Serenity clutched her pocketbook like it might be an orange life ring as she stood in the lobby of her own spa. The staff was turning off the lights and finishing for the day.
Soon, she’d need to interview people to replace her best friend, but not now. Her heart was still too raw and Damien was late. Serenity paced back and forth in her crystallized heels Kiwi had given her for tonight that made her legs seem even longer and her dress hit her at the thigh.
If she intended to tell her husband that there would be no more presents and that she wanted a divorce then she’d dressed wrong. The blue sheath made her feel available and sexy. She stared through the glass doors. Perhaps she should change. Where was he? Was this payback? Damien, in all of his notes, hadn’t mentioned love. She fingered the diamond necklace he’d sent and stopped. Did he think he could buy her?
If he wanted to see her like this, he needed to show up, fast.
Kiwi waved at her as she took the receipts from the lobby staff. No one said a word on how she was dressed tonight. Her stomach churned with nerves.
She’d just made up her mind to ditch the fancy clothes when car lights flashed outside the glass doors.
Damien was here. She tugged the bottom of her dress and ensured her makeup was flawless in the mirror.
The doors opened and Damien, dressed in an all black suit clearly tailored for him, came inside. He touched his white tie and came right toward her. She held her breath, unsure what she'd do if he kissed her because her lips tingled for him. "Damien."
He stopped and offered her his arm though his gaze went up and down her body. "Serenity, you look great."
"I'm ready for dinner, as you requested."
He leaned closer and whispered so only she heard, "Would it be wrong to kiss you right now?"
She snapped her head away. Not here. Not now. She lowered her gaze. "I thought we were starting over, this time without me falling overboard."
"No yachts for us tonight. I swear." He led her toward a black limo that waited outside.
"Good." He held open the door for her and waited for her to get inside. Once she was seated, he followed and nodded at the driver.
He closed the partition and held out his hand for her. "Come closer. This was made for ten but I want to talk to you."
Her pulse zipped with electricity and she slid closer to him. He must want an explanation in more detail about why she'd run. She stared into his warm brown eyes. Hope grew in her heart as she accepted the truth: she was definitely in love with him. "Damien, I compared you to our fathers when I was stuck on the island."
He leaned his forehead on hers. "I'm sorry you were hurt."
She closed her eyes though her heart begged for him. Perhaps she needed to start at the beginning. "I wasn't hurt physically, not really. I don’t have any bruises on my face, but I was wet, and I was angry. They came into our bedroom, where I was still putting my makeup on and they wanted vengeance against you. I wanted to protect our baby."
He kissed her forehead and her lips tingled. "I should have been there to protect you and our baby."
Her brain raced for a reason to explain why she left. Her temples ached. "You shouldn't have put yourself on the line at all."
"I'll never forgive myself for what happened to you. I'm sorry."
Sorry was what he said that first night too when he spoke about her father. She lost any channel of her anger and, more important, she lost her ability to argue. If she loved him, she needed to forgive him too. Her heart whispered love was possible. She squeezed his hand. "I believe you."
"We're almost there." His lips went lower.
His warm breath and tempting body were her anchors. She pressed herself closer to him and ran her hands through his coarse dark hair and met his lips with her own.
The limo stopped and Damien ended the kiss. As he fixed his tie, she touched her necklace. "Where are we?"
"Fairchild." He opened his door.
The parking lot of the botanical gardens had no cars in it. She followed him out the limo and tried to keep the conversation light. "This explains why we went south. I haven't been here in a long time."
He offered her his arm. "It's not open to the public tonight."
She suspected he'd bought out the park or brought her after hours. She wasn't sure but she looked at the parking lot and gave one of her options a voice. "They usually close slightly early in the winter, not that we have a real one here, ever. But if they're closed, why are we going?"
"I have a surprise for you." He pointed toward the main building that usually housed weddings. The huge chandelier caught her attention as did the white table clothes on all the tables with gold chairs.
The dance floor had uplights that made the place feel intimate. A few were on her want list but didn't make sense for her spa. She told Damien as she examined the room, "The lights are beautiful."
