Chapter 24
CHAPTER 24
D amian wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, the damp cloth he’d been using to clean the Yamaha now draped over his shoulder. The sun hung high in the sky, beating down on him with relentless intensity. At least his hangover had started to lift.
He drained the last of his bottle of water, admiring his handiwork.
The bike gleamed, its once-filthy chrome now catching the light in a way that was almost satisfying. He ought to be pleased with his accomplishment, but he couldn’t shake the unease that had been gnawing at him all morning.
That’s why he’d thrown himself into the task with a determination bordering on obsession, trying to scrub away the remnants of last night’s tension.
It hadn’t worked.
Coming here... The pain it had unleashed had erected a wall between them, and he was on the outside, unable to scale it.
Anger simmered deep in his gut, but there was nothing he could do about it. He had no right to be jealous of a ghost, yet that didn’t stop the sour taste in his mouth every time he thought of Jaden.
Fuck.
His hand tightened around the cloth. It wasn’t like him to get so worked up over something—or someone—he couldn’t control. But Thorn wasn’t just anyone. She had gotten under his skin, burrowed into a place he hadn’t thought was still vulnerable. And now, with that unspoken weight hanging between them, he wasn’t sure what to do with the feelings she stirred in him.
He glanced up when he heard the soft hiss of the patio door sliding open. Thorn stepped onto the porch, a tall glass of lemonade in each hand, the ice clinking softly as she made her way down the steps.
He tried not to notice the way the sunlight caught in her hair, turning it into a bronze halo around her face.
“Thirsty?” she asked, coming up to him.
“Yeah, thanks.” He took the glass and raised it to his lips. The lemonade was cold and tangy, the perfect antidote to the sweltering heat. Downing it in one go, he set the glass down on the ground.
She nodded to the motorcycle. “You’ve done a great job. It looks brand new.”
Damian shrugged. “Needed something to keep me busy.”
Thorn’s fingers tightened briefly around her glass, but the smile that followed was genuine, if a little bittersweet. “I suppose I’m to blame for that.”
“I don’t blame you for anything,” he said quietly. “It is what it is.”
She looked off into the distance, and instead of the pinched expression she’d had since she got here, there was an almost peacefulness about her now.
“I know, but I still owe you an apology.” She paused. “I’ve done some thinking, and some tidying up, and I’m feeling much better.”
He stared, puzzled. “I’m glad.”
She gave a self-deprecating chuckle. “No more emotional outbursts, I promise.”
“I was glad to be able to help.” He paused. “At least, I hope I helped.”
A soft smile that made his heart sing. “You did.”
Something had shifted between them—he could feel it, even if he didn’t fully understand it. For the first time since they’d come to this farmhouse, he allowed himself to hope. Hope that whatever demons she’d conquered would leave a little space in her heart for him.
“How about a run?”
Damian glanced up from the book he’d started reading, one of Jaden’s, and broke into a grin. “Sounds good.”
The sun was dipping low in the sky when they set off, casting long shadows across the dry, cracked earth. The air was still thick with heat, but it had lost its punishing edge, making it just bearable enough to work out.
Damian fell into an easy rhythm beside Thorn, his boots crunching against the gravel as they made their way down the dusty path leading away from the farmhouse.
It felt great. Damn, did he need this.
The steady thud of his feet on the ground, the way his breath synchronized with Thorn’s—there was something oddly calming about it. A little too calming, given the storm of emotions swirling inside him.
He glanced over at Thorn, noting the ease in her stride, the way she seemed almost... light. Maybe she really had moved on. Her shoulders were less rigid, and there was a faint smile that tugged at her lips.
He didn’t know what to make of that.
It was like she’d finally let go of whatever had been holding her back. It made her even more irresistible, and that scared the hell out of him.
“Race you to that old tree?” Her voice cut through his thoughts, light and teasing.
Damian blinked, caught off guard by the challenge. “You serious?”
Her grin widened, and she took off without another word, sprinting ahead of him. For a second, he just stood there, watching her go, the sway of her hips almost hypnotic.
Then his competitive streak kicked in, and he surged forward, his longer strides quickly closing the distance between them.
She was fast, but he had the advantage of power. Within moments, he was right behind her, close enough to hear her laugh—an honest-to-God laugh—something that made his chest tighten in ways he didn’t want to examine too closely.
