26. Gabriella
Gabriella
“ V an sent his driver to meet us at the airport,” Damien said, sitting across from me as the plane came to a landing, gliding along the tarmac.
Beyond the small windows, the sun shone over the chilly northern Wisconsin scenery. Whitecaps on Chequamegon Bay glistened, and the deciduous trees swayed in a breeze, their limbs covered with immature leaves. Such as an oasis in a sea of gray, color also dotted the landscape. Trees and bushes contrasted the pale blue sky with their vibrant flowers, species that had bloomed a month ago in Indianapolis. With a shiver, I looked down at the clothes I was now wearing and smiled. “The blazer was a good idea. It looks cooler up here than it was in Indy.”
Damien nodded and lowered his voice. “If your nipples get hard, I’m going to tell myself it’s because of me.”
“Inappropriate.” A smile curled my lips. “If they do, you won’t be able to see because of the blazer.”
“I’ll know.”
“How?” I asked, lifting my chin.
“Oh, Ella, I know you. I see the signs, the way your cheeks take on a pink hue, your thighs clench, and you cross your arms over your sensational breasts.”
I shook my head, wondering if the warmth in my cheeks was alerting Damien of his ability to get to me. Pressing my lips together, I decided against a rebuttal, knowing that if I said more, so would he.
A few moments later the plane came to a stop and Angie reappeared. “I’ll be right out with your luggage, Ms. Crystal and Mr. Sinclair.”
Before I could comment, she was gone. I leaned my head back against the seat and sighed.
“Dollar for your thoughts,” Damien said.
Dollar?
“Inflation is real.”
Damien didn’t speak, yet the way he was looking at me bid a response.
“When you and I were together…when I worked for Sinclair, somewhere along the line it became second nature to have other people do my bidding. I wasn’t raised that way. I’m capable of getting my own suitcase. I didn’t realize how accustomed to the servitude I’d become until I left you.” I sat forward. “There is something rewarding in the ability to care for oneself—you should try it.”
The way his square jaw clenched, I believed Damien was truly thinking about my comment. Finally, he spoke, “I’ll only disagree with you on the characterization of servitude. The people who work for me are paid employees, well paid. If they didn’t want to do the duties of the job, they have complete freedom to walk away. As for the rewarding aspect, you’re right. There are many things I prefer to do for myself. Instead of thinking of the assistance of others as relinquishing your self- care, try to think of it as improving your ability, thus enhancing your self-care. When we step off this plane, we will first be taken to the hotel. During the next hour we will go to Donovan’s office where you will meet Julia. Later in the day, more members of the coalition will arrive. Your thoughts should be on those meetings.” He nodded toward my satchel. “The information about the coalition members you’ve gleaned from public sources and any tidbits I’ve shared. Having Angie retrieve your luggage simply allows you to concentrate on what’s important.”
“Is there more I should know?” I asked, fully concentrating on the upcoming meetings. “About the members of the coalition?”
Damien nodded.
“I’m all ears.”
“Be yourself with the Shermans. They’re sincerely great people. Julia connected the various members of the coalition based on our similar size, geographic location, and belief that we were noncompetitive. If I had been the one to set up this alliance, I would have chosen a few different members.”
“Are there people you don’t like?”
Damien shrugged. “It isn’t about personal likes or dislikes. Because of the way this partnership was formed, I trust everyone’s business sense. I don’t want to poison your opinion. We can talk tonight after we return to the hotel. At that time, tell me your thoughts.”
While his comment made me a bit uneasy, I could do as he asked. Working a room of people was what I did. The difference with this coalition would be that instead of extracting donations, I would be their connection as they partner with Beta Kappa Phi.
Angie came from the aft of the plane, rolling my suitcase.
“Thank you,” I said, reaching for the handle.
“We can get it down to the car,” she offered. My gaze met Damien’s for only a moment, acknowledging that this was Angie’s job, one I was certain she was well compensated to do. That didn’t mean I couldn’t be appreciative. “Thank you.”
Cool air filled the cabin as the door to the plane opened and the stairs descended.
“I should have requested a coat for you,” Damien said. “If you’re too cold, you may wear my suit coat.”
“I’ll be fine,” I replied with a grin. “Besides, only friends…remember?”
“You should know me well enough to know that I wouldn’t let a friend get cold.”
Our seat belts were unclipped, and we were standing. In a cloud of his spicy cologne, I lifted my chin to meet his stare. “You’d offer Van Sherman your coat?”
He pressed his firm lips together. “Perhaps my kindnesses are most frequently bestowed upon friends of the female persuasion.” The intensity of his stare shone down on me. His focus momentarily going to my lips.
Perhaps it was because I wanted to know I had someone on my side as I entered the upcoming meetings. Or maybe it was simply lust over the man I’d tried to forget. No matter the answer, as we stood in silence, a familiar desire awakening within us and swirling around us, my nipples grew hard and my mouth went dry. Before I could say a word, Damien’s palms came to my cheeks, pulling my face upward as his kiss captured my phrases.
In mere seconds, my entire body was on fire, a blaze reignited that maybe never actually was fully extinguished.
Within his grasp, my heart beat quicker than it had a moment before. I pressed toward him, aware that the timing was wrong, and at the same time, unconcerned. Damien’s tongue sought mine as his kiss grew more intense. It was as his hand wandered under the blazer and I felt the heat of his touch through the blouse that I took a step back, my hand pushing on his wide chest.
