“Since it involves Ella.” He walked into the elevator and ran his hand over his head, pacing like a caged animal in the tiny space.

“We deal with dickheads all the time and manage to control our reactions.” Xavier leaned against the mirrored wall. “But this is different for you. Me and the guys have never been in your shoes.”

Listening to Matteo describe her brought back all of the worries from yesterday. “I have a hard time figuring out who she is. The cold, workaholic, friendless woman they described?—”

“Or the sweet, sassy blonde waiting up for you to come home to her?” Xavier looked at the elevator numbers as they counted down to the first floor. “Maybe she’s a mix. Maybe she’ll evolve into something completely different when this is all over. But don’t project what those two people said about her onto the woman that, for some damn reason, likes you a whole hell of a lot. We all have parts that we don’t like because of the circumstances we’re in. You and I know that best.”

Because their deployments with the Marines, being in the field, had turned them into men who would stop at nothing to complete their missions. Maybe Xavier was right.

The elevator dinged. “Fill me in tomorrow afternoon.” Damon stepped off the elevator but turned around, poking Xavier in the chest. “Do not come to mine or her apartment tomorrow morning.”

“C’mon.” Xavier held his arms out wide. “Admit it. The Danish was incredible.”

“It was great, but if you show up tomorrow, I will kick your ass. Give me your truck keys. You three can ride home together.”

“Enjoy your evening, brother,” Xavier said, dropping the truck keys into his hand. “Don’t worry about this or Matteo. Slater will finish up, and we’ll probably swing by and look atTeddy’s place before coming home. The only thing for you to worry about tonight is Ella.”

“I always worry about her,” he muttered, turning and walking out of the luxury condominiums. Today had been a waste of time aside from reaffirming that Ella was better off with him than those people. He’d figure out how to clear her name and then figure out how to make her his.

Damon paused at the crosswalk, surveying the large intersection and people moving back and forth. It was in the heart of downtown Atlanta, not heavy with pedestrian traffic, but the intersection was busy.

But out of the ten people who stood across the street, one guy didn’t move when the crosswalk light changed.

Wearing blue jeans and a white dress shirt, he lit a cigarette. The man was a medium height, bald, and pale, like he’d never seen the sunlight before. Near fifty. He leaned against the light post, watching the building while taking a long drag before scanning the people walking. His focus skipped right over Damon like he didn’t matter.

Damon took his phone out to see if he could zoom in closer, but the picture wasn’t clear.

Before he could snap a picture, the man rolled off the light pole and walked away, flicking his barely touched cigarette into the street, hitting a car. Damon switched to his text messages.

Damon:Did you ever find cameras outside Ella’s condo?

Ryker:I’m working on it. I got into one camera fairly easily, but the other is tricky. Why?

Damon:Because I’m standing here, waiting to cross, and I could swear that I just saw the guy in that picture by the sketch artist. Bald head and everything. Check the camera for this time today when you can.

Ryker:Surprised you didn’t chase him down after your reaction to Matteo.

Damon:Calling out a piece of shit is different from piledriving an innocent man into the concrete.

Damon movedwith the crowd as the light changed, giving up on finding the guy now. He wasn’t certain it was him. Had he stood out here for the last month, waiting for Ella to return? Not likely. But if that was him…what had brought him here today of all days?

20

At five o’clock, a knock on the door made Ella jump from where she sat on the sofa, watching mindless television. She crept across and looked through the peephole before opening it. “Hi. I thought you were going to call?—”

Damon jerked her forward, kissing her hard and cutting off her sentence. He parted her lips, and his tongue swept inside, his beard scraping across her skin.

Yes!God, she’d waited for this moment where he’d let himself go.

Hungry. That’s the only word to describe him right then. He seemed willing to devour her.

He pushed her back into the apartment and kicked the door behind him. He released her body long enough to lock the door without breaking the kiss. His next step forward made her lean off balance, and she began to stumble.

Somehow, he picked her up before she fell, her legs wrapping around his waist as he continued to her bedroom. He turned as he stepped inside, pressing her back against the wall.

He broke the kiss, his brown eyes incredibly dark. “Take your shirt off.”

She couldn’t wiggle out of it fast enough.