Chapter Five
T he elevator doors opened on the garage level.
Stalking .
Trespassing .
Speechless, I stood princess still. Then I fought to remember all the etiquette my mother had religiously drilled into me since before I was old enough to know what she was talking about.
Stand straight.
Don’t fidget.
Smile with politeness, not wild abandon.
Be feminine, but be strong.
Be purposeful, but not obvious.
Show no weakness.
Move with grace.
But none of those instructions ever prepared me for the type of man standing in front of me right now. Not even my father, who ruled a country, was this dominant. My father was a shrewd businessman first and a compassionate king second, but he was nothing like the man in front of me who wore a gun like most women wore jewelry. His gun was as much a part of him as his wide shoulders and intense stare.
When he looked at me, his intensity was so complete I had no room to move, let alone breathe. The worst part was that I didn’t want room to negotiate a proper amount of distance between us. Every word out of his mouth, antagonistic or bedroom soft, made me want to move closer to him.
I had never had this reaction to a man before .
Not knowing what to do with myself, let alone how to defend myself against the truth he’d just laid at my feet, I said nothing.
And neither did he.
His hand holding the elevator door, keeping it from sliding closed, he simply stared at me. Not just stared, he watched me like he was studying me and reading my thoughts, all the while planning his moves five steps past what I would ever expect.
Knowing it was a test if I walked out before him, I stood still and relived every coarse word out of his mouth, as well as the one hidden in the middle of one of his sentences. He’d called me beautiful.
The irony was that he was beautiful.
“Still waiting, Princess,” he said quietly.
I mustered all of the poise I could. “I gathered.”
“Yeah?” His voice dropped lower. “What did you gather?”
I did not see the point of playing games with him. “That you were waiting for me to either make a mistake and walk in front of you, or defend my actions against your earlier accusations of stalking and trespassing.”
The sound of a vehicle pulling into the garage spurred him into action.
Quicker than a blink of an eye, he pivoted in front of me and his hand went to his gun. Scanning the parking garage, he watched a sedan drive past the elevator and pull down an aisle to park, then he took me by the arm. “Time to move, sweetheart.”
The endearment was said so casually, and without hesitation, that I wasn’t sure if he even realized he’d said it.
But I did.
My heart fluttered against my ribs, and my stomach took a dip. Completely out of my element, I did not watch my step as we exited the elevator.
The heel of my silver lurex peep-toe Louboutin got caught in the threshold of space between the garage floor and the car of the elevator.
I pitched forward .
My gasp barely had time to escape my lips when I hit a solid wall of muscle.
Reacting faster than any reflex I’d ever had, Damian stopped my fall with his strong chest as his huge arms wrapped around me.
“ Careful .” Rough, hard, his warning wasn’t a warning so much as it was an order.
His breath on my cheek, his voice in my ear, I couldn’t think straight. My hands landed on his hard biceps, then my world just… froze.
No letters.
No stalker.
No art gallery opening.
No halfway life straddling two countries and two names.
I was suddenly just a woman in the arms of a man.
A solid, strong, incredible-smelling man. A man holding me up because my right heel was stuck. A man not moving away from the death grip I had on his arms. A man stepping into the mess my life was without blinking an eye.
Every ounce of stress I’d been holding in chose that moment to let loose, and the unthinkable happened.
Tears welled.
Shame hit my consciousness, embarrassment swelled to epic proportions, and I wanted to dissolve into this man’s arms like the simple act would fix everything in my life. “I’m sorry.” I swallowed past the lump in my throat and my voice broke. “My heel is stuck.”
“Hey, hey, hey,” he soothed, instantly dialing down his tone as he took in the look on my face. “You’re okay.” His hand ran up my back in a gentle caress. “I got you, sweetheart.”
Desperately fighting to remain composed, a rogue tear escaped, and I wanted to crawl in a hole and hide forever. “I’m so sorry. I swear, I never cry.”
