HAPTER 10
The moment I saw his eyes, I knew I was in serious danger. Danger of weakening and caving. And I couldn't let myself.
Damien's dark, long-lashed, charcoal-gray eyes were just one of the many, many things I found attractive about him. And sometimes when he fixed me with his piercing gaze, I found him almost literally impossible to resist. Which was what was happening currently. I'd been arranging pots of rust-red mums on the front porch of the guest cabin I was staying in when I'd noticed him ambling up the lane. He was now maybe only thirty or forty feet away, glancing at me with those piercing gray eyes of his, making my stomach do flips.
Not waiting for him to get any closer, I set a pot of mums by the porch steps and stood, wiping my potting soil-covered hands on my jeans. "I can't talk to you, Damien. Not now. Not yet. Please just go."
He didn't turn around. He didn't stop walking. And in fact, he increased his pace to a stride.
Huffing, I folded my arms across my chest. "I mean it, Damien. I'm not ready to talk to you yet. I can't be near you and your...."
Embarrassed, I didn't finish the thought, realizing that I'd been about to say eyes. I could have also added long, hard body, too.
He still didn't stop or even slow in his approach. I huffed some more, knowing that any further protestations from me would be pointless.
It had been a week since I'd broken up with Nick. During that time, I hadn't spoken more than a few brief words to him or Damien, other than to repeatedly ask them both to please give me space and leave me alone. Which they'd both done, for the most part; however, the more time alone I spent, it seemed the more confused I was becoming.
I still felt hurt by Nick, and I was still mad at him, even though I know these feelings really weren't fair. I knew he couldn't have just left Alexandria behind in the forest to be ripped to shreds by the wolves. Though still, I couldn't help how I'd felt ever since he'd saved her when I myself had been in serious danger. And I couldn't just shut my feelings off like a faucet, regardless of whether or not these feelings were right or fair.
I also couldn't seem to shut off my growing feelings for Damien, feelings that had been getting stronger and stronger ever since he'd saved me from getting attacked by Ezra. And, I realized, maybe these feelings had been buried somewhere deep within my heart ever since he'd caught me when I'd jumped out the window when Ezra had been trying to kidnap me. I also realized that maybe these feelings had been buried somewhere deep within my heart even since the very first day I'd met Damien. Which made me uncomfortable, since my whole heart had supposedly belonged to Nick almost since that very first day.
I didn't know what I was going to do. I didn't really even have any kind of course of action to help me figure things out. All I knew was that I just didn't feel ready yet, to talk to either Nick or Damien, and I had no idea when I would. I knew that a tiny part of me was waiting to see if Nick was going to ask Alexandria to leave Crystal Falls, which, somewhat to my surprise, and definitely to my disappointment, he hadn't yet done.
Katie told me that she'd overheard Nick telling Sam that Alexandria didn't want to go back to Coldwater, her hometown, because she'd had some recent painful family losses and just didn't want to return. I knew it was possible that this was true, though I doubted it. It seemed more likely that Alexandria wanted to stick around in Crystal Falls to see if Nick would be willing to rekindle their romance now that I'd put the brakes on his and mine. Katie had confirmed my suspicions about this when she'd reported that all week Alexandria had been making attempts to spend time with Nick, despite the fact that he didn't seem interested.
While Damien approached the porch, he began whistling an upbeat tune. I stood on the porch, arms across my chest, watching him. Even just wearing a t-shirt and jeans, he was devastatingly attractive. The battered jeans hung low on his slim hips, and the white t-shirt was fitted just well enough to reveal the contours of his muscular chest. One hank of his dark, rakishly tousled hair hung over his forehead. Butterflies flapped their wings in my stomach, and I couldn't help but yet again tell him not to come any closer.
"And I really mean it, Damien. Don't you dare come up on this porch, or else...or else you might find yourself wearing a mum planter for a hat!"
Completely disregarding my warning, he jogged up the porch steps and came to a stop in front of me, his full mouth curving in a grin. "Sorry, were you saying something? I have a little water in my ears. You see, ever since you basically stopped speaking to me, I've taken to having long baths with a little toy duck to keep me company every day. I call her 'Miss Quackers.' And she's not nearly as beautiful as you, and not even a fraction as spirited, but...she's decent enough company, I guess. Terrible kisser, though."
