CHAPTER THIRTEEN
GIVEN THE EVENTS of last night, Damian didn’t want to heap his personal problems on Lainey. Because that would take them squarely away from casual sex and into...not-so-casual sex. Either that or he was still so ashamed about the divorce that he couldn’t bear to talk to anyone about it. Not even her. His family and Aaron knew what’d happened, but they’d all been sworn to secrecy.
It was his business. His private shame that he hadn’t been able to keep his wife happy.
“So you sold the apartment because you think you haven’t gotten over the divorce?” she pressed as they exited the café.
“Well, it was never going to be my place,” he said, slipping on a pair of sunglasses to shield himself from Lainey’s intense stare. “No matter how much time passed, I could still feel her there.”
“And you want to move on?” She looked at him with earnest eyes, glimmering with hope. That was exactly what he didn’t want from her.
He knew Lainey had a crush on him when they were growing up, because she was as subtle as a sledgehammer. Problem was, as time went on, he grew more and more attracted to the chaotic girl with the heart of gold. It pained him to admit, but she’d been in and out of his fantasies since his divorce.
He shoved the conflict aside, making a silent promise that it would be a single indiscretion. An isolated incident—well, except for the night of the ball, since that time had been out of his control—and that he would send her home...later.
“I’m ready to move on, yes.” He paused. “But I’m past that whole fairy-tale bullshit thing now. Moving on does not mean looking for someone else to marry.”
She considered that for a moment, her head bobbing slowly. He wondered if she might want further details. And he was ready to shut her down if she did.
“Sounds like you made the right decision to move...but a hotel? Really?” She frowned, her brows crinkling. “That’s not a home. You don’t even have a proper kitchen.”
“I want to find the right place, and I’m not going to rush things this time.” With the apartment or with a woman. “And the hotel owner is a client.”
Trees lined the patch of greenery that ran parallel to the river. Chairs dotted the edge, most of them occupied by couples and families enjoying the summer warmth. Arm in arm, Damian and Lainey would have looked like any other couple. Their footsteps dropped in perfect unison, a synchronicity that only developed after years of being around one another.
“I can help you move on, you know.” Her voice turned coy, a sly smile spreading across her lips. “I want to help.”
“I don’t need your help.” Against his better judgement, he reached out and touched her hair; the long red waves looked as though they belonged on a mermaid. On a mythical creature. Not on this crazy, impulsive woman.
“But you might want my help.” She stepped closer.
“I don’t.” The words stuck, and Damian had to force them out. “Want” was too high up in his vocabulary when it came to Lainey.
“Why are you so uptight?” she asked, tilting her head. A cool breeze swept past and ruffled her hair, sending the vibrant waves across her shoulders. “What are you trying so hard to repress that you’ve turned into this...”
“Curmudgeon?” he offered.
“I don’t even know what that is, but it sounds about right.” She threw her hands in the air and huffed.
“It means killjoy.”
“Yes, killjoy. That’s exactly the word I was looking for.” She grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him. “I am going to make you have some fun.”
He wrapped his hands around her wrists and lowered them, hanging on to her for a moment longer than necessary.
“Why don’t we find you an apartment?” she said.
Now, that wasn’t a bad idea. A few property inspections would keep them away from his hotel room, and talking about kitchen layouts was a hell of a lot easier than talking about his divorce...or why Lainey was such a risk to him.
“Fine, apartment hunting it is.”
Half an hour later they were following a brisk-mannered real estate agent into a penthouse apartment in Southbank. Turned out she was a huge fan of Australia’s Most Eligible and the name Damian McKnight meant she dropped her other appointments quicker than a hot potato.
“This apartment was previously owned by a CEO who lived in Sydney and needed a base in Melbourne,” the agent said as she held the door open for them. “As you can see, it looks brand-new.”
“It would have to be for three million,” Damian said under his breath.