He pushed himself harder, and just as they reached the old, gnarled tree that marked the end of their makeshift race, he caught up to her. They both skidded to a stop, panting and out of breath, grinning like idiots.
Damian couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this free.
“You almost had me there,” he said between breaths, leaning forward with his hands on his knees.
Thorn brushed a strand of hair away from her face, her eyes sparkling with something that made his stomach flip. “Almost? I think I did.”
“Not quite,” he shot back, a playful edge in his tone. “You were just lucky I let you get a head start.”
“Is that so?” She raised an eyebrow, still catching her breath. “Well, next time, I won’t go so easy on you.”
Damian chuckled, shaking his head as he straightened up. His pulse was still racing, but not just from the run. The air buzzed around them, like it had after the live music at the taverna.
He wasn’t sure how to handle it, this new side to Thorn—the side that flirted, that smiled like she didn’t have the weight of the world on her shoulders.
His body did, however.
Every instinct screamed at him to close the distance between them, to act on the magnetic pull he felt whenever she was near.
But what then? What would that mean? He didn’t want to mess this up, didn’t want to spoil it by moving too soon.
Still, the tension between them was undeniable, and it was getting harder to ignore. His eyes traced the curve of her neck, the way her skin glistened with sweat in the dimming light. It would be so easy to reach out, to pull her close and find out if the fire between them was still there.
But he didn’t. Not yet.
They jogged back in comfortable silence, the night settling around them. When they reached the farmhouse, they were both drenched in sweat, but in an upbeat mood.
“You shower first,” he said to her. The old farmhouse only had one bathroom.
“You sure?”
“Yeah, go for it.”
Thorn paused at the bathroom door, turning to face him. Her eyes were dancing. “I really enjoyed that.”
“Me too.”
There was a brief pause, and then she smiled and went inside.
Damian walked into the living room and opened the patio doors wide to let in the cooler air. As he stood there, staring out at the horizon, he knew one thing for sure.
He wasn’t out of the game yet.
Not by a long shot.
The air continued to buzz all the way through supper, which they ate on the patio again, washed down with a bottle of wine. And afterward, they sat outside talking softly.
“You never told me why your wife left you,” she said when they were halfway through their second glass.
He hesitated. “I don’t actually know.”
Thorn frowned. “Really?”
“Yeah. She said she was going back to the hotel for a massage. I was scuba diving at the time, I think.” He scoffed bitterly at his own naivety. “When I got back to our hotel room, she was gone.”
“Weren’t you worried?” Thorn looked across at him.
“Not really. She’d packed her things up and left. A taxi had come to collect her. I checked with the hotel concierge.”
“Oh.”
He ground his jaw. “Yeah.”
Her voice dropped to a whisper. “So you have no idea why she left?”
“I think she got cold feet. Maybe she didn’t want to be married to me. Who knows? Her father coerced her into it. I know that much.”
“Alek made her marry you?” Thorn’s eyebrows rose in surprise.
“In a sense. I mean, he sent her to seduce me, and by marrying me, they’d keep me in the family business. I’d have no choice but continue to do Alek’s bidding.”
“It’s so manipulative,” she hissed. “What a bastard, using his own daughter like that.”
“Yep.” Damian nodded. “That pretty much sums him up.”
She shook her head. “Did you ever look for her?”
“I did. I got a private investigator to find her a couple of years later. By then I’d already fallen out with Alek.”
“You saw her?”
He shook his head. “I got the P.I. to deliver the divorce papers. Rebecca was flitting around the world, traveling and having fun. She had no issue with signing them.”
“Wow,” Thorn breathed. “I’m sorry, Damian. That’s tough.”
“I’m not.” He looked over at her, her hair lifting softly in the breeze. There was no denying it, he was falling face-first, head over heels for his beautiful Rose.
His.
When had he started thinking of her as his?
Since that first kiss. Maybe earlier, since their fake marriage. That’s why he’d been so uptight about Jaden, because he’d gotten used to having the dead man’s wife all to himself, and now he was having to share her again.
Except, maybe not.
Something had shifted in her. He’d known it from the run. He’d never allowed himself to hope so much for something in his life.
Now he needed to know.
But he still didn’t want to push it. Didn’t want to send her flying back to that dark place she’d been in when they’d arrived at the farmhouse. He needed her to be okay with it.
With him.
So he waited and did nothing.