I felt his breath on my face and his mouth was almost touching mine when we heard the sound of chopper blades slashing through the quiet of the night. A helicopter was landing, the invasion destroying the special moment between us.
Damien got up off the bed and strolled over to the window.
I raised my head off the pillow. “Who is it?”
He moved back to the bed and freed me from the red silken ties.
“Stay here.” He left the bedroom.
Rising from the bed, my thighs sticky, I tugged down my gown and padded barefoot over to the window, making sure my bodice covered my breasts.
Peeking out, I focused on the helicopter that had just landed on the front lawn. Damien hadn’t mentioned that anyone would be joining us.
A man leaned low as he ran away from the chopper, but then straightened, standing tall as he approached the house. He was extraordinarily good-looking with aristocratic dark features that made him look like he’d materialized from a different century.
I knew him.
We’d never been formally introduced but I’d seen Theo Tamer at political functions, watching the dashing political strategist from afar. The thirty-something man who worked for Senator Gregor Godman had always been courteous to my father.
My shoulders slumped with the disappointing thought I might have to spend the rest of the evening talking about the campaign.
Theo was dressed in a black tuxedo, having attended the same event as us earlier.
Perhaps an introduction to me would soften the harshness of his expression, cause him to smile.
I traced him in the glass. And then my stomach clenched in panic.
He was looking up, transfixed on me.
His expression was one of intrigue at first, and then it morphed into something that looked an awful lot like contempt. He snapped his attention away and headed into the house.
I left the window and sat back down on the bed, waiting for Damien to return. I was reluctant to be beckoned to join them—for the evening to turn sour. This visitor had ruined what was meant to be our private time.
Half an hour went by, though it could have been longer. I had lain down and curled up into a ball, my body responding to Damien’s touch as though it still echoed with rippling pleasure, hips rocking as I yearned for more.
I sat up quickly when I heard footfalls on the stairs.
Damien appeared in the doorway.
I pushed up. “Is he staying?”
“I’m taking you home.”
“Back to your place?”
“No, your parents’ house.”
I climbed off the bed and slipped into my high heels, all the while trying to read his expression. “What happened?”
“I’m needed back in the city.” He paused in the doorway and his eyes flashed over the bed.
“I thought we were staying all weekend.” Hugging my chest, I willed myself not to glance back at the bed where all of those delectable sensations had flowed. A thrum still rippled through me.
He led me downstairs and through the kitchen, snagging his black jacket off the barstool as we went. I looked around for Theo, but he’d gone to wait for us in the helicopter.
Damien reached into his jacket pocket and handed me my phone back. “No sharing with anyone what happened here, understand? And certainly not on social media.”
“I know.”
“I’m just making sure you know.”
The kitchen had been tidied—the plate of cheese and crackers and the two champagne glasses, and even the makeshift ashtray, were now gone.
All evidence of us being here had been eradicated.
I’d wanted to be free of him.
But even though I reminded myself of this fact while sitting near the bottom of the staircase in my parents’ home, I felt a twinge of disappointment that our weekend away wasn’t happening. Damien had dropped me off ten minutes ago, along with my unpacked suitcase—unceremoniously dumping me back to square one.
Back to this palatial home on Chain Bridge Road. Though not as impressive as our estate back in Texas, it had a library, a wine cellar, and a media space. There were more than enough rooms to get lost in and enough life within the walls to keep a staff of five busy.
Not wanting to accept that our weekend had been cut short, I remained sitting in the dark, not wanting to take that walk of shame up the stairs to my bedroom. I should be tired—it was 2:00 A.M.—but the way I’d been hurried out of Seascape had filled me with trepidation and I was too anxious to sleep.
I had never gotten used to these large houses and their strange noises; having spent so many years sleeping in private school dorms.
My parents were undoubtedly in bed. No doubt they’d be surprised to see me at breakfast in the morning.
Just thinking of Theo interrupting our intimate evening made me cringe. When I’d climbed into the back of the helicopter, I’d not been able to look him in the eyes, fearing he’d guessed what we’d been doing. Since he and Damien shared a place in the city, I was certain they knew each other well enough to talk about such things.
I’d fallen asleep in the helicopter with my head resting on Damien’s shoulder. The fact he’d let me stay so close to him felt like a small victory.
I expected the month leading up to the election would be strained, but I’d not foreseen this level of chaos, or that it would encroach on my life to this extent.
My fingers trailed along my forearm in a self-soothing gesture, as I tried to mimic how I’d been caressed so seductively in that lofty hideaway.
Damien was devastatingly charismatic. Time with him was never boring, which was probably why I was already missing him. My hands cupped my still sensitive breasts, my body tingling all over as I thought about what Damien had done to me…the memory of that blinding orgasm making me shudder.
Seeing his steely armor relax a little had me liking him all over again.
Damien could easily be invited into the center of my fantasies where I could mold him into doing what I wanted in my imagination.
I sat there wondering what had been so important to drag him away, hoping it didn’t have anything to do with his father’s campaign. It had been grueling, but the Senator had held up well for a man of sixty-two. He seemed to thrive on the stress.
But having his strategist fly all the way out to the beach house to retrieve his son was a clue that something serious had happened.
“Pandora?” my mom whispered from the top of the stairs.
I turned to see her wearing that familiar Oscar de la Renta satin robe with the feathered cuffs.
I cringed. “Did I wake you?”
“The car lights woke me up.”
“Sorry.” I stood and ascended the stairs. “Damien had to come back.”
“Right.” There was no surprise in her tone. “He couldn’t leave you at the beach house?”
“Um…no.”
Her eyes widened when she saw the engagement ring. “He proposed?”
If throwing a ring across the room could be called a proposal.
She examined my hand and her eyes watered with the emotion of someone who hadn’t seen this coming. She’d virtually shoved me at the man at the Debutante Ball.
“They announced it in the Times.” I studied her reaction. “You didn’t see it?”
She reached out to hold me. “I’m happy for you, Pandora.”