My throat tightened with uncertainty. Once.
He looked startled when I failed to deny it, but I knew that any expression of affection for him now could scare him away for good.
Damien raised his hands in frustration. “Your honesty is to be admired.”
Tension made the air hard to breathe. “I need a moment.”
“Right now, my main focus is getting Pandora Aria Bardot deleted from my Wikipedia page.”
“Do you have any idea how you sound?”
He snapped his hand to his chest. “This is what you do to me. Keeping my composure around you is a fucking fulltime job.”
“What did I do wrong?”
“Tell me one thing you’ve done right.”
“I’ve done everything that was asked of me. Even agreeing to marry…”
He sighed. “Your brand of romance is addictive. If you’re into self-flagellation.”
I tried to read what was really going on, but Damien was so closed off it was impossible to get through to him. “I need you to kill the story on my father.”
He looked stunned. “That’s why you’re here?”
“Well, I wanted to see you regardless.”
I saw the doubt in his eyes. “Your father’s career in politics is over.”
“There must be something you or your dad can do?”
He nudged me back against the wall, placing his hands on either side of my head to cage me in. “It’s hopeless. You and your family can sink back into whatever oil spill you all crawled out of.”
“Do you have any idea who you’re talking to?” God, I was becoming brave.
“You won’t let me forget.”
“Do you want me to announce our breakup?” I said bitterly.
“Not until after the election.” His mouth hovered near mine.
He was going to damn well kiss me—that’s what was happening here. His gaze dropped to my lips, which gave me hope. There was still something between us. Maybe I could find a way to get through to him.
“I’m asking for your help,” I said softly. “My father’s a good man.”
His lips dared to brush mine, causing a shudder to run through me.
“You’re just doing his bidding.” He straightened, moving away from me abruptly as though coming to his senses.
“I admit, Daddy may have asked me to speak with you—”
“Exactly, Pandora. This isn’t about you and me. It’s about politics. It’s about what I can do for you.”
“Please don’t say that.”
“Want the truth?” He stepped closer, leaning over me once again. “You and I have completed our mission.”
This time, he really is going to kiss me. Kiss me for the first time…
But he only turned away and said, “Do what you do best.”
“What’s that?”
“Look pretty.”
“There’s more to me than just looks.”
“Not one thing I’ve seen or heard from you suggests you care about anyone but yourself.”
“I’ve wanted to do so many things, but my parents—”
“What have you ever done for someone else?”
“I’m here for my family, aren’t I? Talking with the most monstrous man in the room.”
The smile he gave me didn’t reach his eyes. His expression told me he felt he’d made his point.
Tears sprang to my eyes. “I did everything you asked of me.”
“You’re merely a pawn in the game. Your father’s moves have knocked you off the board.” He straightened his jacket. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a campaign to win for my father.”
“What about what happened in your loft?” I inhaled sharply. “Did any of our time together mean anything to you?”
I felt lightheaded just remembering how he’d touched me there. He was the first man I’d ever been with in that way—and I’d foolishly let myself fall for this playboy.
He hesitated with his hand on the handle, ready to pull the door open, his expression taut as he said, “I remember you saying you wanted your freedom…”
“Please, don’t go like this,” I pleaded.
Damien looked back at me, his eyes dark with emotion.
And then he left me alone, trembling in the shockwave of his anger.
I fought to get my breathing under control, trying to hold back the tears.
Falling for this man was not the plan, I reminded myself.
No matter what happened next, I needed to escape this life.
I couldn’t go back to my table.
Not yet.
I wasn’t ready to face my parents and their questions. I didn’t want to tell them how terribly wrong it had gone between me and Damien.
I stood there with my hands shaking, trying to figure out what I’d say when the Spanish Inquisition came crashing down on me. I could imagine the angry glances I’d receive from my father and the look of disappointment I’d see on my mother’s face. They had relied on me and I’d let them down.
I should never have told Damien those things…even if he’d been just as cruel, just as dismissive and rude. There’d been a glimmer of hope between us and I’d missed my chance. He might have seen past our differences if I’d not blurted out those cruel words.
I’d fucked up.
My father might never speak to me again.
I’d lived without their affection for most of my life, but since returning to the States, I’d found I couldn’t exist without it. Their approval was my lifeblood. My brother had stolen the limelight when we were children, but since he was living in Dallas, I’d had my chance to shine.
I sighed. It was time to admit defeat and get the ordeal over with. I had to hold back the tears until I got home and I was alone, locked in my room.
Once back in the ballroom, I looked around for Damien—not that I was ready to face his wrath again. I just wanted to see him one last time.
Would it be the last time?
Damien was leaning against the bar nursing an amber-colored drink, surrounded by sycophants as he held court with members of the Political Action Committee. No doubt those members of PAC were offering to throw money at the campaign to help shoehorn the family into the White House, if he promised to return the favor once Daddy was President.
And to think this wasn’t even the dirtiest side of Washington.
A woman eased past me even though there was plenty of room around us.
“Excuse me.” She touched my arm as she slid past.
Turning, I saw it was Madeline Rhodes.
She strolled away, flaunting her beauty with every step as she headed over to the dessert table. Her exquisite bright red gown had a slit up the side. Madeline wasn’t stealing the show, she was the show.
And she was back for him.
Visiting her classroom a week ago had been a colossal miscalculation.
Pretending to be interested in the sugar feast set before me on silver trays, I perused row upon row of delights—from the selection of delicate chocolate truffles to the classic creamy mousses cupped in individual glasses, from lemon and saffron bites to miniature cupcakes.
“Oh, hello.” She sounded surprised.
Seriously?
“Pandora, you look divine.” She picked up a set of silver tongs and reached for a tiny cupcake, placing it onto her plate. “Want anything?” She raised the tongs and gave them a click.