Page 69 of Remembering Passion

“Are there people you don’t like?”

Damien shrugged. “It isn’t about personal likes or dislikes. Because of the way this partnership was formed, I trust everyone’s business sense. I don’t want to poison your opinion. We can talk tonight after we return to the hotel. At that time, tell me your thoughts.”

While his comment made me a bit uneasy, I could do as he asked. Working a room of people was what I did. The difference with this coalition would be that instead of extracting donations, I would be their connection as they partner with Beta Kappa Phi.

Angie came from the aft of the plane, rolling my suitcase.

“Thank you,” I said, reaching for the handle.

“We can get it down to the car,” she offered. My gaze met Damien’s for only a moment, acknowledging that this was Angie’s job, one I was certain she was well compensated to do. That didn’t mean I couldn’t be appreciative. “Thank you.”

Cool air filled the cabin as the door to the plane opened and the stairs descended.

“I should have requested a coat for you,” Damien said. “If you’re too cold, you may wear my suit coat.”

“I’ll be fine,” I replied with a grin. “Besides, only friends…remember?”

“You should know me well enough to know that I wouldn’t let a friend get cold.”

Our seat belts were unclipped, and we were standing. In a cloud of his spicy cologne, I lifted my chin to meet his stare. “You’d offer Van Sherman your coat?”

He pressed his firm lips together. “Perhaps my kindnesses are most frequently bestowed upon friends of the female persuasion.” The intensity of his stare shone down on me. His focus momentarily going to my lips.

Perhaps it was because I wanted to know I had someone on my side as I entered the upcoming meetings. Or maybe it was simply lust over the man I’d tried to forget. No matter the answer, as we stood in silence, a familiar desire awakening within us and swirling around us, my nipples grew hard and my mouth went dry. Before I could say a word, Damien’s palms came to my cheeks, pulling my face upward as his kiss captured my phrases.

In mere seconds, my entire body was on fire, a blaze reignited that maybe never actually was fully extinguished.

Within his grasp, my heart beat quicker than it had a moment before. I pressed toward him, aware that the timing was wrong, and at the same time, unconcerned. Damien’s tongue sought mine as his kiss grew more intense. It was as his hand wandered under the blazer and I felt the heat of his touch through the blouse that I took a step back, my hand pushing on his wide chest.

There was something I couldn’t read in his blue orbs.

His regular smirk was absent as were his cocky remarks.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he said. Lifting the tip of his finger to my lips, he grinned. “I’ll behave, Ella. Your lips are stunning when they’re swollen.” He looked up, focusing on my eyes. “It’s a sight I love to see, but it’s not for everyone. By the time we get to Van’s office, no one will be the wiser.” He dropped his hand.

I thought about what he’d said earlier. “You mentioned the probationary period as CEO. I don’t remember the exact wording.” My brow furrowed as I tilted my head. “You’ve done so much for Sinclair. You can’t be concerned that the board would replace you. Was there some clause about Mr. Sinclair?” I was speaking of Damien’s father, Derek Sinclair.

Damien’s nostrils flared. “We can talk tonight.”

When I turned toward the open door, Allen and Angie were there in their places, turned away from us. I lowered my volume. “They have the routine down pat, to turn away when Mr. Sinclair is making out with his guest.”

Damien reached for my hand. “You, Gabriella. It’s a rather tangled story, but to be honest, my personal life has been a shit show since you left me. I’d venture to guess they’ve witnessed more verbal disputes than make-out sessions. They’re glad to have you back.”

“What does that mean? A shit show?”

He shook his head. “It’s time to concentrate on the present.”

As we stepped from the airplane, my cheeks tingled from the cold wind, and I squinted my eyes at an onslaught of bright sunlight. A car was waiting on the tarmac with a tall man in a long coat standing by its side. Damien stepped forward, offering his hand.

“Damien Sinclair,” he said.

“Michael Ricks, sir.” The man turned to me with a nod. “Ms. Crystal and Mr. Sinclair, I’m happy to be of service to you while you’re visiting Ashland.”

Wrapping my arms around myself, I smiled. “Could you by any chance make it a little warmer?”

Michael laughed as he opened the back door to the car. “The heat is on inside the car.”

Quickly, I scooted into the back seat and Damien followed. A shiver ran through me as we settled inside. “It’s May,” I said. “Does it get warm here?”

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