Picturing Damien kissing a little toy duck, I cracked a smile, completely unable to resist.
"I'm sure." A smile slowly spread across his own face, and he reached for my shoulder.
"That's all I wanted to see. Just wanted to see you smile."
His touch, and the resulting increase of butterflies in my stomach, reminded me that I was in a dangerous situation. A situation where I could easily encourage his casual touch, maybe to the point that the touching got more intimate.
And so, keeping my arms folded across my chest, I shook his hand off. "Please just go. I'm not ready to talk to you right now."
His smile immediately faded.
"So you've said. And you've been acting like you're mad at me."
I sighed, a tiny bit ashamed of myself. "I'm not mad at you. And I'm sorry if I've come off that way. But I just...I just haven't wanted to get too near you."
"Why?"
I began turning away from him. "Please just go. I can't-"
"Why?" Putting his hand on my shoulder again, he stopped me and gently turned me to face him. "Why haven't you wanted to get too near me?"
"I don't want to talk about this right now. I just-"
"I came here for answers. So please just tell me. Why haven't you wanted to get too near me?"
The feel of his touch on my shoulder, even through the fabric of my shirt, was making me a little lightheaded and weak in the knees.
"Tell me, Daisy."
Suddenly a little frustrated and irritated, at both him and myself, for reasons I couldn't even articulate, I just let it all out. "I haven't wanted to get too near you because I'm afraid, okay? I'm afraid that I'm falling in love with you. And that maybe I already even have."
"And why is that a bad thing?"
I sputtered, incredulous. "Why is that a bad thing? You seriously need to ask? Nick and I may be broken up, but it's probably just temporary, and we're probably going to get back together fairly soon."
"Just 'probably'? That doesn't sound too convincing."
I sighed, trying to ignore the feel of his touch. "Look. I just have some stuff to work through with Nick, and in the meantime, it would probably help if I remained loyal to him, even though we're broken up. And I'm sure remaining loyal probably includes not getting too close to people who I...people who...."
“Who you’ve admitted you're afraid you might be falling in love with, and maybe already even have?"
Trying not to get completely lost in his deep gray eyes, I didn't answer right away. "Yes."
"And yet, you still think that you and Nick are going to get back together, and you still seem to think that's a good idea."
"Well...well, of course it is."
"Why?"
“Well, because I love him, of course. I love him deeply, even despite what happened with him saving Alexandria when I was in trouble myself. We have a deep bond and a true connection. And I don't think I should just throw that away just because I'm having really confusing feelings about someone else."
Damien still hadn't removed his hand from my shoulder, and now he put a hand on my other shoulder as well, looking deeply into my eyes. "You want to know what I think? What I really, really think?"
I really didn't, though I remained silent, and he continued.
"I think you're just delaying the inevitable, and you have been this entire past week. And by inevitable, I mean you telling Nick that you want a break for good, and that you're moving on. Because if you really still wanted to get back together with him...if you really still thought he's the man you're supposed to spend the rest of your life with...you'd be talking to him by now. You'd be trying to work things out. You wouldn't be dragging your feet. So, that tells me a lot. As does something else that points to your true feelings."
"And what's that?"
"The fact that if you really didn't want to talk to me today...if you really don't want to get too close to me...well, you could have just used your new little magic trick the moment you saw me approaching. And even if I'd spotted you first, I would have gotten the hint. But you didn't do your new magic trick. Didn't look like you even attempted it."
My new "magic trick" was a pretty incredible one, and I'd been stunned several days earlier when I'd discovered that I actually had the ability to do it. My new skill was that I had the ability to become invisible for short periods of time.
I'd learned of the possibility of my new ability by accident, with Katie. An older woman from town had donated some very old, tattered books to the museum I was starting, and many of the books were about magic and sorcery. One of them was even a book concerning certain prophecies regarding the wolves and women of the star, of which I still seemed to be the first and only one.
This book detailed how mating with a Woman of the Star would give a shifter wolf increased power, and it also detailed a particular gift that prophesied that women of the star would have. And this was the gift of being able to turn oneself invisible for short periods of time just by using a little mental focus and concentration.
