Rule's Obsession (16 page)

****

Three days later, when Angie opened her front door to Damian, her hair was back to its normal color, a dirty blonde.

She'd decided to go for the full shock factor, and instead of being covered in black from head to toe, since it was hot and summer was approaching, she was dressed in white, capri-length jeans and a pink, short-sleeve top.

She wore silver jewelry, subdued-to-little make-up, and her fingernails and toes were painted an oyster-shell pink.

Nobody on the street would have recognized her as the same girl she'd been twenty-four hours before.

As she opened the door and stood back with a small smile, the facade of calmness she presented to him was matter-of-fact, but on the inside, she was quaking.

What would he think? She knew she was only pleasantly pretty; there certainly wasn't anything to write home about when it came to her looks. She had an okay body, mostly because she worked hard at it, doing at least forty-five minutes of exercise, following along with the television work-out shows she favored, at least four or five times a week.

But with her make-up understated, this was the real Angie. The person she'd been until the ruse she began about a year before, and the person she'd always intending becoming again.

Of course, he'd seen her without make-up many times, she usually showered after sex, with or without him, so her face itself wouldn't come as a surprise to him. But combined with the dark blonde of her hair, who knew how he'd react? When the bad-girl image disappeared, would his interest take a dive as well?

As she held the door open, the first thing she saw was a swift show of pleasure on his features when his eyes met hers. Angie knew the look was simply from seeing her again, and she couldn't help but feel a trickle of delight when she realized he couldn't contain his feelings for her, whatever they were.

But then he frowned as his eyes ran up and down her length. His body stiffened as if he'd just taken a direct hit. She didn't have time to feel disappointment, though, because he took an immediate step forward and invaded her personal space.

One arm wrapped around her waist and with the other hand, he tipped up her chin. He smiled as if he couldn't help himself, and his eyes ran over her again and then settled on her hair for a moment before his eyes fastened to hers once again. "What's all this?" he asked in a darkly intoxicating voice.

With her heart beating loudly in her ears, Angie took a deep breath and shrugged. "Me."

He frowned as if confused and pleased at the same time, and he shook his head. "No it's not."

She studied him for his reactions. "Yeah, it really is."

Pushing her back to arms length, he spun her around, looking her over as if inspecting every inch of her. When she was facing him again, he lifted one eyebrow and questioned, "Blonde?"

"Dark blonde," she answered, "mousy-brown, really."

He let out a harsh laugh as his eyes continued to gleam. "There's nothing mousy about you."

"No?" she challenged.

He shook his head while his fingers trailed up and sifted through her hair. "This is real? This is really your color?"

"You didn't think it was jet-black, did you?"

"No, I knew it wasn't. Not with your pale skin tone."

When he didn't say anything else, she crossed her arms defensively. "What do you think?"

His hot eyes glowed into hers. "Initially, I'd say I like it." He tipped his head as if debating it and then reached down and snagged her wrist with his hand. "But I need something a little more definitive to go on."

With that, he turned and locked the door and pulled her toward the bedroom, his purpose impossible to miss.

****

Several more weeks slid by and Angie was getting in deep. She was getting in more than deep, she was falling in love hook, line and sinker.

Damn.

What to do . . .
what to do?

Her changed appearance hadn't even been a blip on Damian's radar. He treated her no differently. He looked at her the same way; he made love to her the same way.

So now she knew; it wasn't the dark look that he seemed to crave.
It was her.

And it made her happy, it really did.

But suddenly their torrid, casual
friendship
had turned into a blistering, serious relationship.

Damian seemed to want to spend all their free time together, even when he was travelling. He'd made several trips to New York on business, and since he'd come home from the first trip with a scowl on his face, he'd invited her along on every trip after that. But she'd had to work and couldn't get away, not even once. He'd seemed relatively frustrated with that, but there hadn't been anything she could do about it.

He was scheduled to leave again for a week this afternoon, and Angie knew he was chomping at the bit because he wanted her with him. She admitted to herself that she'd like to go with him on his trip, but she didn't have the vacation time to be with him, and she had to have a job . . . right?

But it was too soon for anything to change between them; she had the thought even as the memory of last night beat through her veins. His lovemaking hadn't cooled a bit since they'd been together. If anything, it grew fiercer by the day.

Last night at his downtown condo had been . . . extreme. She blushed hotly just thinking of it. He'd held her pinned to the bedroom wall the first time, and the second time pinned to the side of the bed itself. And if that hadn't been enough, the third time, he'd carried her to the panoramic window that overlooked the city, and stood her on her feet, facing the glass and the gorgeous, evening sky, while he pressed his chest against her back and ordered her to keep her eyes open.

The memory washed over her. The room had been dark. They could see out, but no one would have been able to see in, even if they hadn't been twenty stories high. She'd been overly sensitive from the earlier sessions in his bedroom, but he'd taken his time with her, going down on his haunches and forcing her legs apart while he played with her, readying her for his entry.

He'd stood up, adjusted her stance and plunged in from behind. She'd sucked in a breath as sensation slid down her spine. He'd come twice already in the last couple of hours, so he was leisurely in his seduction. As he moved slowly within her, his hands gripped her hips and his mouth trailed kisses along her neck that landed at her ear. "Are your eyes open?"

"Yes."

"Tell me what you see."

