As an art lover, this idea makes my heart sink, but I can’t blame him. What else can he do? As a full-time working senior member of the royal family, he can hardly send out his resumés and sit for interviews. At least I can get a job as, I don’t know, a restaurant server or something if I need to.
“That sounds like a good plan.”
“Still…” He chooses his words with delicate care. “I am very fond of Percy. I don’t see why you two can’t let cooler heads prevail. Talk things through. You young people grow and mature as you get older. Why not grow together? And It’s not as though there’s some giant obstacle, is there?”
Right on cue, Damon flashes through my mind, leaving me quietly flustered and tingly.
Exactly the way I’ve been since I first laid eyes on him three weeks ago.
I picture his thick sable hair and the way it falls across his forehead. The intensity of his dark eyes and those expressive brows. The harsh lines of his nose, cheekbones and profile, softened by his lush mouth and astonishing smile. His five o’clock shadow. His voice. His scent of something citrusy with cedar and the way it makes my blood run hot.
His humor and intelligence. His passion. His mischievous laugh.
His stellar cock.
I shift restlessly in my seat, uncrossing and recrossing my legs as I studiously avoid my father’s gaze.
For the record, I’ve had my share of sex. With Percy and a couple of other guys during a period when we briefly broke up years ago, when I first arrived in the States for school. Everything from fumbling and awkward teenage sex in the back of some parental car to adequate college sex, quick sex, slow sex, accidental sex and perfectly lovely adult sex. The issue is that I’ve never had anything approaching Damon sex, which is sex that leaves you as an obliterated and throbbing smudge of creamy lady bits on the floor.
Is it getting warm in here? I adjust the vents until they’re aimed directly at my overheated face.
I honestly think he broke something inside me. Because now I have to live with the knowledge that there is a man out there who knows everything about my body already. I don’t have to teach him anything or demonstrate anything. He knows it better than I know it myself. And the thought of his knowledge leaves me in a perpetual state of agitated breathlessness. It makes me look for him in every crowd. Strain my ears for the sound of his voice whenever I hear a man speak. Hell, even the thought of his name makes my nipples peak and my panties damp.
He’s become a bit of an obsession since that night, exactly as I feared he would. That’s why I walked out. Well, that and my absolute dread of an awkward morning after. Why not make things easier on both of us and extract myself without forcing him to pretend he wants my phone number? I’m not an expert in one-night stands, but I know that much.
I also know that a single interlude with him was enough to provide absolute clarity over my situation with Percy. I have no business connecting with a man the way I connected with Damon and then marrying someone else. That’s one of the main reasons why I immediately flew back to London and made that final break with Percy. I could never—ever—let him touch me again after the way Damon made me feel.
Not that I plan to pin any girlish hopes on a man with whom I shared only a single night. No matter how phenomenal that night was. Especially at this vulnerable transition phase of my life. I don’t want or need a man in my life to be happy. I want and need something to do with myself. A career.
“I’m not getting back with Percy, Daddy,” I said coldly as the car rolls to a stop in front of a massive and brightly lit brownstone, determined not to foster false hopes in him or anyone else. I gather my clutch and climb out of the car when the driver opens the door for us. I take my father’s arm as we head up the steps. “You might as well get used to that idea right now. There’s nothing to talk through. I’ve already said it all.”
“Sorry to hear that, poppet,” he says out of the corner of his mouth before sliding into his most charming social smile for the benefit of some of our hosts, who stand at the other end of a receiving line in the huge foyer. “Because I invited Percy tonight. Thought it might give you lovebirds the chance to reconnect.”
And there in the archway, blonde and handsome in his dark suit and tie, a whiskey in hand and a bright and hopeful smile on his face, stands Percy.
I freeze, my entire face and body slowly turning to concrete around my pleasant smile and my outrage.
“For fuck’s sake, Daddy!” I cry out of the side of my mouth. “What did you do?”
“You’ll thank me later,” he says airily.
I proceed, dazed, through endless greetings with people I don’t know in the receiving line, managing what I hope are socially appropriate responses to all the well-wishers.
And then, way too soon, I find myself face to face with my former fiancé.
“I’ll leave you to it, Perce,” my father says with a hearty shake and a bracing clap on Percy’s shoulder. “I did what I could on your behalf, but you’ve got your work cut out for you tonight.”
I do my best to incinerate my father with the strength of my malice, but he seems impervious and zooms away like a rat doggy-paddling away from the Titanic while she sinks to the bottom of the Atlantic. Leaving me alone with Percy and the knot of dread lodged deep in my belly.
“Hello, darling,” he says.
I privately bristle at the use of the endearment, but I have more pressing concerns as he leans in to kiss me on both cheeks. I pull back as quickly as possible and keep my expression as bland as possible, mindful of any roaming photographers.
“Percy. Didn’t expect to see you here tonight.”
“I wanted to see you. Plead my case again.”
“Percy…”
“You look amazing, by the way.” His appreciative gaze sweeps me. “You always do.”
“Thanks,” I say uncomfortably, determined to extract myself from the situation immediately. “I don’t mean to be abrupt, but there’s really no point—”
“Is that you, Carly?”
I turn, delighted at the interruption and even more delighted when I see who it is. It’s Damon’s brother Ryker, smiling and handsome in his dark suit. I can’t help but scan the crowd behind him, hoping against hope that Damon is also here tonight, but no such luck. Still, something inside me soars at this renewed connection with Damon and that magical night, no matter how slight. No matter what Damon may or may not have told him about me.
“Ryker.” I smile and kiss him on both cheeks, determined to get his last name if nothing else. “Aren’t you a handsome devil tonight? So wonderful to see you again.”
“You too,” he says, turning to Percy with speculative interest as he extends his hand. “Ryker Black. Slight acquaintance of Carly’s.”
Black! Damon’s last name is Black, I realize with a delicious flush of pleasure. I could find him again if I wanted to.
Which, I now realize, I desperately do.
“Percy Wilson. Delighted.”
“Won’t you join us for a drink?” I ask, ridiculously eager to keep Ryker here for as long as possible.
“Love to,” he says, a disquieting glimmer of mischief sparking to light in his eyes. “I’ll be back in a few. There are some people I need to speak to first.”