his head to get my way. What’s a mother to do?”
“Behave,” he admonishes.
Rose rises. “I’ll check on dinner. Help yourself to the wine.”
As she leaves the room, Damon and I stand to stretch. He takes our glasses to the bar and tops them off while I take in the beautiful furnishings and art.
The fireplace mantel catches my attention. A lifetime’s worth of photos is spread across the marble surface. Damon reaches around me to hand me my glass and remains close, leaning over my shoulder. His breath caresses my neck while he walks me through the photos.
The pictures tell the story of the Noble family, starting from the left to the right, the tale begins. A beautiful wedding photo of Rose and her husband starts the journey. Damon’s dad’s name was Simon, and he was a biology professor at USC. The next few pictures are of Roman, and then there are pictures of Damon. Roman was two years older than Damon and had similar features. Comparing the brothers, I’d say Damon was the better looking of the two.
Turning to face him, I sing his praises. “Look at how cute you were. I bet you broke a lot of hearts with those eyes.”
“I was never the heartbreaker, but always the brokenhearted.” His vacant look makes me wonder where he went. It’s obviously a place that’s painful to visit.
“That’s hard for me to believe. I call you the Viking god, and can’t imagine the girls not falling at your feet.”
“Viking god?” He grins. “I like that.”
Caged between his body and the fireplace, my heart pounds at the excitement of his nearness. It’s useless to lie to myself. I like this man.
Instinctually, I reach up on tiptoes and kiss him quickly. It’s a peck, really. Barely a pass by, but the action shocks both of us.
He hops back, and I bolt for the safety of the couch. We part just in time for Rose to call us for dinner.
He leads the way to the formal dining room, where the kitchen staff serves Cornish game hens.
“Katarina, next Saturday is a benefit for Roman.” She slices into her chicken and sets the bite aside. “Every year, the Los Angeles Philharmonic performs, and all proceeds go to the Roman Noble Scholarship Foundation. Roman played piano with the Philharmonic for two years before he passed away. Every year, we raise enough money to help several budding musicians go to college. I’d be honored if you’d join Damon and me on Saturday. It could be fun.”
Damon groans before he tries to reel in his mom again. “Mom, she doesn’t want to come to the performance. She most likely has plans.”
Something about him dismissing me drives the conversation. “I love the Philharmonic and would happily join you. Should I meet you there?”
Rose bounced in her seat. “Excellent. Damon will pick you up or send a car. Won’t you, Damon?”
He pastes on a smile. “I’d be delighted to pick you up.” He appears pleased, despite his phony smile.
They ate their dinner where interspersed conversations about the weather, Katarina’s classes, and the opening of Ahz were discussed between bites.
“Let’s have coffee in the living room.”
We sit on the couch and wait for Rose to return with a tray of cups and a pot of coffee.
“This will be so much fun. What do you think you’ll wear, Katarina?”
“I don’t know. I don’t have much formal wear, but I can borrow a dress from my roommate.” I turn toward Damon. “What about the blue dress Emma wore at the hospital fundraiser?”
Damon lets out a groan, and I laugh.
We stay another thirty minutes before we say our goodbyes.
Damon’s mother has the heart of a lion.
“Thank you for a great night. Your mom is nice,” I say.
“She likes to have her way. I’m sorry you got roped into going to the Philharmonic on Saturday. Hopefully, your preparations won’t interfere with book club.”
“I don’t see why it should,” I answer.
“Speaking of book club … I bought you a gift.” Damon reaches into the back seat and hands me a rectangular box.
I open it. “A scarf?”
“You’ll understand.”
“So, this has something to do with the book?”
“Most assuredly, and as a side benefit, it’s silk and soft and beautiful,” he says
“Now I have to stay up and read.”
Twenty minutes later, we’re sitting in the car parked in front of my house.
“Kat, I wanted to say something about the kiss tonight.”
“I’m sorry. I had a moment, and I reacted impulsively.”
He opens his door and rounds the car. When he reaches