stacked against me, yet I somehow beat them...until now. I need you to understand that you might not get forever with me."

When a droplet slipped down his cheek and landed on my chest, he lowered his head and tore his gaze from mine. I skimmed my hands up his soft stubble to find his hair, giving him some time to pull his thoughts together.

"You might be wrong," he said. "Your symptoms might be something different."

"Yes, they might."

"This changes nothing between us, Raelyn." He looked me square in the eyes. "Not a damn thing."

Right then and there, I wanted to tell him that I loved him, reverently and forever, however long that might be. But I held myself back. Even though I'd inadvertently admitted my feelings to him earlier while in the living room, it felt unfair to pledge my love to him until I knew where I stood with my health.

"You don't have to say anything else." He settled his body into me. "I'll be strong enough for both of us. I'll _love_ you enough for both of us."

Once again, he reached for my hands and set them on his shoulders. "Now, touch me, and kiss me, gorgeous girl of mine." He smiled softly and nipped at my lips. "Because I'm going to make love to you."

My hands lightly skimmed over the raised marks on his skin. I wanted to weep at how painful it must have been for him to endure such an unspeakable thing. But I didn't. I wouldn't let his past win, just like he wasn't going to let my illness win.

He was going to fight for me, and me for him.

_We_ were going to fight together, as one.

As we made love into the night--gently, passionately, ardently--I didn't know what tomorrow would bring or where we would go from here. All I knew was, without a shadow of a doubt, I was where I belonged, wrapped in Damien's arms. 
Please join me for the continuation of

Raelyn & Damien's story.

RELEASING NOVEMBER 19, 2015

ADD IT TO YOUR GOODREADS HERE

# TATTOOED SCARS

"Don't you see, Damien?" I cried. "All I want is to enjoy every second that I have left with you." I swallowed thickly and dug deep within myself for the courage to finish as tears streamed down my face. "You are supposed to be _my_ perfect ending, but I'm just your beginning."

Damien's gray eyes darkened beyond anything I'd ever seen before while filling with unmistakable heartache. "Don't you ever fucking say that to me again, Raelyn."

He stepped toward me and pulled me into his arms where he gently used his hand to force me to look up at him. "There is no ending for us."

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From the bottom of my heart, thank you for taking the time to read my book.

As with each of my stories, the couples weave their way into my heart and become a part of me. I hope you enjoyed Damien and Raelyn's story and continue the rest of their journey with me.

For the most up-to-date information on releases, please sign up for my email list at www.aliciaraeauthor.com.

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Twitter @AliciaRaeAuthor

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I have so many wonderful people to thank. Each person has truly been a blessing throughout this new chapter in my life.

First and foremost, I cannot express enough thanks to my remarkably talented editor, Jovana Shirley, at Unforeseen Editing. She was the first person I met when I started this journey of writing, and I'm forever grateful for her friendship, advice, and the endless late nights she shares with me while perfecting every single word of each of my novels. She takes my original manuscripts and makes them shine. Thank you for your continued dedication and hard work! Much love, lady!

To my family, who has always supported me with unconditional love, even during the times when I practically live in my writing cave--Thank you, and I love you all dearly. *Hugs & Kisses*

To Sarah Hansen at Okay Creations--Thank you for taking all the photographs and creating a work of art with all my covers. I am in awe of your extraordinary talent, and I absolutely love each and every cover.

To my dear husband, Travis--A special thanks for taking the time to read my manuscript at a moment's notice, for giving me sincere words of affirmation when I needed them the most, and for always being my rock. You are my high school sweetheart who has made all my dreams come true. Love you, always. ♥

To Tammie Lee--Thank you for all your heartfelt thoughts and suggestions for my manuscripts, the way you always go above and beyond for me and my books, our late-night messaging filled with laughter, and most of all, for being such a dear friend. Many, many hugs.

To my dear friend across the pond, Felicity--Words can never express my thanks to you, not only for reading my novels and helping me perfect them, but also for being such an incredible friend to me. Our friendship has only blossomed with time. I'll always cherish it. Your beautiful card sits proudly on my bookshelf, and I smile every time I see it.

To Elle--I just adore you, lady. You and I are kindred souls who share a love for the country to anything with wheels and a motor. I can picture us on our ATVs, doing burnouts and racing through open fields--all the while, not giving a damn that we have mud on our jeans or caked in our hair. Someday, we are going to meet, and I truly can't wait to squeeze you.

To Athena--You are truly an amazing woman. It always brings a smile to my face when I see that I have a message from you. I adore our friendship and our shared love for writing, and I love your insight on my stories. You have a wonderful talent.

To my beta readers--Thank you for your countless hours of reading my novels and for giving me the push I need with your kind and encouraging words. You all help me perfect my work and make it the best it can be, and I'm extremely thankful to each of you.

To the many bloggers who put their hearts and precious time into reading and promoting my book--Many, many thanks to you all! Truly, I'm deeply humbled and grateful for all that you do for us authors and, even more importantly, for the many friendships I've made along the way.

To all the ladies at InkSlinger PR--Thank you for your guidance and hard work in organizing my blog tours, cover reveals, giveaways, and so much more. Without you, I never would have known what steps to take.

To all fellow authors who have become friends--Thank you for writing books where I can lose myself for hours and for inspiring me to write love stories of my own. You have all welcomed me with open arms, and I'm extremely thankful.

And especially to my readers--I can never thank you enough for reading my book. All your support means the world to me. ♥

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Image Credit: Golden Czermak with FuriousFotog

Alicia Rae is a contemporary romance author who lives in Dekalb, Illinois, with her husband and three beautiful boys. Alicia has a passion for reading all types of romance, writing to bring a story to life, and photography.