He grasped the side of my face, and his too-blue eyes gazed at me with nothing except compassion. “It’s all good. I got you.” Sweeping his thumb over my cheek, he gave me a smile. “Just hold on a sec, okay? ”
Horrified, I nodded.
He gracefully dropped to squat. “Hands on my shoulders, babe.”
I did as he said.
“That’s it,” he murmured, grasping my ankle. “Now lift your foot out of your shoe, sweetheart.”
The heat of his hand made awareness shoot up my leg and curl low in my stomach. Pointing my toe, I pulled my foot out.
He pried the heel free, and his hand moved to the back of my calf. “Minimal damage. Shoe’s gonna be fine.” He held my Louboutin. “Okay, back on.”
Watching him squat next to me as he held my leg made desire like I’d never known course through my veins. Heat flamed my over sensitized skin from my toes to my cheeks, and I slipped my foot back into my shoe. Releasing his shoulders, I quickly stepped back.
He rose to his full height, and it was as if all the air got sucked out of the elevator.
His expression darkened, his eyes grew more intense and he stepped toward me. “Wrong way, beautiful.”
Quiet, but low and ominous, his voice was a physical touch like a hot summer wind. My skin heated, my head swam and I licked my suddenly dry lips. Never feeling these kinds of emotions, suddenly unsure of my every breath, I took another step back and hit the elevator wall. A small sound of shock escaped my lips.
His arm caught me around my waist as his blue eyes studied me intently. “Ready?”
“Damian,” I whispered, not sure what was happening to my body or my mind.
“Hold on.”
It was all the warning I got.
My chest hit his and my feet left the ground. “Oh!” I grasped at his strong arms.
Effortlessly holding my body against his, he stepped backward out of the elevator, then put me back down. A smile touched his full lips, and the intensely sexual vibe of a moment ago vanished from his heated expression.
He winked. “I’ve never liked elevators.”
“Sophia?”
My hands still on his arms, I felt every muscle of his stiffen a split second before he reached for his gun and pivoted, making himself a human shield between me and the woman.
“Can I help you?” he asked, not unkindly, but not without warning.
“Oh, I’m no threat,” the older woman chuckled. “I just wanted to say hello to Sophia. Darling?” she asked.
Still trying to catch my breath, I stepped around Damian as his hand went to my waist. Recognizing the older woman as a patron of the gallery, I smiled, praying my waterproof mascara had not run. “Mrs. Humphries, how lovely to see you.”
“Likewise, my dear.” She sized up Damian. “And who do we have here?”
Damian gave her a half smile. “Tyler. Nice to meet you, Mrs. Humphries.”
Mrs. Humphries laughed. “Please, no formalities. You almost pulled your gun on me.”
Damian dropped his half smile. “My apologies, ma’am.”
“Already forgotten. Although, I must admit, it is the most excitement I’ve seen in the garage for years.” Mrs. Humphries turned back to me. “I am so looking forward to the opening tomorrow, dear. Although, I did not realize you lived here.”
“Oh, no.” I shook my head. “I’m just visiting.” I glanced at Damian, but when I looked back at Mrs. Humphries, I realized my mistake.
She was grinning. “Yes, visiting. So early in the morning.” She gave Damian a knowing look. “You have yourself quite a lady, Tyler.”
I stiffened. “Oh, no. Mrs. Humphries, he’s—”
“I couldn’t agree more,” Damian interrupted, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. “Beautiful and smart.”
My mouth suddenly dry, I swallowed .
A smile lit up Mrs. Humphries’s weathered face. “Ah, such a romantic.” A sparkle in her eye, she looked at me. “And I quite enjoyed your Cinderella moment, dear.”
I practically choked. “Yes, well, I should be more careful where I step.”
She glanced at Damian. “It looks like you’re stepping exactly where you need to.” She sighed and patted her chest. “Yes, well, I best get upstairs.” She winked at me. “I will see you tomorrow, dear. Make sure you bring this handsome man of yours in case I need more than the art to look at.”