With Katie standing by and encouraging me, I spent several hours attempting to do this skill and make it happen. Eventually, I'd discovered a system of sorts for doing it, which was rubbing a thumb across the star-shaped birthmark on my left hand while concentrating on imagery of my physical body kind of floating away and disappearing.
The first moment my new "magic trick" had actually worked and I'd suddenly become invisible, Katie had gasped and then fallen right on her rear.
However, the funny thing about this trick was that I wasn't actually invisible. At least, not to myself. While "invisible," I could still see every single detail of my body, skin, and everything else, just like normal. It seemed that the "trick" was that other people couldn't see me. That's how I became invisible. And the only thing that told me if I still was or not, other than the looks on people's faces, was that the star on my hand lightened to the point of almost becoming invisible itself.
Though the whole thing was kind of fun and neat, I didn't see myself becoming invisible often, as doing so gave me an excruciating headache afterward each time. But I figured this new ability would come in very handy if I were ever again faced with a snarling shifter wolf and needed to "hide." Katie and I even wondered if this was what the gift had been intended for; we wondered if whatever sorcerer or sorceress that had prophesied the women of the star in the first place had done some sort of spell to give them a gift of protection against the wolves who'd be so eager to mate with them.
At any rate, Damien had been right. I could have done my new trick to avoid him if that's what I'd really wanted to do. If I'd really wanted to avoid him, I could have risked another headache. But I hadn't. It hadn't even crossed my mind to become invisible when he'd approached.
I made a little scoffing noise. "Well, I didn't do my new magic trick when I saw you, because as I'm sure Katie or someone else has told you, becoming invisible gives me a very bad headache afterward. So, I didn't even consider it."
Damien cocked a dark eyebrow at me. "You sure? You sure that's why you didn't even consider it? Or, do you think it's possible you didn't even consider it because deep down, you wanted to see me. Your heart wants to get closer to me, even if your logical mind is telling you not to."
I didn't know what to say. The feel of Damien's large, strong hands on my shoulders was really jumbling my thoughts.
I made a feeble little scoffing noise again. "Why do you have to be so...."
I couldn't even finish the thought. Because the only word I could think of to finish it with was sexy.
Becoming even sexier, Damien gave me a half-grin that turned my insides to jelly. "Have dinner with me tonight, Daisy. You and me, at my cabin. I'll cook. Please...spare me the awkwardness of another silent dinner with Miss Quackers. She's just not a very interesting conversationalist. So, what do you say?"
My mind was saying that dinner sounded like a very dangerous idea, because I knew exactly what the two of us being alone, indoors, and out of view of anyone else could lead to. And I wasn't sure I'd be able to resist. In fact, I was fairly sure I wouldn't be able to.
And yet, seeming to move of its own accord, my head dipped in a tiny nod.
Damien grinned even bigger and gave my shoulders a squeeze and a brief caress. "Good. Perfect. I'll come by again around eight and walk you back down the lane to my place. And I'll be counting down the minutes until then."
Making butterflies riot in my stomach, he planted a tender kiss on my cheek, letting his lips linger, before turning and stepping down the porch steps. The spot of skin on my cheek where his lips had been tingled, and I watched him while he began striding down the lane with a little smile on his face.
After a few paces, he glanced back at me, grinning, his dark hair glinting in the sun. "Glad I'm not leaving wearing a mum planter for a hat!"
I couldn't imagine ever seriously dumping a planter over his head. Because at that moment, all I could think about was kissing him while he pulled me close.
*
It turned out that Damien wasn't exactly an experienced cook. The roasted chicken he'd made was tough and slightly burned, the mashed potatoes were lumpy, and the vegetables were just barely warm and as crisp as if they'd just come out of the garden. He'd also made rolls that were charred on the outside and raw dough on the inside. But I could tell he'd made a real effort, and not just with the food. He'd set the table in his spacious oak-paneled dining room with a crisp, cream-colored tablecloth, bone china, a vase of wildflowers, and tall white taper candles in polished silver holders. He'd also presented me with a bouquet of wildflowers tied with a red ribbon when he'd come to get me from the guest cabin, melting my heart.
