Page 25 of Scorned Queen
“I’m glad she did as well.”His eyes narrow.“That invitation to dinner—”
“Was appreciated, but as I said—”
“You’re in a relationship,” he supplies, and there is skepticism in his voice.“You told me that information in an awkward way.Why?”
It’s a bold question, but my reply is fast and easy.“It’s a new thing that was an old thing.But it’s also a good thing.”I motion behind him and choose my words cautiously so as not to invite scandal.“I actually have a driver waiting on me for a scheduled lunch.”
He rotates just enough to bring the vehicle into his line of sight, and mine as well, and my breath hitches as I find Damion leaning on the SUV, his arms folded over his perfect chest, his chiseled jaw set hard in disapproval.Much like he did to my prom date, only Dierk is not the man in my life.Damion is, and he seems to be dead set on making that evident to Dierk.
Dierk’s attention returns sharply to me.“You’re seeing Damion West?”
I’m worried about Damion ending up all over the press because of me, and it somehow being used against him with his father.But with Damion standing there, staring at Dierk with a look that borders on downright violence, the message is clear.I am not to deny he’s my man.And I really don’t want to.
So I don’t.Not really.But just as he was protecting me with the car service, I have to protect him, too.“I’m having lunch with him to celebrate our renewal,” I reply.
“That’s not an answer.”
Dierk just won’t let this go, and I think of how I would feel if I were Damion.I would not want to be denied.“Yes,” I say.“I am.Nice to have you on the show, Dierk.See you next month.”I end the conversation by stepping around him and walking toward Damion.
There’s a predatory gleam in Damion’s gaze, his anger crackling off of him, the wicked sweep of his gaze up and down my body, as possessive as it is bold.There is familiar jealousy in his behavior.Damion made a habit most of our youth of acting as if I were his girlfriend but then latching onto another woman—a complicated habit I can’t say I didn’t cause.I pushed him away.I called him “friend” and stressed how much I didn’t want to lose our friendship.But this is not then, not even close, and his intensity is palpable.
I can feel Dierk at my back, watching us, and I don’t know why I thought departing our conversation first was a good idea.He wants what Shauna wants—the scoop on my love life—and dread fills me.I’m going to pull Damion into the spotlight, and he’s not that guy.What is he thinking, putting us on display as he is right here in this moment?He’s watching my every step, staring at me like he wants to gobble me up or lick me all over, and there’s no way anyone watching doesn’t know—Dierk included.
I certainly know.
I’m melting like butter right here on this New York City street, my mind aiding in my body’s seduction, replaying sexy moments, his hands and mouth on my body.Heat pools low in my belly, and my nipples pucker beneath my lacy bra.I’m an easy mark for the man who has been my fantasy all my life.I want him.I have always wanted him.Damion knows this, too, so I don’t know why he feels this display is necessary, and while I might be warm all over, I don’t like the head game it represents.Or that we are still in place after all these years to need to play them.
I halt a respectful distance in front of him, the wind teasing my nostrils with his familiar earthy scent and doing nothing to aid my efforts to chide him.“What are you doing?”I hiss, angry now, too.
He shackles my waist, and he tugs me into him, our legs intimately aligned.
“Making sure he knows you’re mine,” he answers boldly, a slight splay to his fingers.
It’s all I can do not to touch him and add to the story any watchful eye is already writing about us.“You do realize we are all over the internet, and my producer wants to talk about us on air?”
“I don’t care who knows, Alana.It’s inevitable.We live together now.You’re wearing my ring.”
A not-so-nice feeling rips through my chest, right where my heart is.I forgot.The engagement show hasn’t ended.He reads me instantly and cups my head.“Alana, baby, it’s not fake.”
My fingers curl into my palms, one on my purse and the other by my side.“Isn’t it?”
“You’re the most real thing in my life, Alana.”His voice is low, roughened up.“Let’s get inside the SUV.”He pushes off the car and holds the door open for me, but I’m still living inside his words.I’m the most real thing in his life, and I’m still his fake fiancée, and I’m on display for the world to see.With this biting knowledge, I get in the SUV.
Chapter twenty-two
Mythroatisrawwith emotions as I settle against the soft leather of the seat, reminding myself that we are not fake.I am moving in with him.That’s as real as it gets.I’m simply sensitive to this “fake” game we played after a lifetime of push and pull between us.
Damion joins me, shutting us inside.“We’re ready,” he calls out to the driver, his hand settling on my leg.“Have you ever been to Kristie’s?”
That’s it?Have I ever been to Kristie’s?Really?I twist around and bring him into view, and I open my mouth to confront him, but then zip my lips.I’m aware of the driver, of the fact we are not alone, and anything I say to Damion could easily become fodder for the press as easily as it could standing beside the SUV outside.
He arches a brow.
I face forward again and fold my arms in front of me.“I heard it’s fabulous.And close.”
He captures my leg and drags me closer, his arm settling around me.“Don’t be angry,” he murmurs softly, his voice a seductive purr, “though my behavior is wholly your fault.You make methat crazy.”
“I make you crazy?”I challenge, my voice low and filled with accusation.“As my mother would say: pot, kettle.”