Page 48 of Rekindling Desire

My heart skipped a beat. “What do you mean?”

The tendons in his neck pulled taut and his chiseled jaw was rigid.

“Damien.”

“We need to talk. I’ve got a call out to Timothy Evans. He’s with Sinclair legal…if you don’t remember him. He works with Stephen, who is still in Florida with Dad.”

“Is this about the addendum?”

Damien pulled his car into a parking space on the street and shut off the engine. “What kind of alcohol do you have on hand?”

“Mostly wine. I think there’s an old bottle of bourbon my dad left after his last visit.”

Damien reached for my hand. “I fucking love you, Ella. I have since” —he touched the diamond on my fourth finger— “before I bought this ring.”

I lifted my other hand to his scruffy cheek. “I told Mom that when I called. She was shocked that we married, but I told her the truth. I love you. I care about you. I didn’t mention that we’ve agreed to work on our relationship.”

“Rekindle.”

A smile lifted my cheeks. “Rekindle. When I left you, I concentrated on the negative. How you were a workaholic and how it seemed you cared more about Sinclair than you did me.” I placed a finger over his lips as he began to speak. “Damien, that wasn’t your fault. Not totally. I see you differently now. You have every right to be concerned about Derek and about the company, even the coalition. I’m not jealous of that. I want to be a part of it, to share your load.”

Damien’s nostrils flared.

I looked out the side window and back to Damien. “We could go inside.”

As I unlocked the front door to the condo, I had a thought. “You need a key.”

“And you need one to my place. Ours.”

Although we’d spent last night here in my condo, I had the sensation as if Damien was visiting, not staying. Stepping inside we were met by our greeting party—Duchess. She ran toward us and rubbed around my ankles before doing the same to Damien.

“You really are the only other person in the world she likes,” I said as he picked her up from the floor.

“Hello, Duchess.”

The timbre of his deep greeting made me smile.

She responded with a push of her head against his chin.

“I could cook dinner,” I offered, wondering what I had in the refrigerator or freezer that I could make into a meal.

Damien draped his suit coat on the back of one of the chairs at the breakfast bar and began rolling the sleeves of his shirt to his elbows. “Let’s order delivery.”

“I can cook,” I said, slipping out of my heels.

His smile formed. “I’m hoping that tonight we’ll utilize other skills than your culinary ones.”

“Then how about that bourbon or would you like wine?”

“I’ll start with wine in case you kick me out.”

Why would I do that?

Opening the wine refrigerator, I pulled out a partial bottle of chardonnay. “This?” I looked in the refrigerator. “I have others, and I think there’s a cabernet in the cupboard.”

“Cab,” he said, opening the cupboards.

Taking two wine goblets from the cabinet, I sat them on the counter and handed Damien the wine opener. Once the glasses were filled, we each took one as he led me by my other hand to the living room.

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