After we'd been eating quietly for a while, with the clinking of our silverware and the crackling of a fire in the dining room fireplace the only sounds, he looked up at me, his expression clearly a bit anxious. "Is it all...okay? I mean...I know I'm probably not the very best chef in the world, but...is it all right?"
Being that he wasn't normally one to show any signs of vulnerability or insecurity at all, his expression had the effect of melting my heart even further for some reason.
I set my fork down and looked at him, smiling. "It's all perfect. Thank you. You did a really good job on the potatoes, especially."
Lumps aside, they were seasoned well and were deliciously buttery.
Damien smiled in return, revealing his straight, white teeth. "Good. This was my first time ever cooking for a woman before, and I was maybe just a bit out of my element."
I stared at him in disbelief. "Seriously? You've never cooked for a woman before? With your reputation as a serial dater, I have to admit, this surprises me a little."
He shrugged, his full, delectable mouth twitching with a grin. "Never dated a woman I was that concerned about impressing before. Not until I met you."
I gave him a little smile, then took a sip of white wine and set the glass back on the table, suddenly curious about something. "Why? I mean...why are you in love with me? Why do you want to be with me? Is it just because you always seem to want what Nick has, or...or what? Is it just physical attraction? What exactly is it?"
Damien set his own wineglass on the table, golden candlelight reflected in his dark gray eyes. "Am I physically attracted to you? Yes. A thousand, million, trillion times yes."
He paused, sliding his gaze from my face down to my shoulders and chest. I'd worn a scoop-necked red dress that evening, which left the bare skin of my throat and upper chest exposed, and he seemed to feast on every inch of it before sliding his gaze back up to my face and continuing.
“I’m physically attracted to you on a level that I've never been attracted to any other woman before, ever. But that's not why I've fallen in love with you. That's not why I've loved you probably since the very first day we met. What I fell in love with before your body was your heart. Sure, when I first saw you, my eyes just about bugged out of my head because of your looks...but then I learned why you'd left the walls of your town.
“I learned that you were risking your own life to help a little boy you weren't even related to. And that's when I started falling not just in lust with you, but in love. I started falling in love with your heart. And that love has nothing at all to do with wanting something just because it's my brother's. That's just been an annoying irritation to me in all this...that you've been his. But I'd love you regardless."
My pulse accelerated while I looked at his handsome, strong-jawed face.
He paused, dropping his gaze to his plate briefly before returning it to my face, knitting his dark brows together. "My one regret is agreeing to take the herbs back to the little boy that first day, while Nick brought you here. I basically allowed him to win your heart first. I should have fought it, done something different. I should have insisted that we all take the herbs back together. I should have done something. Anything to ensure that you'd get to know both of us first before falling in love with anyone." He paused again, his dark gray eyes positively radiating regret.
"But...we can't go back, can we? Now all we can do is go forward. And now that you're officially not with Nick any longer, maybe I have a chance to show you just how I feel. Maybe I have a chance to show you just how deeply I care about you. How deeply I absolutely adore you. Maybe I can make you start to understand."
I was starting to understand. And I was starting to care about him more and more the longer he spoke.
But just then, before I could respond, the oven timer dinged out in the kitchen. And I noticed that the air held the scent of a faint trace of smoke.
Groaning, Damien took his napkin off his lap and set it on the table. "The apple crisp. And because of the way it's smelling, let's hope it's not burned to a crisp. Be right back."
He went out to the kitchen and soon returned with a pan in one hand and a bowl of whipped cream in the other. He set both items on the table, and I saw that the crisp was indeed burned. The crumbly oat topping was blackened in several spots.
He gave me a sheepish grin. "Sorry. My first try at any kind of a dessert."
With my heart as soft as a dollop of whipped cream, I gave him a little smile in return. "It's okay. I bet the apples on the bottom layer are still just fine."
While the crisp cooled on the table, we finished our meal, talking about "safe" subjects, like my work on the museum, the fall harvest going on in the orchards, and a few other things of a similar vein. Which was fine with me, because while Damien had been talking about how much he cared about me and adored me, I'd begun to wonder if he was going to try to kiss me at any point in the evening, and if so, how it would feel. And I wasn't sure if I wanted him to kiss me. Or, rather, I was sure, on a physical level, anyway. On a physical level, I wanted him to not only kiss me, but also do much, much more.
