at the front page of today’s paper, and saw the headline.
IS IT LOVE AT HER MAJESTY’S THEATRE?
I ignored the cheesy headline. I didn’t really care about the article, either, but my eyes were instantly drawn to the two side-by-side pictures of me and Damian.
A photographer had caught the moment when Damian had picked me up after I’d stubbed my toe. The first image was almost mesmerizing. With a snap of a shutter, someone had captured the concern in Damian’s eyes as he’d looked down at me with an expression so full of affection and warmth that it made my heart race.
The second one froze Damian and me while we were in motion, sharing that brief but incredibly tender kiss before he’d placed me in the back of the limo.
The tear ducts that I’d thought were completely empty suddenly pushed a bucket of moisture into my eyes, and my vision clouded.
I’m not imagining things. He really does look at me the way I remembered. I don’t understand how he could care about me, and still act the way that he had in the east wing.
Two huge droplets led the march down my cheeks, and the rest followed like another dam had broken.
I slapped the paper back onto the table, making sure the images were facedown.
It doesn’t matter how he looks at me when he’s fucking any woman he can find after that.
I was angry at myself, and I was brutal when I swiped all the tears from my face like I was trying to scrub away every memory I had of Damian.
Trying desperately to put him out of my mind, I watched people rush down the throughway from my seat outside of the crowds.
I found it interesting that people in airports always seemed to be in such a big hurry, trying to get to where they were going in as little time as possible, only to arrive at security or at their gate and…just wait.
I closed my eyes and tried to wipe everything out of my mind. I breathed in slowly, and then out.
Although I’d never been able to meditate like Kylie could, I was willing to try almost anything at the moment to erase the image of Damian naked and in bed with another woman completely out of my head.
I couldn’t believe he’d actually had the gall to call me beautiful while he had his hand under the skirt of some stunning brunette!
Had I been starting to forget that he had his picture taken with an entire bevy of gorgeous nude women at an orgy?
How did I ever allow myself to forget that, or let myself believe the excuse that it was all a setup?
Why? Why? Why?
It was the answer I’d wanted immediately after seeing Damian half naked, seducing a female who wasn’t…me.
I guess I still wanted that answer.
I mean, seriously, the man had to be some kind of nymphomaniac or sex addict. Damian and I had barely let a couple of hours go by without having some kind of sexual encounter. To be honest, we’d been fucking like bunnies the entire week because we couldn’t seem to get enough of each other’s bodies.
“Dammit!” I said out loud. This whole meditation thing didn’t seem to be working. At all!
“I hate to intrude on whatever it is that you’re doing,” a smooth baritone said from the chair next to me. “But I really do need to talk to you, love.”
My eyes popped open. I turned my head and groaned. Not that I didn’t know exactly whose voice I’d just heard, but the verification was painful.
“Well, I don’t want to talk to you.” I hated the fact that I sounded like a spiteful child. “I have a flight to catch. I’d appreciate it if you’d just…go away.”
Damian was still dressed in his tuxedo, just like I was still wearing my formal gown. I planned on changing into the jeans and top I’d worn to Bella’s this morning before I boarded my flight.
“I can’t let you go until you hear everything, Nicole, and then I’ll let you make your own decision. I won’t promise that I won’t try to change your mind if it isn’t the resolution I want, but if you really want to board that flight, I’ll let you.”
“You’ll let me? Excuse me if I was under the impression that England was still a free country.” My voice was oozing sarcasm, but anger was the only thing that was going to stop me from breaking down in tears, so I’d use