Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 72543 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72543 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
“Perfect,” I say agreeably, glancing at April. “I’ll take that.”
Still driving us forward, Damion adds, “The lemon chicken for me, sides as indicated on the menu. No salad.” He hands her the menus, sending a clear message that we’re done, and ready to be alone.
April proves she’s skilled at reading a room and takes a rapid hint. “I’ll get that going.” She sets a small device on the table. “Buzz me if you need me.” She flicks a look in Damion’s direction. “Should I put the food in now or wait a few minutes?”
He glances at his watch and then back at her. “Wait ten minutes.”
“Of course,” she says, and pretty much darts for the exit.
I twist around to observe her departure, and the instant the door shuts with her on the other side, I rotate to Damion, urgency blasting through me like a shot of icy air. “Talk about what?”
“My father showed up at my attorney’s office this morning. The same attorney that handled the contracts I made every board member voting with me sign.”
On the surface, this is almost expected. It’s his father, after all, but Damion’s energy screams at me, warning there’s more coming. “What else?”
He draws in a heavy breath and exhales before throwing his dart. “Your mother was with him.”
It’s a biting revelation, as my mother has promised me over and over she was done with Damion’s father, but it’s not as horrid as I’d expected. I know they’re sleeping together. I know my parents are not happy together. My belief in fairy tale marriages and happy families ended years ago; sailed away on a ship filled with dreams and got lost one foggy Hudson Bay night years before.
And yet, I sit across from Damion, about to move in with him, with hope in my heart that we can be different. Perhaps I’m still a naïve little girl, but I’m not sure I want to become the alternative—a bitter, empty person.
“Alana?”
At Damion’s prod, I blink him back into focus. “This isn’t new. We know they’re behaving badly. I just don’t understand why she was with him there at your attorney’s office.”
His finely chiseled jaw flexes. “It was a message to me, Alana.”
Unease sizzles through me. “What message?”
“He’s close to you. He can get to you. And he’ll use you to hurt me.”
There’s an ominous quality to his tone, but relief is fast and hard. I dismiss it with a wave of my hand. “But he can’t, Damion. I told you. Nothing he can say—”
“You’re wrong Alana, and we have to talk about how wrong, but not now, not in a public place. At home. Our home. And it has to be tonight. I’m only bringing this up now because we need to talk about protection.”
My brows dip. “Protection? What does that even mean?”
“He’ll try to drive you away from me, Alana, and if that doesn’t work—”
“It won’t work,” I assure him.
“Desperate people do desperate things. If he fails to turn you against me, he’ll do whatever it takes to break me, and the only way he does that is by hurting you. He knows that. That’s why he stayed connected to your family.”
I draw a hard-earned breath and try to digest what he’s just told me. This is the pin in the happy balloon I’d been floating on when I’d walked into work this morning. “I’m your weakness. That’s what you’re telling me.” My fingers curl on my lap. “Let me guess.” My throat is tight, the words tight, my belly tighter. “You don’t want me to move in with you. Is that what this is?”
He is on the floor on a knee beside me in an instant, tugging my chair around to face him, his expression as earnest as his words. “No. No. That is not what I am saying, woman. You’re moving in with me, where you belong, if I have to hand pack your bags for you myself and throw you over my damn shoulder. You belong with me, Alana.”
His reaction soothes the raw nerves the conversation has created, and I press my hand to his face. “I want so very much to be with you and to live with you, but you just told me I’m the blade that cuts you. I don’t want to be that blade, Damion.”
“He thinks you’re a weakness, baby, but he’s wrong. You’re my reason to fight for right over wrong.” He captures my hand and brings it to his lips. “You’re moving in with me. Say it.”
The words are a command, but there is trepidation in his eyes. He’s fearful I will reject him, and it is not what he wants. This pleases me, it does. It is not what I want either, but I am worried beyond belief at all the ways he’s placing himself in harm’s way. “Answer honestly. Does me living with you make things harder on you? Does it make you more of a target?”