Angie could barely get her thoughts in order as he pushed slowly in and out, moving inexorably within her. "I see . . . lights. And buildings. Clouds. It's . . . it's beautiful."

"You're
beautiful," he whispered. He pushed inside and held himself there, his hands coming in front to cup her breasts, his hands sliding sinuously, almost reverently, back and forth over her skin.

Her breath caught in her throat.

Slowly, he slid the hair back from her ear and whispered, "So,
so
beautiful."

The caress of his voice sent shivers down her spine and she reacted with a small moan.

"I can give you that view, Angie."

Her mind almost splintering with his hands so gentle, she barely comprehended his words. "What?"

"All you have to do is move in here with me," he said softly as his hands ran down her sides and back up again.

"I don't . . . " Angie couldn't think and her words stumbled to a halt.

His mouth slid to her shoulder and he bit into her flesh as if to subdue her. She didn't need subduing; she was pliant in his arms. He took tiny bites with his teeth, then lifted his mouth and blew on her flesh as if to soothe her. "I love your skin." He licked the spot he'd bitten. "I love your scent, baby. You're so
fucking sweet."
He pulled his hips back and plunged back inside. "I love it when you come." His mouth moved to her ear and he bit her lobe and his voice when it came was stronger, almost harsh. "I love that you don't say the word 'no' to me."

He pulled out, flipped her around until her naked backside was pressed against the cold glass. He lifted her leg and then he plunged back inside. The sensation of the cold at her back and his heat at her front had the oxygen snarling in her lungs.

He held himself within her and lifted her chin with his fingers until she had no choice but to stare up at him. "I want you to move in here with me. I want you to give up your apartment." The tone of seduction left his voice, his words becoming inflexible in his demand.

As she stared up at him, a current of both pleasure and panic slid through her system. She remained silent, and he continued, "When I get home from work, I want you to be here. I want you to sleep in my bed every night without question. I want to know where you are and that you're safe when I'm not with you."

With his words, his strokes became stronger, more determined, and full-blown arousal came roaring back. His fingers left her chin and together, they looked down at where they were joined. The sight was more than erotic; it was profoundly sexual and within mere minutes, they were exploding in each other's arms as the wave crashed over them both.

In the next moments, he'd carefully released her and balanced her on her feet. He'd led her to the bathroom where he'd cleaned her up gently and patiently. When she'd climbed into bed on legs that trembled, he'd followed her there and had taken her into his arms.

She was lying on her back and he turned to face her. Propping himself up on an elbow, he leaned over her. "I want an answer."

Torn by conflicting feelings, she tried to answer him, "I don't know. It's a lot to think about."

"No, it's not. It's simple . . . nothing to think about," he shot back, determination lacing his words.

Angie held onto her resolve by thinking of the logistics. "The salon is so far away from here."

His eyes glittered but he remained silent. Watching him, it hit her all at once and she blurted out, "You want me to quit my job."

He inclined his head but said nothing, only continued to watch her with his hawk-like eyes.

"I don't know if I can get another one around here," she replied, knowing damn good and well she was feeling him out, trying to get inside his head to find out what he was thinking.

His eyes narrowed and he began shaking his head, slowly, back and forth.

"I have to work," she said, half-panicked.

He continued to shake his head.

Deep.
This shit was getting deep. "I don't have any money. I mean, not enough--"

"You don't need any money, Angie. You don't need anything." His words were firm, ringing with conviction.

She took a stabilizing breath, forcing herself to calm down. "You want to support me?"

"Yes," he replied unequivocally.

"Why?" She couldn't get too excited here. She knew him. This would be nothing more than a convenience for him. It wasn't as if he wanted marriage. He wanted convenience and she needed to remember that.

"Because I want you here," he said tonelessly, as if he was tired of the debate and didn't want her to question him further.

She remained quiet for a moment. "I'll have to think about it."

His eyes had narrowed as if pissed or displeased. He'd rolled over, switched off the lamp and Angie had tossed and turned and had gotten very little sleep at all.

****

When her cell phone rang, Angie came back to reality. It was Damian's mother, and she slid the bar to answer. She saw the time and knew he'd be boarding a plane for New York about now. They hadn't resolved anything between them last night.

"Hello," she announced, putting the phone between her shoulder and her ear as she used the opportunity to tidy up her station.

"Hi, darling. How are you?"

Guilt rushed through her. She was beside herself . . . trying to figure out if she should move in with this woman's son. "I'm great," she lied. "And you?"

"Very well. The romance thrives," the older woman said with a hint of humor.

"That is great, then."

"Yes, it is. Listen darling, I'm having a little get together Saturday night and I really, really want you to stop by after you get off work if you can. It's nothing formal . . . not a sit-down meal. Just drinks and finger foods."

A tiny trickle of unease slid down Angie's spine. Damian wouldn't be there but that shouldn't matter. In fact it should be easier as he still didn't want his mother to know about their relationship.

And besides, Angie liked his mother and was pleased that the older woman seemed to care for her as well. "Sounds fun. Should I bring anything?"

"Not a thing. Now I want to warn you that Damian won't be coming. I don't know if you've spoken to him, but he'll be out of town."

Guilt. Guilt. Guilt
. She remained silent and after an abbreviated pause, Mrs. Rule continued, "Anyway, Rick wants to be introduced to a few of my favorite people, and you're on the list, darling. But not only that, he knows you as well so it would be nice for him to see a familiar face, don't you think?"