Lainey stifled a smile, standing close to him as he inspected the kitchen fittings. Marble benchtops gleamed as sunlight poured in from floor-to-ceiling windows. The kitchen was sizable, and all the fittings looked as though they’d never been used. He could correct that.
“Couldn’t you see us in this kitchen, Damian?” Lainey asked, loud enough so the agent could hear.
Her hazel eyes sparkled with mischief, hands knotted in front of her as she beamed at him. He shot her a look. What the hell did she think she was doing?
“We could make such a mess in this great big space.” She smiled at the agent, wrapping an arm around Damian and giving him an affectionate squeeze. “You know, I do most of the cooking at home.”
The agent arched a brow, her gaze sweeping over Lainey as one might inspect something on the bottom of their shoe. Lainey’s dress left miles of long, creamy leg on display, and her smudgy, sexy eye makeup was more suited to midnight than midday, but that didn’t give anyone the right to judge her.
“I’m sure you’ll find all the fittings here to be of the highest quality, Mr. McKnight,” the agent said, continuing to move through the room. “It would be a shame for a man like you to waste your money on something not up to standard.”
He didn’t miss the quick flick of the agent’s eyes toward Lainey. Luckily, she was too busy trailing her hand along the edge of the marble countertop and looking out at the view to take notice. Damian’s jaw clenched.
“I make it a point never to waste my time on things that don’t meet my standards. My fiancée knows I have very particular tastes.”
Lainey’s head shot up and she grinned at him. “Yes, dear. You are very particular.”
The agent looked at him in disbelief, her mouth popping open for a second before she snapped it shut and walked toward the lounge room. “The living area is open plan, as you can see, but there is an additional space for recreation. If you follow me through here...”
“Recreation, hmm?” Lainey tugged him after the agent. “That’s very important. We should make sure it will fit all our recreation...equipment.”
Damian stifled a laugh. The agent’s face had turned the deep shade of a tomato, and she scurried along in her heels, changing direction and gesturing for them to follow her to the bathroom. He knew it was wrong to pay the agent back for being a bitch...but it had been so long since he’d had any fun.
It was true. All work and no play had made him a very dull man indeed.
“You can see the bathroom is very generous. There’s a double shower and a deep tub. The towel racks are heated. You can control them with the switches here,” she babbled, unable to look either of them in the eye.
“Double shower would be great,” Lainey said in mock seriousness. “The last thing we want is to break the glass like we did at that holiday house.”
Damian smothered his laughter with a cough. “Yes, that was rather expensive.”
“We had fun, though, didn’t we?” She walked past him and brushed her hand brazenly along his crotch.
Unfortunately for Damian, while the words were joking, her touch had a very real effect on him. As she wandered out of the bathroom, she shook her hair out so that it tumbled unrestrained down her back, and his pants tightened considerably. That merest touch, a graze of her fingertips, had made him rock hard in an instant.
He followed Lainey into the master bedroom, watching her walk. The hem of her dress was borderline indecent, but she had such fantastic legs it would have been a crime for them to be hidden away. He was thrust into a memory. Last night. His lips on her, those smooth, perfect thighs parted for him. Only him.
“Is this a king-size bed?” Lainey asked the agent, who looked more than a little annoyed that she’d ended up dealing with his fiancée.
“Of course it is, ma’am.” The agent nodded stiffly.
“Please, don’t call me ma’am,” Lainey replied with a saccharine smile. “I’m way too young for that.”
If Damian had a drink he would have choked on it. Perhaps his earlier assumption that Lainey hadn’t noticed the older woman’s attitude toward her was incorrect. She seemed to be enjoying herself far too much.
Stop it, he mouthed at her.
As the agent made her way into the enormous walk-in closet, Damian grabbed Lainey by the arm. He brought his lips close enough to her ear that he brushed her earlobe as he spoke. “If there’s a report on some gossip site tomorrow that I enjoy dating young women, I’m going to blame you.”
