Page 42 of A Night with Damien Spur

And then, she had the wave. That rush of heat rising between her legs, up through her body, burning her cheeks. She was sizzling again. Taken over by the need to touch him, kiss him.

‘I’ve made you dinner,’ Damien said. ‘Then we can go to bed.’

And so the sessions continued. Her place or his. Work, dinner, sex – and goodbye in the morning.

Until the day he set sail.

They lay in post-coital bliss while Damien tenderly stroked her hair. ‘Anna, what am I to do with you?’

‘I don’t know, Damien. What do you want to do with me?’

‘Well, I don’t want to hurt you,’ he said. ‘I’ve loved being your mentor. The story is wonderful and really works now. I am happy to send it to my agent, but…’

‘But what? It’s been more than just the book, hasn’t it?’

‘Well, yes.’

Here it comes, the goodbye line. Keep it fresh, Damien.

‘It’s not your fault, it’s mine,’ he said. ‘But I just can’t be with one woman, Anna. I’m an adventurer. You need a man who loves just you.’

‘Please don’t tell me what I need. I’m grateful that you’ve helped me with my book, but I don’t see why we can’t carry on seeing each other. Are you bored with me?’

‘You should never ask that question.’

Anna sighed and turned away. Maybe it was for the best. Keep the work separate. Stay friends.

After he’d left, she rang Claudia.

‘It’s over. Damien will help me with the book, but he doesn’t want a relationship.’

‘So, was he good in bed?’

‘Claudia! What are you saying?’

‘I heard he has a five-star rating.’

Anna shouldn’t have called. There was a side to Claudia that she found cruel. She didn’t need the cards to tell her that he slept around.

‘Who did you hear that from?’

‘Never mind. Just giving you a reality check. I told you. He’s not a man who has long-term relationships. And he doesn’t go for women that fall in love with him.’

‘How do you know?’

‘Trust me. Get on with your life and let him help you with your book. Much more useful than having your heart broken.’

Chapter 12

What Claudia didn’t say was that after she had read Damien’s cards, he’d confided in her. Said that he’d never been in love since his wife, Laura, took her life.

They’d met at Oxford: Damien had read English and she, history. A glass of wine together and Damien was caught. He was intoxicated by Laura’s brilliant mind, and she with his. He had pursued, wooed and won her, and after university they were married. This was followed by a honeymoon in Capri, which was not as it should have been.

That first night, after dinner, they sat on the vast terrace of their suite, gazing at the magenta starlit sky, with the moon illuminating the Mediterranean below. The gentle waves washed in and out of the shoreline with a whispering sound, like the sweep of mermaids’ tails.

‘Laura,’ Damien said softly. He traced her profile with his finger. ‘I love your sweet nose. What are you thinking?’

‘Please, just give me a moment.’ The beauty of the night had eluded her.

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