But at the same time, my brain was telling me to avoid this at all costs. Things between me and Nick were already complicated enough, and I was sure that a night of physical intimacy with Damien would only complicate a reconciliation, if not make it outright impossible.
However, the teeny-tiniest of little voices in the back of my mind was asking me if a reconciliation with Nick was even what I wanted with certainty anymore. Horrified, I slugged back the rest of my wine, willing the teeny-tiny little voice to shut up.
Earlier, when I'd been dressing for dinner with Katie at my house, I'd promised myself that I'd have dinner with Damien and explore a possible deepening of our friendship, but without having any physical contact with him, not even a brief kiss. I'd even told Katie about this promise, hoping that saying it out loud to her would make me feel more accountable.
She'd said that it sounded like I was playing a dangerous game, but I'd told her I knew what I was doing. "I'm more than capable of resisting temptation," I'd said.
But now I wasn't so sure. I wasn't sure at all. And after we'd finished our meal, when Damien moved his chair from across the table to right beside me, I became even less sure.
He scooped out some unburned apple crisp onto two dessert plates, topped it with whipped cream, and handed my plate to me with his mouth curving in the hint of a smile. "Something sweet for someone sweet."
He suddenly gave his head a shake, sighing. "Just listen to me. Just listen to what you've done to me, Daisy...who you've turned me into. 'Something sweet for someone sweet.' I don't think I've ever said a goofy-sounding line like that in my life.
“Sarcastic goofy, maybe. Goofy goofy, maybe. But love goofy like that? No. Before I met you, I would have never even dreamed about saying something so asinine."
I shook my head, amused. "I didn't think it was asinine. I just thought it was sweet. And I liked it." Feeling myself beginning to get lost in the danger zone of his dark gray eyes, I suddenly decided to change the subject and turned my focus to my plate of apple crisp. "Anyway, now let's see how good you are at making desserts."
It turned out that he wasn't half-bad. The unburned part of the crisp was cinnamony and sweet, but not too sweet. While we enjoyed it, we stuck to talking about "safe" subjects once again. Though with Damien now sitting right beside me, I couldn't help but catch a hint of his heavenly, woodsy, masculine scent every so often, which made me completely lose my train of thought each time. I also couldn't help but notice the close proximity of his long, muscular thighs to my own legs. Which made me start thinking about how his long, muscular thighs might feel entwined with my legs. Like while we were making love. Like while he was thrusting his manhood in and out of me while I moaned with pleasure.
Realizing I was getting way too carried away with my thoughts, the moment we finished dessert, I told Damien that I should be getting back home.
"And since the guest cabin is just a little ways down the lane, you don't even have to walk me; I'll be just fine on my own."
Seeming to completely ignore me, he suddenly dipped a finger in the bowl of whipped cream and spread a little dollop on my lower lip. "You have something on your mouth."
Before I could even react, he then leaned in and kissed me, flicking his tongue over the sweet cream on my lower lip. Immediately, I sighed with pleasure, the movement of his tongue on my mouth already causing a distinct tingling in the area between my thighs. And once he'd flicked away all the whipped cream and intensified the kiss, essentially claiming my mouth, that tingling sensation intensified, as well.
Without even thinking, I wrapped an arm around his strong shoulders, pulling him closer to me. And soon I was completely lost in his scent, the feel of his arm around me, and the feel of his warm, firm mouth on mine.
We kissed for a while before he pulled me onto his lap in one swift, smooth movement, displaying his shifter strength. He only broke our kiss for a moment while he did so. It was also only a quick moment or two before I became aware that I was sitting on something long, thick, and rock-hard protruding from his lap. While we continued kissing, I moaned into his mouth, developing a frustrating dull ache low in my belly. And soon, I couldn't help but squirm a little against the rod I was sitting on, making Damien groan.
But within seconds, when he slid a hand beneath my dress, gripped my hip, and then began toying with the side of my lacy underwear, seeming as if he were about to pull them down and go exploring, I suddenly realized how close we were getting to the point of no return. Which wasn't a place I wanted to let myself go.
And so, using every last shred of my willpower, I broke the kiss and looked at Damien's candlelit face, panting. "We can't do this. I wasn't even supposed to let myself kiss you. I promised myself that I wouldn't."