She laughed, the deep, throaty sound sending whatever blood was left in his brain straight down to his cock. Turning her head, she batted her eyelashes at him. The bronzy smudges of makeup around her pale eyes wound him up even more. He wanted those eyes looking up at him while he drove into her mouth. He wanted to see her blink as he pressed between those lips. Pushing as far as he could, seeing how much she could take.
Stop that shit. Right. Now.
“I haven’t even told her how you like me to dress up as a schoolgirl yet,” she teased.
“Liar.” He squeezed her arm, pulling her tight against him. “Don’t. You. Dare.”
“Or what?” She blinked at him. “You’ll punish me?”
He wanted to press her up against the bedroom wall and kiss her until her knees gave out. “Don’t tempt me.”
She stepped out of his grip, following the agent into the closet. Bending forward, she pretended to inspect the finish of the built-in shelving. Her hem rose higher, inching toward the pleasures that lay beneath. Knowing there was nothing to cover her under the dress was bad enough. Waiting to see if he’d catch a glimpse was pure torture. He turned, facing the endless stretch of glass that revealed Melbourne’s skyline and adjusted himself. His cock strained against his jeans, and he had nothing with which to hide himself. Nothing to conceal that Lainey had far more of a hold over him than he wanted.
Her laughter rang in his ears as she materialised beside him. Up close, the smell of his soap on her skin stoked his desire. The heat of her body pressing gently against his tested his barriers.
“Enjoying the view?” she asked.
“It is a fantastic one,” the agent chimed in. “People pay a lot for a view like this.”
Lainey cupped her hand over her mouth, trying not to laugh. Damian watched her from the corner of his eye. Pink had spread across her cheeks, her red-lacquered nails shimmering against porcelain skin.
“I do appreciate the view,” he said, not daring to look at her directly.
“Can’t you imagine waking up to it every morning? Going to sleep with it every night.” Lainey pressed on, linking her arm through his. “Watching the moon.”
He snorted and tried it cover it with another cough. He needed to get out. The longer he imagined what it would be like to see Lainey standing stark naked against the window, the creamy flesh of her backside presented for him, the harder it was going to be to compose himself.
“So what do you say, Damian? Do you want to pay for the view?” Her hand squeezed his bicep.
“I need to think about it.” He nodded at the agent. “Thanks for showing us around. We have to talk before we can make a decision.”
“There are several other properties I could show you.” The agent hurried over to him, plucking a business card from a fancy silver holder in her leather notebook. “We could make a time—”
“I’ll get in contact if I’m interested in seeing more.” He cut off her sales pitch and made his way to the front door, Lainey in tow.
“Oh, you’re interested,” Lainey whispered as they left the apartment and headed toward the elevator. “I can tell.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Apart from the fact that your jeans look a little...snug?”
“A little?”
She laughed. “A lot.”
By the time they made it out to the street, Damian had managed to calm himself down. Okay, so he was attracted to Lainey. He knew that already. She was fun, hot and confident. What wasn’t to like? Any guy would have the same reaction.
It wasn’t a big deal. He’d simply sit her down when they got back to his hotel and tell her that he cared about her too much to have her as anything but a friend. He’d made a mistake, but he wouldn’t let it get between them. In the meantime, he had to deal with this crazy, pent-up sexual frustration. But screwing his way out of it wasn’t going to work...that much was damn clear.
“It’s boiling,” Lainey moaned as they wandered back to the river. She fanned herself with one hand. “Let’s get ice cream.”
“You haven’t had lunch yet.”
“Thanks for the nutritional lecture, Dad.” She swatted him. “I can have ice cream for lunch if I want.”
He shrugged. Ice cream actually sounded like the perfect antidote to his overheated state. They strolled along the tree-lined boulevard as he tried to settle his mind. Everything about this situation screamed potential disaster, but he couldn’t force himself to put an end to it.
Does it matter? She’s leaving the country soon. You have an end date.
But that was the thing with Lainey—she never played by the rules. Never stuck to the plan. He needed her to know why he couldn’t engage in anything serious.