There was something I couldn’t read in his blue orbs.
His regular smirk was absent as were his cocky remarks.
“I’m glad you’re here,” he said. Lifting the tip of his finger to my lips, he grinned. “I’ll behave, Ella. Your lips are stunning when they’re swollen.” He looked up, focusing on my eyes. “It’s a sight I love to see, but it’s not for everyone. By the time we get to Van’s office, no one will be the wiser.” He dropped his hand.
I thought about what he’d said earlier. “You mentioned the probationary period as CEO. I don’t remember the exact wording.” My brow furrowed as I tilted my head. “You’ve done so much for Sinclair. You can’t be concerned that the board would replace you. Was there some clause about Mr. Sinclair?” I was speaking of Damien’s father, Derek Sinclair.
Damien’s nostrils flared. “We can talk tonight.”
When I turned toward the open door, Allen and Angie were there in their places, turned away from us. I lowered my volume. “They have the routine down pat, to turn away when Mr. Sinclair is making out with his guest.”
Damien reached for my hand. “You, Gabriella. It’s a rather tangled story, but to be honest, my personal life has been a shit show since you left me. I’d venture to guess they’ve witnessed more verbal disputes than make-out sessions. They’re glad to have you back.”
“What does that mean? A shit show?”
He shook his head. “It’s time to concentrate on the present.”
As we stepped from the airplane, my cheeks tingled from the cold wind, and I squinted my eyes at an onslaught of bright sunlight. A car was waiting on the tarmac with a tall man in a long coat standing by its side. Damien stepped forward, offering his hand.
“Damien Sinclair,” he said.
“Michael Ricks, sir.” The man turned to me with a nod. “Ms. Crystal and Mr. Sinclair, I’m happy to be of service to you while you’re visiting Ashland.”
Wrapping my arms around myself, I smiled. “Could you by any chance make it a little warmer?”
Michael laughed as he opened the back door to the car. “The heat is on inside the car.”
Quickly, I scooted into the back seat and Damien followed. A shiver ran through me as we settled inside. “It’s May,” I said. “Does it get warm here?”
Damien chuckled. “You’ll need to ask Van, but if my firsthand knowledge is correct, the short answer is no. The long answer is probably for a very short time in the summer.”
The city of Ashland, Wisconsin, was absolutely quaint. Not only were the buildings in pristine condition out of some 1960s movie, but many of the buildings had beautiful murals painted on the sides. Despite the cold, Main Street was lined with flowerpots filled with colorful and no doubt, hardy flowers. Michael drove us to the front of a large white hotel on the shore of Chequamegon Bay. Stepping within, we were met with warmth and the scent of burning wood. Tall wooden pillars, ornate trim, and charming antique furnishings added to the ambience, the sensation of stepping back in time.
When Damien gave the woman his name, she turned to me. “And you are Gabriella Crystal?”
“I am.”
“Just a moment,” she said as she concentrated on the computer screen before her. Soon, she handed me a keycard in an envelope. “Here is your key and room number. You’re in a king-size suite overlooking the lake.”
My lips curled upward. “Thank you,” I replied, accepting the key.
“And now for your room, Mr. Sinclair.”
As the woman took care of Damien, I walked near the fireplace, peering out toward what she called a lake view. I supposed Chequamegon Bay was part of Lake Superior. Instead of concentrating on the proper description for the body of water, my thoughts lingered on the reality that two rooms had been booked. That discovery reminded me of what Damien said about why we hadn’t—why he hadn’t—touched me like he had a week ago. Funny how the knowledge that he respected my boundaries made me want to change them.
Taking in the atmosphere, I made a complete circle, landing my sight back on the incredibly handsome man at the counter.
Damien turned, his smile on full display. “Ms. Crystal, our rooms are near one another. Shall we take our luggage upstairs? And then we have one stop before we meet Van and Julia.”
As we walked toward the elevator, each pulling our own suitcase, I asked, “What is our stop?”
“The nice woman at the counter recommended a boutique in town.”
“For what?”
“To get you a coat.”
The elevator doors opened, we stepped inside, and Damien pushed the button to the top floor.
“I have plenty of coats at home. Maybe if I had packed for myself…”
“You would have thought of a coat for a late-May weekend trip?”
My smile grew as I shook my head. “In all honesty, probably not. So, you’re forgiven. I don’t need a coat.”
“I held your hand when we entered the car and felt how cool it was.” The doors opened to the top floor, and we stepped out. Damien again reached for my hand and leaned his forehead toward mine. “I’m not working this hard to win you back to lose you to pneumonia.”
“You aren’t always an ass.”
His grin quirked. “That’s good to know.”
“Sometimes you can be charming.”
“I shouldn’t be responsible for my behavior when we’re together.” He kissed my forehead, and his timbre lowered. “I’m intoxicated by your presence.”
Warmth bubbled within me, taking away the cold of the outdoors.
Don’t hurt me.
The words were on the tip of my tongue.
No matter what I told myself about having a life away from Damien, when I was with him, I wanted him. Each day, hour, minute, that hunger grew.
Was that what he meant by being intoxicated, the point when rational judgment leaves and desire takes over?
Swallowing my concerns, I forced a smile. “I’m going to my room and freshen up.”
His grasp of my hand lingered.
“Damien?”
A deep breath expanded his wide chest. “I’ll be to your room in ten minutes.” His cocky grin was back. “And no multitasking until tonight.”
“Can I trust you?”
“Probably not, but I want you to.”