His eyes were glassy, and when he spoke, his voice was low and husky.
"Then tell me to stop. Just say no, or tell me to stop, and I will, immediately. Just say you don't want me to kiss you anymore. Just say you've had enough."
I opened my mouth to say just that, but to my dismay, I found that I just couldn't get the words out. Because I realized that I didn't want him to stop kissing me. And there was just no way I could say otherwise. But this realization didn't make me happy. I hated that he was so irresistible.
"You're...you're the devil, Damien."
"Hm, that's funny, because Miss Quackers always says I'm something like a god-like king."
I huffed, unable to stop myself from running a hand over the hard ridges of his back even while I did so. "Maybe a cruel, tempting king."
He moved his mouth to my ear and spoke in a gravelly near-whisper. "I think you like it. I think you really like it, even, and I think you might enjoy being tempted and teased a little further."
"No, I wouldn't."
"Is that a fact? Then, let's start kissing again, and I'll tease you a little further, and then we'll take a little pause, and I'll ask you if you like or dislike my teasing. If you say dislike, I'll give you my solemn word that I'll never make any attempts to tease you ever again. I'll even agree to wear handcuffs around you at all times in the future so that I can't ever tease you again."
I somehow doubted he'd actually do that. But I also doubted that I'd ever be able to tell him that I disliked his teasing in the first place. His touch felt too good. Being on his lap, in his arms, felt too good. And I suspected his continued teasing would feel too good, too.
I suddenly sprang up from his lap and onto my feet. "I have to go now. I have to go. I'm walking home. Don't follow me."
I began heading out of the dining room, but in a flash, he caught me by the arm and turned me to face him.
"Not so fast. I don't like it, but I respect your choice to leave. However, I can't let you walk home alone. Even with the guards encircling the town, it's too dangerous. Wolves can slip right past guards, as you know. And so, because of this, I'm going to accompany you home. And you don't have a choice about this."
I sniffed, rankled at being told I didn't have a choice. "Well, I say I do, because that's ridiculous. I'm a grown woman; my cabin is only a short distance away, and-"
"Daisy, I'm telling you that you don't have a choice. I can't let myself just sit back while you put yourself in a situation where you might be harmed. And in fact, I'm a little appalled that Nick doesn't have a round-the-clock security detail on your cabin, and maybe even on you yourself, at least until Ezra is dealt with."
"Maybe that's just indicative that Nick trusts me to take care of myself."
"Or maybe that's just indicative that your safety is a higher priority to me than it is to him. But regardless, I'm escorting you home. By the hand, if need be."
"Well, I refuse to be escorted. I refuse! I refuse to let myself continue to be near your eyes, and your face, and your hands, and your...." A little breathless, I didn't finish the thought. "I refuse!"
"Well, that's your choice, but I've made my choice as well, and my choice is to keep you safe. So, I'm going to escort you home. And just so you know, if you try to flee from me, I'm going to literally scoop you up and throw you over my shoulder."
I gasped. "You wouldn't dare!"
"It's not a dare, Daisy; it's a promise of what will happen."
I gasped again, wrenching my arm free from his grasp. "Well, here's a promise for you! I promise that I'm getting away from you and your eyes right now!"
I ran through the dining room and kitchen, flung open the front door of the cabin, and dashed out into the starry night. I knew I wasn't being fair, kind, or rational. I knew I was probably acting like an immature brat. But I knew I had to at least make an attempt to get away from Damien, and fast. Or else I'd soon be making love to him, I was certain. And I didn't want to do that. Though my reasoning for that was becoming harder and harder to recall.
To my surprise and relief, Damien didn't chase me. But knowing that he still might, and knowing that he'd expect me to take the lane home, I ran around to the back of the cabin and cut into the woods. Once I got a short distance away, running parallel to the cabin, I glanced behind me and didn't see him.
With a satisfied chuckle, I continued on through the moonlit woods, which were filled with the crisp autumn scent of fallen leaves. But the high heels I was running in weren't making my task very easy, and soon, I tripped on what felt like a fallen tree branch. I stumbled, somehow turning in the air, and fell on my rear. And that's when I saw a dark figure heading toward me.