Page 161 of Damaged Mogul
I’m dying to know, but I’m only passing through town. These people don’t owe me their life story. Still, my heart bleeds for Gage.
“I know too well how devastating it is to lose a mother,” I say. “From the little he’s told me about his parents, I don’t think Gage lost his mom at a young age like I did.” I swallow past the lump of emotions. “It doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt like hell each time you’re flooded with memories of the woman who loved you unconditionally, and who was taken away too soon.”
Dominika’s eyes hold mine. “We all have scars. Few of us are lucky enough to only have them on the outside. For most of us, our scars are buried deep––”
“For some deeper than others.”
“Truer words have never been spoken.” She lifts her sleeve, revealing the full effect of her colorful tattooed arm.
“Oh, wow, that’s stunning. You’re so brave. I’m way too chicken. That must’ve hurt.”
“It hurts less than the actual scars.” She traces a manicured finger along her arm.
Her skin is uneven.
My eyes fly up to meet hers. “You were hurt?”
“An evilman hurt me.”
I bring both hands to my heart. “I’m so sorry a despicable person did that to you.”
“The pain from the injury and the tattoo needle subside.”
I shift on my seat.
This is heavy conversation for a light-hearted brunch.
“Physical scars, heal. The scars that are here”—she taps against her temple—“and here”—she taps against her heart—“can hurt for a lifetime.”
“I don’t have any physical scars, but I have plenty here.” I tap against my heart.
“Welcome to the club.”
This woman, who from the outside has it all, carries baggage?
“All that to say, Gage has his fair share of scars.” She purses her lips. “For three years he’s denied himself pleasure.”
Is she talking about fun, or sex? It has to be the former.
“He’s a stoic beast clad in bespoke suits with anguish swimming in his gorgeous green eyes,” she says. “Anguish that runs so deep, no one could touch it. Heal it. That’s until you came crashing into his life…”
My heart flutters like crazy.
I don’t dare say a word.
“That was quite the statement he made at Rhys’s party,” she says.
A telltale flush spreads up to my hairline. “He wanted to talk in private.”
Gage wasn’t subtle that night. Damn caveman.
“Right.” Dominika nods. “And I’m about to give birth to the heir of the British Crown”—she caresses her belly—“instead of the first born to a reformed bad boy.”
Busted.
“You have a positive effect on our grumpy giant.”She smiles.
I’m shellshocked.
