I can be mad too.
Now that I’m alone in his bedroom, I take a few minutes to look around. I didn’t get to truly see anything earlier because he distracted me. For the first time, I see the dark furniture and luxurious bedding that is posh but masculine with its brown and gold palette. I didn’t notice the wall of glass. His house sits so far up in the canyon, it’s like sitting in a tree house. Maybe it reminds him of his father and brother and the beloved tree house they built and shared.
The bathroom is unbelievable, with a shower made to hold no less than ten people. Heads and jets spray from every wall. There’s even a button for steam. It takes a few minutes to figure out how to turn everything on, but I finally get the water adjusted and climb into a new experience.
The jets are set for Damon’s height, so a lot of the water shoots over my head, but the heat and steam relax my muscles as I sink against the far wall. One side of the shower contains a bench, and on it is a wide selection of body washes and shampoos. Looking through them, I find the least manly of the bunch and lather up.
“Can I wash your back?”
His voice startles me, and I spin around to see him.
“I’m sorry.” The whispered apology drips with sincerity. He wraps his arms around me, and he tugs me close.
“You don’t have to be sorry, but we need to talk about whatever takes you to that place. This isn’t the first time you’ve gone there.”
He sits on the bench and pulls me to his lap. We sit together as the water pours over us and prunes our skin. My head leans lazily against his shoulder as he cradles me in his arms. When the water runs cold and I shiver, he rises with me in his arms, turns off the water, and carries me out of the shower.
Setting me down on the soft rug, he rushes to the linen cabinet, pulls out a large bath towel, and drapes me in it. He has a second one he wraps around his waist.
I have a hard time separating this man from the angry one in the kitchen. If I’m honest, that man rarely shows up, but when he does, it is an unsettling experience.
We move to the glass wall in the bedroom and take a seat on the overstuffed chairs. The stars light up the night sky.
“I can’t imagine you with another man,” he says.
I’m jolted from my peaceful moment and catapulted back to the here and now.
“You don’t have to picture me with another man. I’m here with you.” I reach for his hand.
“You are now, but what about tomorrow or next week or next month?”
“Damon, you made it clear you were not ready for a relationship. You wanted to start slow. We agreed to take it one kiss at a time.”
“We are way beyond kisses, Katarina. The minute I sank myself into you, everything changed. I don’t know why, but it did, and I need to know you’re mine.”
I leave my chair and climb onto his lap. “I’m yours if that’s what you want. Is that what you really want?”
“I want you, and I’m ready to move forward. You brand me with your kisses. You mesmerize me with your laughter. You astonish me with your candor. And you completely paralyze my heart with your ability to love.” He plays with a stand of my wet hair. “A while back, you told me I was lovable and worthy, and I didn’t agree. I still don’t think I deserve your love, but I want it. I need it.”
Tears pool in my eyes. His words are heartfelt and earnest, and my heart somersaults in my chest.
“Don’t cry.” He wipes my tears and muffles my sobs with a kiss. “I never want to make you cry.”
“They’re good tears. I never expected those words to come out of your mouth.”
“I guess there’s hope for me yet,” he says with a small smile. “It’s getting late. Are you ready to go to bed?”
His strong arms carry me to the massive bed, where he lays me on the soft sheets and slides next to me. His chin sits comfortably above my shoulder with his breath tickling my neck, sending small shivers down my spine. I know his intent is to climb into bed and sleep, but having him next to me makes