Page 93 of A Night with Damien Spur

‘This is tedious, Damien. Stop.’

He seized her hands and held them to his cheek. ‘I can’t. I love you.’

Bingo!said the Voice.You smashed it. Finally made a full-blown arsehole of yourself.

Why did he take it further? He just couldn’t stop. He was in free fall.

Elizabeth watched the emotions chase across Damien’s face. Why had she given Chang the night off? She didn’t feel safe. His unbridled overflow of emotion suffocated her. Made her feel nauseous. And this was what he called love.

‘Say it,’ he repeated, and squeezed her hands to his breast.

‘I don’t love you,’ she said, ‘but that doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy your company. It never worried you before. Did you ever love any of the women you slept with? I thought you and I were made of the same metal.’

‘We are. That’s why I want to marry you.’

Ooh, big mistake!groaned the Voice.

‘Please, no. To spend a lifetime watching your partner decay is not for me.’

Damien had withdrawn his hands from hers and grasped his head in despair. A terrible mistake.

He was like all those women he’d caught in his net and thrown back in the sea because they had become needy, wanting more – and now, Sod’s law, it was he who was drowning.

Mindful of his dangerous mood, she said, ‘Come on, Damien, cool down. Let’s have a nightcap,’ and she slipped out of bed.

‘Thanks,’ he said.

Clever Elizabeth knew how to change his mood. Just in case love turned to hate, she slipped her mobile into the pocket of her dressing gown. Chang would be home soon and then she could send Damien on his way.

He looked at the floor, his eyes glazed.

‘Elizabeth,’ he said, ‘can you forgive me?’

‘For what?’

‘For falling in love with you. For boring you. For being a romantic idiot.’

Elizabeth, high priestess, was taking his confessional.

It reminded him of the time he went to confession after Laura had died. He’d read the priest a list of names of the women he’d slept with while she was alive. It had cost him ten Hail Marys and a Glory Be to free him to sin again.

He had a dangerous look on his face. Elizabeth patted her mobile. He needed defusing.

She took two glasses and poured a tot of cognac in each. ‘Yes, I forgive you. A toast to good friends with boundaries. Chin-chin.’

They clinked, her steely gaze holding his just long enough to give him no hope of ever being loved by her.

***

Next morning, Elizabeth called. ‘Damien, I’m so sorry to let you down at the last moment, but I think it’s best that I go withJavier to Anna’s wedding.’

‘Who’s Javier?’ Damien said.

Not clever, said the Voice.You’re digging your own grave. She’s going to enjoy tormenting you.

‘A very close friend who understands me,’ she replied.

‘Elizabeth, is this because of last night?’

---