"Come." He led her to one of the tables near the gazebo.
As they were already married, none of the decorations were for her. She scooted her chair closer to him. "Oh Damien, it looks like it's decorated for a wedding."
"Tonight. It's for us." He winked.
Surely this was for someone else tomorrow. What if they came to inspect and found them intruding? She stood. "We don't need-"
He took her hand and motioned for her to sit again. "I told you. We're recreating our first date. The one that started with you flirting with my half-brother."
They'd met on the yacht for Peter’s wedding. True. She retook her seat, and her knees pressed into his thighs. "Matthew? He wasn't interested in me."
His lips curled into a smile. "Lucky for me you didn't notice."
Matthew was nice to her and funny, but there wasn't any chemistry between them. He’d seemed more brotherly, even when they weren't related. She was shocked that their joking had made Damien jealous. "Was that why you were super rude? You were jealous?"
His face darkened. "Tonight is a do-over, but to answer your question I absolutely was—I didn't want Matthew to get you." She hadn't expected that.
But then he held out his hand to shake. "Nice to meet you, Miss. I'm Damien Morgan, a half-brother of the groom."
She leaned closer, gave him a partial smile and repeated what she overheard him tell Jennifer. "Nice to meet you. I want to say that I'm not your type."
His eyes narrowed. "What type is that?"
Serenity Hansom is probably a vapid, high maintenance, socialite. The ones that look like her usually are. She repeated his every word in her mind, but then said, "I hope we both know I'm not vapid, high maintenance or much of a socialite. I like working, and there are none like me."
Now a red stain covered his cheeks. "I was a total jerk. I'm sorry."
If he hadn't been that rude, she'd probably never have noticed him or let herself react when they spoke later in the night. Part of her now admitted she'd wanted to prove him wrong about her. She let out a sigh and stood, holding her hand for him to join her as she said, "I also told you that I saw you when I was seventeen at one of my father's social parties. What I didn't say was that I was instantly attracted to you and disappointed when you didn't notice me."
He followed her onto the dance floor. The last time she'd been overcome with passion and wanted his touch all over her. This time, she just wanted to sway with him. He didn't object, but stopped at the DJ stand and pressed a button. The same song that played that night rang in the air now. He then wrapped his arm around her waist and led her in a formal dance. "I was an idiot who stayed far away from good girls, and Serenity, you're the leader of good girls. But now I want no one else."
The smell of his skin with a slight almond scent meant he’d taken his time today to get ready for her. Her heart melted in his arms. All she wanted was him. Perhaps in time, they could have it all. "Damien, I need you to swear you'll never put yourself or me in danger again."
He twirled her around the floor but held his hand up, like he was taking an oath. "I won't. I swear. Police work can be left to professionals."
No one else she knew would have even tried to do what he’d done to save those women. She lowered her head, and held onto his shoulder. "On the other hand, you did a good job stopping the human trafficking. I can't imagine any woman suffering like that. I was so scared on that ship."
Once again, he moved her on the floor and the music changed to a slower pace. As his hands wrapped around her, he said, "I'm proud that my wife was brave enough to escape and swim away. Gilbert told me he killed you and threw you overboard so I was afraid I'd only find your body."
None of that mattered now. Her heart constricted as she remembered his face when she’d asked for a divorce. She lifted her chin and met his gaze. "Let's never talk about that guy, ever again."
His fingers wrapped around hers. "Fair enough. Am I forgiven, Serenity?"
She wanted to ask about love, but her lips remained sealed on the subject. She never had love, not the real kind, but it felt awkward to bring it up now. She met his gaze and melted. She had to follow her heart, which wanted him. "Yes. Damien, I want you too. That was never the problem."
Without another word he kissed her deeply, just as he had the night on the yacht. Her entire body heated as she held him close. He whispered, "Then let's get out of here."
"Okay." Tonight, she admitted to herself that she was knee deep in love with Damien and she'd give their marriage a chance. If they found a way to work, she'd have something she never thought possible... him, and it was enough.