Perhaps he should tell her the truth about his divorce. Then she might understand his actions better.
Even thinking about it brought heat to his face that made his skin prickle and his chest feel tight. It’d been four years, and still the shame burned as brightly as it had the day he’d caught Jenny and Ben. All he’d ever wanted was for his marriage to fulfil him and his wife, and he had believed that Jenny wanted that, too. Unfortunately, when tested, it was clear that what Jenny had really wanted was for him to sacrifice his career ambitions to spend more time with her...or else she’d get revenge.
The sun beat down on them as they walked. Lainey had ditched the white shirt again, and perspiration beaded along her bare arms and her chest. The dress clung to her like a second skin.
“Why so serious?” Lainey asked, tilting her head up to him and shielding her eyes.
“I was thinking about the apartment,” he lied, fishing his sunglasses out of his pocket and handing them to Lainey.
She slipped them on, the large mirror-like lenses obscuring her eyes. “Why were you frowning, then?”
“It’s a big decision.” He spotted a café with an ice cream counter up ahead. “I’m weighing up my options.”
“What are your must-haves? The things that you absolutely won’t compromise on.”
“You mean aside from a great view?” He smirked. “Space for a big desk, a bigger bedroom.”
“What else?”
“Somewhere to relax and zone out. A place where I can think.”
Lainey shook her head. “You think too much.”
“I thought we were talking about the apartment.” They joined the long, snaking line for ice cream.
“We are, but the apartment is a representation of you.” Lainey pushed the sunglasses on top of her head.
“How so?”
“You want a big desk because you’re ambitious and your business is a huge part of your life. You want a big bedroom because you have a lot of shit to deal with and you need somewhere to be yourself.”
His shoulders rose, fingers balled into fists by his side. “What does the bedroom have to do with being myself?”
“Because you hide things when you’re out in the world. When you’re at home, it’s just you. You can stop pretending.” She smiled. “Maybe that’s why you moved into a hotel without finding a new place first. You know you don’t want to be who you were with Jenny, but you haven’t figured out what the next step looks like.”
He gaped at her, unsure whether to laugh off her comments or immediately drag her back to his hotel room. Perhaps he too was guilty of underestimating Lainey; she obviously saw deep into him. She knew him far better than his ex-wife ever did.
“You really do say some insightful shit.”
She grinned. “I sure do.”
As they approached the ice cream counter, Lainey’s attention locked firmly on the rainbow selection of treats. She tapped a finger to her lip.
“What flavour are you having, Damian? I’m buying.”
“No, you’re not.” He pulled out his wallet, but she slapped his hand.
“I said I’m buying. You paid for this ridiculous dress and left the tags on. So I know you should be broke by now.” She winked at him.
“Vanilla bean,” he replied. “Single scoop.”
Lainey turned to the woman behind the counter. “I’ll have two waffle cones, single scoops. One rocky road and one caramel crunch.”
“No vanilla then?” Why did she even bother asking?
“You’re not a vanilla guy, Damian. I know that much.”
“Does this mean we’re done with the amateur psychology hour?” he asked drily, accepting the two cones from the woman behind the counter as Lainey paid. “Which one do you want?”
They walked away from the café, and she contemplated her options before plucking the caramel cone from him. Her tongued darted out to capture the ice cream and she sighed. “So. Damn. Good.”
* * *
Lainey and Damian walked along Southbank, past the busker in the Super Mario costume playing guitar and the chalk artist drawing people’s faces on the ground. They ate in silence, mouths working quickly before the sun melted the ice cream onto their hands.
Damian tucked in to his rocky road with enthusiasm. And he’d wanted vanilla? She smiled to herself, remembering the way he’d hardened when she’d touched him during the apartment inspection. Vanilla was for guys with unsteady hands and fumbling fingers, and Damian wasn’t one of those guys.
