Chapter 75
Aria’s POV – That Evening
He smirked behind his coffee mug. “I only speak the truth p>
“Uh huh.” I tickled Noah until he squealed. “And what else does Daddy say p>
“That you’re beautiful when you smile.” Noah giggled, wriggling away. “And that he’s lucky you don’t hate him anymore p>
“Noah” Damien’s mug stopped halfway to his mouth.
“What?” Noah looked between us innocently. “You said that this morning, to Mrs Dora”
I bit back a smile. “Did he now p>
“Yes!” Noah bounced on my lap. “He said, ’Mrs. Dora, I’m the luckiest man alive because Aria doesn’t completely hate me anymore p>
Damien set down his mug with deliberate care. The ceramic clicked against the granite counter. “That was a private conversation, buddy p>
“But I was right there! You were making coffee and I was eating cookies”
“Which you weren’t supposed to have before breakfast,” I interjected.
“Mrs. Dora said one cookie wouldn’t hurt!” Noah protested.
“Mrs. Dora is fired,” Damien said dryly.
“Daddy!” Noah gasped. “You can’t fire Mrs. Dora! She makes the best cookies p>
“Then she needs to stop spoiling my son and telling him my secrets p>
“I like your secrets.” I couldn’t help myself. “They’re entertaining p>
Damien’s eyes met mine, heated and intense. “I have more secrets. Want to hear them p>
“Not in front of Noah p>
“Especially not in front of Noah,” he agreed, his voice dropping lower.
The air between us shifted, charged with something that had nothing to do with the cartoon playing on TV. The room felt smaller suddenly. Warmer. I could smell his cologne—something woody and expensive.
Noah slid off my lap. “Mum, I am going to play with my trucks p>
He scampered off to his room, leaving Damien and me alone in the too-large living room. The afternoon light slanted through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Dust motes danced in the golden beams. Outside, I could hear the distant hum of traffic, the faint chirp of birds in the manicured garden.
I should move. Should maintain distance, should not notice the way his t-shirt stretched across his chest or how his jeans hung low on his hips.
“Stop looking at me like that,” Damien said quietly.
“Like what p>
“Like you’re trying to decide whether to kiss me or kill me p>
“Maybe both.” I stood, needing to move, to do something with my hands but my palms were sweating. “In that order p>
He laughed, low and rough.”I’d die happy p>
“Don’t tempt me.” I headed toward the kitchen, the marble floor was cool under my bare feet. “I need wine, lots of wine p>
“Long day p>
“You could say that.” I pulled a bottle from his absurdly well-stocked wine fridge. The glass was cold against my fingers. “Let’s see—Marcus is destroying your reputation, your board wants you gone, Lucas grabbed me, and we’re living together pretending to be a happy family. So yes, long day p>
Damien appeared behind me, taking the bottle and corkscrew from my hands, his fingers brushed mine. “Let me p>
He opened it with practiced ease, poured two generous glasses, and handed me one.
“To survival,” he said, raising his glass.
“To not killing each other.” I clinked mine against his.
We drank in silence, standing too close in the dimly lit kitchen. The wine was smooth on my tongue, It left a pleasant warmth in my throat. I could taste blackberry.
