Page 48 of Damon

“Caring for a baby isn’t easy,” he says sympathetically. “I’ve discovered that myself these past months. But you’ll learn; that’s why Mrs. D is here. This is a short-term solution until we find Moreno and remove him once and for all. Then you can go back to independent living and your career.” He gently places my feet on the floor to stand. His hand remains on my back as I find my balance, then he removes all contact, stepping backward. The space between us opens and the chill of loss sweeps across my skin. “You don’t need to worry about me. I’m not your responsibility to be concerned about; just look after my daughter. Now, get to bed,” he says firmly before turning away from me and looking down into the crib.

I stand and stare at his back for a few moments, not wanting to leave. His eyes remain fixed on the sleeping baby, and his hands rise to rest on the side of the bed. He wraps strong fingers around the wooden bar. There is no sound except our individual breaths and the soft snores from Annie.

“Goodnight, Emma,” he states without as much as a glance. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Goodnight, Damon,” I whisper, then scurry to my room.

***

The following morning, I wake as sunshine pours through the crack in the long dark curtains. I’m lying on my front with the sheets twisted around my legs. When I glance at the clock on my bedside table, the time of ten in the morning blinks back at me. Shit, I slept in. Why the hell did my alarm not wake me at six? After lifting my phone, I see that the alarm has been snoozed to not sound until eleven. I don’t remember doing that.

Panicked, I scramble from the bed and grab my robe from behind the door. After throwing it on, I rush downstairs in search of someone to apologize to for my lateness. Mrs. D is standing at the stove in the kitchen stirring a large pot. The smell of curried spices fills the room and hits my nostrils hard.

“Good morning, Mrs. D,” I stammer as I almost run into the kitchen. She turns to face me and smiles broadly. “Where is Annie?” My question is answered by a gurgle from the playmat spread out on the floor under the window. Annie lies on her back and reaches for the brightly colored toys suspended above her head.

“Good morning, dear,” she says. “As you can see, Annie is fed, changed, and settled. I am preparing lunch and you’ve had a good rest for once.”

“I am so sorry,” I begin, and she lifts a hand.

“There’s no need to apologize. From what I understand, Chief Constable McKinney altered your alarm while you slept. He wanted you to sleep but knew you wouldn’t agree.” Her smile widens. “He said you had a late night, and some extended time in bed would be beneficial for you.”

“He was the one who returned home at three this morning,” I snap, annoyed that Damon entered my room and changed my alarm time without my knowledge. “He’s the one that needs a lie in.”

“That’s why I’m only heading to the office now,” his deep voice says behind me. My whole body tenses, caught between anxiety and arousal. When I turn around, he’s standing in the doorway surveying the scene in front of him. He’s dressed relatively casual in dark jeans, a black cashmere sweater, and boots. I pull my robe tighter around me to disguise my pert nipples bumping under my thin clothing. “But I wasn’t the one who spent half the night on the floor.” My eyes narrow in annoyance as amusement flickers across his face. “Anyway, I’ll be off. Thank you, Mrs. D, for this morning.”

He walks over to where his daughter lies and kneels down. Then leans forward, pressing his lips to her bare stomach, and blows a raspberry against her skin. She shrieks with glee and kicks her legs merrily with the sensation. He stands then walks in my direction. My mind wanders, and I imagine those lips blowing air against my skin. My pussy contracts with the dirty thought. He stops a few feet from me, astute eyes boring into mine. Every nerve in my body awakens, alert and alive, waiting for his next move.

“I’ll see you tonight,” he says. “We can have dinner together and catch up about your week so far. I shouldn’t be so late. I’ll order a pizza.”

“No, I’ll cook,” I retort. “There’s plenty of food in the fridge.” He rolls his eyes but decides not to argue. Then his attention moves to Mrs. D, who is watching our interaction with a poorly hidden smirk.

“Pedantic,” he says to her, and she hoots.

“Strong willed is a better description,” she corrects him.

“Stubborn,” he counters.

“I’m standing right here,” I snap and they both laugh.

“See you later, Spitfire,” he says flashing me a grin and leaves.

As the door closes behind him, I turn to the older woman in the room. I wonder what she thinks about the scene she just witnessed. She looks from me to the door to the bubbly baby on the floor then back to me. “Yes,” she says softly to herself. “This may all work out just fine.”

Damon has only been gone for an hour when my unexpected visitor appears. As I run down the stairs from Annie’s room, after placing her in her crib to answer the doorbell, Mrs. D beats me to it. She pulls the door open to reveal Harrison standing on the other side. I stop dead, my back foot still attached to the bottom step. The staircase is located to the side of the hallway, so he can’t see me, but I have a view of him standing at the entrance to the house.

“Good morning, Mrs. D,” he says, embracing the older woman then kissing her cheek. “Is Emma home?”

“Yes,” she replies, surprise clear in her tone. Her gaze moves in my direction, and I swallow. I haven’t spoken to Harrison properly since I discovered that he had Moreno released. Until Damon unearthed my true identity, I was unable to tackle him on the subject. And since then, I have had no motivation to do so, being relatively comfortable in my current bubble living in Damon’s house.

His focus follows the direction of Mrs. D’s, he steps forward into the hallway and his eyes land on me. “Emma,” he says, politely. “I am sorry for turning up unannounced, but I wanted to discuss something that has been brought to my attention with you.”

“And what would that be?” I ask, completing my descent then striding over to stand in front of him. Still dressed in my nightwear, I once again cross my arms over my chest. His expression is neutral, so I stare at him with a scowl, wanting him to know I’m pissed about something.

“Probably the same topic you’re thinking about, judging by the way you’re looking at me.”

“And how am I looking at you?” I say shortly.

“Like a cat pissed in your shoe.” Taken aback by the joke, I laugh and a tiny smile flutters on his lips. “But seriously Emma, I need to speak to you about Samson Moreno.”

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