They came to a stop at a bench that overlooked the aging beauty of the Flinders Street station. It rose up, magnificent and unusual among the sleeker office towers in Melbourne’s skyline. The old building had character. Though weathered, it held a certain charm in its mustard-coloured facade and iconic green dome. There was beauty in its age and history, the scars of decades making it even lovelier than it would have been when brand-new.
“Are you shocked that I know you so well?” Lainey asked, still looking out over the water.
“You don’t know me as well as you think. One accurate psychoanalysis doesn’t change that.”
“But you do hide from the world,” she pressed.
She had an inkling that he covered up his true self for the same reason she relied on zany antics and a crap ton of eyeliner—for fear that people wouldn’t like what was underneath. She fought against a memory of being dumped because she’d dropped out of school.
Not like she had a choice. School had been slowly stifling her—trying to stuff her into a box that was too small and too dark. She couldn’t seem to follow the rules that were designed for kids with long attention spans and the ability to make sense of numbers. Lainey’s skills lay in areas that weren’t marked on paper.
Nowhere in the curriculum had she been praised for her ability to defuse a tense situation or cheer someone up. The fact that she could instinctively tell what colours would look good on people meant nothing. Not even in art class could her creativity flourish because, even there, the rules had stifled her.
After that, she’d learned to be someone else. She wore short skirts and acted out. She attracted guys who didn’t care that she still counted on her fingers, guys who were only after one thing. All so she could call the shots. So she never again had to face the humiliation of being dumped because she wasn’t good enough for the longterm.
“It’s something I have to do,” he replied, concentrating on his ice cream. It was torture watching his tongue and lips devour the treat with surgical efficiency.
“Why?”
He shook his head, and a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Things have happened that make me wary of putting myself out there.”
“I haven’t done anything to criticise the way you are.”
“Other than calling me boring or stodgy, you mean?” He took a bite out of his waffle cone. “What about that one time you said I was the Antichrist of fun?”
Lainey’s cheeks burned. “Okay, so maybe I said those things. But it’s because...”
“I’m no fun?”
“You are when you allow yourself a little breathing space.” She shrugged. “You always act like it’s your job to protect everyone around you.”
“It is,” he said without hesitation.
“No, it’s not. I appreciate all the times you’ve bailed me out, I really do.” Lainey finished off her ice cream and put her hand on Damian’s knee. “But you need to stop worrying about everyone else and start worrying about yourself. Or else you’ll be a...what did you call yourself?”
“A curmudgeon?”
“Yeah, that.”
“I’m never going to stop worrying about you.” He turned and Lainey got the full force of his Blue Steel stare.
Could he see right into her soul? Did he know that she was a woman who wanted to run away from her life? Away from the fear that she would forever be in one-sided love with him?
The feeling slammed her in the chest with the force of a freight truck. Sure, she’d thought it so many times before—that she had a thing for Damian. An insatiable, unending schoolgirl crush on her best friend’s handsome older brother. Harmless...until it wasn’t.
Love. How was it possible to love someone who didn’t love you back? It was cruel that humans had been designed that way. She tugged on the hem of her dress, paranoid that her fear and devastation were shining out of her.
“You don’t need to cover it up, Lainey. I saw it all last night.” His words hitched, his voice rough and ragged around the edges.
Was he referring to her body or to the unwieldy mix of terror and desire warring inside her?
She swallowed, her hand lifting to cup the side of his face. A light stubble showed along his jaw, and her thumb swiped against his lip to capture a tiny smear of chocolate. The only movement he made was the quickening of his breath, hot against her hand. He kissed the pad of her thumb, then caught her hand and pressed his lips to the inside of her wrist.
Darkness engulfed his eyes, grey irises shrinking until there was nothing but a mere rim of it around two bottomless black holes. “I hide because I’m afraid that I might hurt you.”
Lainey puffed out her chest, chin tilted up to him. “I won’t let you hurt me.”
She wouldn’t. Couldn’t. Because if she allowed him to crash through the careful fence she’d set up around this encounter, he’d railroad her heart until it broke for good. This was just sex—fulfilment of a fantasy. And that was all it could ever be.