hill—although Damián had no idea who could see it with all the trees.
Isolated. She must have incredible views of the ocean on the back side of the house. He wondered why the sunset at Laguna had captured her with such awe.
“Please, Damián! I don’t want you to…”
Damián felt her hands tighten around his waist as they saw lights going on from room to room as someone made his or her way to the front door. He had barely stopped the Harley and put the stick down before she let go and scrambled off the bike. She hurriedly unhooked the helmet and handed it to him.
“Thanks for everything, Damián. This will be the best day of my whole life.” She pecked him on the cheek and made a dash for the front door, as if she hoped to get inside before anyone saw him. Did he embarrass her?
Mierda, he wouldn’t have guessed that she was like that.
What did she mean by “will be” the best day? She had her whole life ahead of her. How could she know that?
Before she reached the door, it opened inward. Rather than the man from the hotel, a tall, older man stepped onto the fan-shaped flagstone entrance. She lowered her head when he put his hand on her shoulder to halt her. Was this her father?
The placement of the man’s hand seemed more familiar than a father would touch his daughter. Her sugar daddy, then? Man, won’t he be pissed to learn she’d let someone else dip his wick in her. His crude thought soured his stomach, but if she could just throw away what they’d experienced, then so could he.
“Go in the house, Savannah. Wait in the office.”
“Yes, sir.”
The man reminded him of the Doms in his ex-girlfriend’s porn videos. Was he her Dom? Did she really get off on that pain shit? Then why was he pimping her out to other men? To Jerk-off? Those other men?
He saw her body tense as she cast a glance at Damián. Tears shone in her eyes. Did he see a bit of fear, as well? His gut clenched. Goddamn it, why did she put up with that crap? Clearly, she’d found sexual satisfaction with him at the beach, and he’d done nothing to hurt her. He wanted to take her in his arms and hold her. Take her away from here. Cherish and protect her.
She turned her body toward Damián, lifting her head just enough to make eye contact, and mouthed another thank you, then veered away to enter the house. Damián watched until he could no longer see her, then turned his attention back to the old man. If the asshole could breathe fire, he’d singe the tires off the Harley. His face was splotchy red, hands clenched at his sides.
“If I ever catch you near Savannah again, Orlando, I’ll make you sorry you were ever born.”
How’d he know his name?
Well, fuck you, old man. “If she wants to see me, that’s her decision.”
“Savannah makes no decisions. And I’ve done some investigating. If you don’t want to be charged with assault and battery for that incident at my hotel yesterday, you’ll heed my words.”
What the fuck? He owned the hotel where Damián had worked? Did Savannah work for him, too? He guessed so. Why? Hell, he realized he didn’t understand anything about her. She was the most screwed up chica he’d ever met. If she was willing to sell her body so she could live like this, he’d never have anything to offer her.
“Get that contraption off my drive before it leaks any more oil.”
His Harley did not leak anything. Pissed, but not wanting to risk an arrest and doing jail time, Damián revved the motor, glanced at the open door Savannah had disappeared through, then peeled away. He turned back to see the black streak of rubber very visible in the overly lit tiled driveway. He gained a sense of satisfaction knowing that, every time her sugar daddy saw that patch of rubber, he’d remember Damián. His spirits lifted a little.
But the haunted look in Savannah’s eyes as she mouthed her thanks would be what burned in his memory forever. Had he made the right decision to leave her here? Mierda. He should have given her his phone number, in case she needed him. Not that he would have expected her to use it.
Madre de Dios, he hoped she’d take better care of herself.
Damián would just have to hold onto his memories of what