Chapter 5

“Comparison is the thief of joy.” –Teddy Roosevelt.

I'm panicking. Full blown panic. Red cheeks. Wide eyes. Mouth ajar as I suck air in. The cameras are flashing all around me–capturing the romantic moment, I think bitterly–and I'm just standing here, caught off guard.

Not willing to keep looking on like a fool, I turn and head back to the car which, luckily, has not yet been carted away by the valet.

I close the door behind me and stare out of the window–grateful that the glasses are tinted–as I watch Damon stare at the lady in his arms, his eyes full of longing. And regret? I can't be sure. Maybe I'm just imagining things.

Who is she anyway? A long lost lover? A one night stand? Or perhaps the lady he would have agreed to marry if I wasn't in the picture?

I can make out the headlines in my head already. The King of the Night finally meets his long lost lover, albeit while on a date with a desperate unknown lady.

Or maybe they'll finally be able to piece my information together. The summer gown I'm wearing is short sleeved and my scar is peeking out from underneath it.

Maybe they'll connect it with my picture at the ball and dig into my past. Knowing the media, they would air my dirty laundry for the whole world to see.

I finally turn my face away from the scene as I close my eyes, trying to calm my frantically beating heart.

Will Damon ask me to refund the five million dollars he had paid upfront? I am spiraling and I can feel my lungs closing up. Tears roll down my cheeks as I desperately try to clear the thoughts from my mind and focus instead on breathing, all to no avail.

I start feeling lightheaded and just when I think I’ll pass out, a hand turns my head to the side just as soft plump lips descend on mine. I freeze in shock but don't move away.

My mind goes blank as this particular set of lips start to move against mine. Softly, almost hesitantly. I don't try to read any meaning into it. I don't open my eyes to see who it is. I just respond, although somewhere in the back of my mind, I know who exactly it is. Because who else will it be?

My lips part slightly as I take his bottom lips in mine, sucking gently on it. The hand holding my jaw in place moves upwards to my cheek, gently caressing my face.

Not wanting to be considered stiff, my hands leave my thighs and move up his arms as I moan softly into the kiss. His arms are muscular, exactly how I have imagined them to be.

Damon groans against my lips–

Wait, what?

I freeze, pulling back slightly and he stops. His eyes rove over my face and I'm sure I look as red as a rose at the moment.

Turning away to face the window, I notice that the paparazzi are nowhere to be seen, and neither is the lady.

Who is she anyway? The question sits heavily on the tip of my tongue but I bite it back. I'm embarrassed enough about the kiss to strike up a conversation with him.

“Are you alright?” Damon asks, adjusting back in his seat and I nod as I look out the window.

“So about the lady from earlier…” he pauses, as if waiting for a reaction but I don't look at him. I can't.

The kiss was never supposed to happen. We were both going to pretend we were in love in public, and if we were lucky, we might never even kiss.

But now, our comfortable dynamic is ruined and I feel awkward around him. The silence sits heavily between us and I suddenly feel nervous.

Stealing a glance at him when he doesn't continue his statement, I find out that he's watching me, staring at me so intensely I feel my cheeks start to heat up. He runs his hand through his hair as he exhales through his mouth.

I need to do something, anything to distract myself from the thoughts of his lips that I can't seem to tear my eyes away from.

“Uhmmm… I guess she's your ex-lover or something like that, right? Considering the fact that she was bold enough to kiss you in public. Not like I'm jealous. But you looked at her with so much longing that I feel like you don't need me anymore. I can pay back four and a half million but I'm afraid the remaining money is gone. Of course, if you give me a little more time, I can work to pay you back and–”

I'm cut short by the laughter that rumbles from deep within his chest. I'm talking full on laughter with his head thrown back, eyes closed and throat bobbing.

I'm embarrassed for the umpteenth time today and I start to turn towards the window again–ready to go back to my silent scenery viewing–but Damon doesn't allow it. He grabs my hands in his and forces me to look at him.

I'm beet red at the moment and my heart is thumping at an incredible speed as I wait for him to talk. But instead, he runs his thumb over the back of my wrist and it has such a soothing effect that I begin to calm down.

“Where would you like to go?” He asks me without letting go of my hand. His eyes are soft as he stares at me and his dimples are prominent as he smiles softly, giving an innocent look.

“I don't know.” I whisper, directing my eyes to our joined hands. I don't trust myself to look at him. He's so handsome and I feel like my eyes will become googly if I continue staring at him.

Does this mean I have a crush on Damon Knight? My heart skips for a minute when he lifts my palm to his lips, kissing it lightly. Yes, I'm definitely crushing on him.

“Why don't we go somewhere private? I'm thinking we could talk better about this without camera flashes or prying eyes. Would you like that?”

The concern in his voice and the fact that he's making sure I'm comfortable surprises me and I lift my eyes to his, the concern in those bright green eyes showing me all I need to see.

Damon knows–about my anxiety–and he understands.

I nod my response to the question, not trusting my voice. My throat is closing up from the emotions swirling in my chest and immediately Damon releases my hands to drive, I turn back to the window once again–only this time, my mind is invaded by thoughts of the perfect man sitting next to me.

The car is filled with comfortable silence and a few minutes later, Damon pulls over to a gate. After scanning his retina, the gate opens to reveal a mansion. I'm transfixed as we make our way through the smooth gravel road, trees and vegetation on either side.

There's a huge fountain in front of the building as well as a small bungalow to the right, facing the main building. It's magnificent all the same though.

“That's where the housekeeper lives,” Damon refers to the bungalow, answering my unspoken question.

“Oh…” I trail off.

We finally get to the front of the mansion and I crane my head in my seat to get a closer look, awed by the gleaming marble stones used to build the house.

“Wait here,” he instructs. I watch as he climbs down from the car and moves around the front to open my door for me. Was that really necessary?

We finally get settled in one of many rooms in the mansion–Damon calls it the Green Room. He had taken me on a tour immediately after we got into the house.

“So, who was that lady?” I ask, nursing a glass of wine in my hands, painfully aware of Damon's eyes on me.

He stays quiet for a long time that I start debating if I should have brought it up at all. But I needed to know who she is, since we're going to be married for six months.

“She's no one important,” he finally replies in a clipped tone. I'm taken aback by the bitterness in his voice and I look up at him in shock but he quickly averts his eyes.

Touchy subject, noted.

We sit in silence after that. I am not really a conversation starter and after being shut down like that, there's no way I'm bringing a topic up any more.

The silence is making me nervous though and it seems like I'm not the only one, because Damon sighs and runs his hand through his hair. I have noticed how he does that when he's nervous.

“Let's talk about how this thing between us is going to work out.”

I don't take offense to him referring to the marriage as a thing because it's a sham. I'm glad he's finally put himself back together.

I'll find out about this mysterious lady on my own, because based on his reactions, she's definitely someone important.