“I talked to the board,” Damien said finally. His voice was rough. “Convinced them to give me two weeks to clean up the Marcus situation p>
“How’d you manage that p>
“Threatened to tank the stock price if they removed me.” He shrugged as his shoulders rolled with the movement. “It’s amazing what people will overlook when their portfolios are at stake p>
“That’s ruthless p>
“I learned from the best.” His eyes held mine, they were darker now. “You p>
“I’m not ruthless p>
“You built an empire in a few years while raising a child alone.” He set down his glass. It thunked softly against the counter. He moved closer. “You’re the most ruthless person I know, it’s incredibly attractive p>
“Damien”
“I’m serious.” His hand came up to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. His fingers grazed my cheek as the touch sent electricity down my spine. “Watching you negotiate business deals, watching you put people in their place, watching you protect Noah—it’s like watching a queen command her kingdom p>
“Stop.” But I didn’t move away, couldn’t move away. My feet were rooted to the floor. “You don’t get to say things like that p>
“Why not p>
“Because it confuses things. Because we’re supposed to be focused on Marcus, on keeping Noah safe, on”
“On pretending we don’t want each other?” His thumb brushed my jaw slowly, the rough pad of his thumb caught on my skin. “How’s that working out for you p>
“Fine.” My voice came out breathy. “Perfectly fine p>
“Liar.” He leaned closer. I could feel his breath on my neck, his lips were near my ear. “Your pulse is racing, your pupils are dilated. You’re leaning into me even as you tell me to stop p>
“That’s just” I swallowed hard. My throat was dry despite the wine. “Adrenaline from the day. From stress p>
“Is it?” His hand slid to the back of my neck, fingers tangling in my hair. His touch was firm, possessive as heat radiated from his palm. “Then tell me to stop, Aria. Tell me you don’t want this and I’ll walk away p>
I should. I absolutely should. But instead, I grabbed his shirt. The cotton was soft. Still warm from his body and pulled him down to me.
The kiss was explosive, his hands gripped my waist as he lifted me onto the kitchen island. The marble was cold against my thighs. I wrapped my legs around him, pulling him closer. His stubble scraped against my chin.
“Aria.” My name came out as a groan against my lips. His breath mixed with mine. “We should”
“Don’t.” I kissed him harder. My fingers dug into his shoulders. I could feel his muscles tensing under my hands. “Don’t talk, just”
A door opened down the hallway. We sprang apart like teenagers caught by parents. Damien stepped back, adjusting his shirt. I slid off the counter. My legs felt shaky, the marble had left cold patches on my skin. I smoothed my hair but my hands were trembling.
Noah appeared in the kitchen doorway, rubbing his eyes. His hair stuck up at odd angles. “Mama? I’m thirsty p>
“Of course, baby.” I grabbed a glass with shaking hands. The glass rattled slightly. “Let me get you some water p>
Damien leaned against the far counter, his chest heaving, watching me with dark eyes. His lips were red. Swollen. I forced myself to look away.
I filled Noah’s cup. The water ran cold from the tap, it splashed into the glass. I handed it to him and guided him back to his room. My hand rested on his small shoulder. “Drink this and get back in bed, okay p>
“Okay.” He yawned. “Mama? Are you and Daddy fighting p>
“What? No, sweetie why would you think that p>
“You look all red and messy.” He touched my face, his little fingers were cool.”Like when you run up the stairs too fast p>
“Just tired.” I kissed his forehead. He smelled like baby shampoo. “Go to sleep, I will check on you in a bit p>
“Love you, Mama p>
“Love you too, baby p>
I waited until he was back in bed. His breathing slowed then deepened he was fast asleep as I patted his head before returning to the kitchen.
Damien hadn’t moved. He stood exactly where I’d left him, tension radiating from every line of his body. The kitchen suddenly felt too small. I could still taste him on my lips.
“That can’t happen again,” I said.
“I know p>
“I mean it, Damien. We can’t—while Noah is here, while Marcus is threatening us”
“I know.” He pushed off the counter. His footsteps were quiet on the marble as he moved toward me. “But it will happen again, Aria. Maybe not tonight, maybe not tomorrow, but eventually we’re going to stop fighting this p>
“There’s nothing to fight p>
“Really?” He stopped inches away. I could feel the heat coming off him. “So if I kissed you right now, you’d feel nothing p>
“I’d feel annoyed p>
“Try again.” His hand cupped my face. “The truth this time p>
“Fine.” I met his eyes defiantly. “I’d feel everything. Every touch, every kiss, every moment I tried to forget. Happy now p>
“No.” His thumb traced my bottom lip. Slowly the touch was almost unbearable. “Because I’d feel the same thing. And knowing we both want this but we can’t have it? That’s its own kind of torture p>
“Good.” I stepped back before I could do something stupid as cold air rushed between us. “You deserve to be tortured p>
“I know.” He smiled sadly but the expression didn’t reach his eyes. “But someday, when this is all over, when Marcus is dealt with and Noah is safe—can we stop torturing each other p>
“Ask me then p>