Sinclair Duet

Chapter 6

Gabriella

The gala proceeded like the well-oiled machine it was. VIPs and donors arrived. The bars were stocked, and the waiters were plentiful, circulating with trays of champagne and others with hors d'oeuvres. Even though I hadn't spent the flight going over the guest list, this was my third gala, and I recognized most of the guests.

There was the one new face.

And every time I turned, it seemed that Damien was near.

Whether I was talking with a guest, a hotel employee, or an associate, his shimmering, protective gaze was on me. I felt his presence even when I didn't see him.

The cocktail hour was a success as Niles and I worked the room along with other associates from other offices. At our pre-dinner huddle, we calculated that we secured enough donations to carry Beta Kappa Phi through the first two quarters of next year. It was a start.

By the time I made it to my table, mine was the only empty seat.

Somehow, the place cards had been moved, landing me at Damien's side.

“Strange," I whispered to Damien. “It seems my place card was moved."

“Your lucky day."

“Gabriella," Donovan Sherman said, offering me his hand. “I've heard many good things about you."

It took every ounce of self-control not to look over at Damien. He and Donovan were friends. I could only imagine what he'd heard.

Instead, I pressed on. “Mr. Sherman, thank you again for attending this event. Beta Kappa Phi appreciates your support."

“Ms. Crystal."

I turned to see Walter Phillips, another VIP donor, standing behind my chair. “Mr. Phillips."

“You know my name is Walter." He smiled, his wrinkles growing deeper. “I was disappointed to hear you weren't presenting my award."

“Oh, there was a big fight." I lifted my eyebrows. “I lost."

He patted my shoulder. “Then I insist on a dance."

“Of course."

As the nearly eighty-year-old man walked away, Damien leaned close to my ear. “Your dance card is full."

“Mr. Phillips is hardly a threat."

Damien's smile quirked. “Maybe not, but I'll be standing by."

Bread, followed by salads, followed by side dishes and entrees—I watched the room as I participated in the conversation at our table. Unlike the last two galas, I'd been put in charge of the planning committee. I'd put more effort into arranging this gala than flying in at the last minute. And as the evening progressed, the hard work and planning were paying off.

After the awards and speeches, a dividing wall moved. A dance floor appeared as the room darkened, and the air filled with the sounds of a string quartet.

“I'm going to guess that leaving early isn't an option," Damien whispered.

“You may leave whenever you want."

“Not a chance. I made an offer. I won't be stepping away prematurely."

“To walk me back to my room?"

His smile grew. “That's part of it."

With the rumble of his voice and the curl of his smile, my insides twisted, and my n*****s tightened. Nevertheless, I did my best to appear unaffected. “No worries, Niles can escort me."

Donovan Sherman cleared his throat. “Damien, thank you for making the trip. I'm afraid I'm not much of a dancer without my wife."

Damien stood and shook Donovan's hand. “Coffee in the morning."

Donovan nodded and turned to me. “Gabriella, it was a pleasure. I will match last year's donation. Wade Pharmaceutical is pleased to help Beta Kappa Phi with their objectives."

Match.

His match would bring us very close to our goal.

“Thank you, Mr. Sherman."

“Van, please. Any friend of Damien's…"

“Van," I said, “Please give your wife our best. We hope she can make it next year."

“I'll let her know."

“How much more do you need?" Damien asked.

I shook my head. “I'm not taking your money."

“Then I'll talk to Niles."

“No. This is my job," I said, standing.

Damien met me as we both stood. “You're fantastic, Ella. Even though Van left me here alone, I'm not leaving until you do."

“Those boys are probably sleeping it off by now."

His expression remained unchanged.

“Okay," I said with a shake of my head. “Let me work."

“I'd never stop you."

Wasn't that what I worried about, part of why I walked away?

“Gabriella," Mr. Phillips said, miming a dance step or two.

Damien reached for my hand and whispered, “If he grabs your ass, I'm taking him down."

Mr. Phillips was probably a hundred thirty-five pounds soaking wet. If he grabbed my ass, I could take him down myself.

Two hours later, as the lights brightened on the mostly empty ballroom and my feet ached from the shoes, I smiled at Niles and our associates. We'd done it. Not only had the night gone well, but we'd exceeded our fundraising goal.

“How about a drink?" Niles asked.

“I'm exhausted. And" —I looked down and back up— “these shoes need to go."

“I never asked. How was your flight?"

My gaze went to the handsome man leaning against the wall with his arms folded over his chest and his ankles crossed. “I was upgraded."

“Seems like your lucky day."

“Seems like it." I laid my hand on his arm. “Goodnight, Niles. Send me the numbers in the morning. I'll put it all together and we can regroup on Monday at the office."

Niles nodded. “See you, Ella."

Sitting at a table as hotel employees stripped tablecloths away and moved furniture, I slipped my feet from my shoes and sighed. As I looked down at my feet and wiggled my toes, an expensive pair of leather loafers came into view. When I glanced up, Damien was standing with my clutch in his hand.

“I'll trade you," he said, handing the small purse to me.

Maybe I was too tired to argue. Or perhaps it was nice to have someone wait for me. Whatever the reason, I took the clutch and passed my shoes to Damien. As I stood, he offered me his arm.

“This is nice," I said as we made our way out of the ballroom and down the empty hallways.

His lips came to my hair with a soft kiss. “I never forgot how great you are, Ella. But watching you tonight, I'm damn impressed and proud of you."

It was a simple statement, yet hearing it warmed me from within.

How does he have that ability?

A simple statement: I'm proud. Good girl. And my mind was goo.

Once inside the empty elevator, I laid my head against his arm. “I think I could sleep standing up."

I gasped as in a smooth, fluid move, Damien lifted my chin, pressed himself against me, and sandwiched me between the shiny wall and his solid chest. With his intense gaze on me, his nostrils flared, and his square jaw clenched.

My lungs burned as my breathing hitched. “Damien, I can't—"

Moving his touch from my chin to the back of my neck, Damien took my lips possessively with a kiss that stole the remainder of my thoughts. Our faces moved as our lips battled each other's and sounds of lust filled the air.

In only seconds, my body awakened. Sparks grew to flames as a wildfire rushed through me, tightening my n*****s, twisting my core, and dampening my p***y. Without hesitation, my hands came to his lapels, grasping the material, pulling him closer, me closer, us closer.

My thoughts were scattered as his kiss consumed me.

It wasn't until the elevator stopped that we broke free from one another.

Using his hand holding my shoes, he reached out, keeping the doors open. At the same time, Damien ran his thumb over my bruised lips and moved his focus to my eyes. “You were saying?"

Smoldering desire clouded my mind.

“I don't remember."

He took my hand in his, and we stepped from the elevator.

“We could go to my room, or you can tell me where your room is."

No. Going to his room was a bad idea.

My room.

Alone.

That was the plan.

“This way," I said, tugging his hand.

As we approached the door to my suite, I slowed our steps.

This was a dream, and I didn't want it to end.

But end it would.

Damien knew the secrets to my desires. He'd fanned the flames capable of consuming me. His kiss was only the start. If I allowed this to go further, for him to enter my suite, he'd consume me, sucking me into the depths of his stare.

“Damien," I said, lifting my chin.

His finger came to my lips. “f**k, Ella. I've missed you." He looked into my eyes. “Tell me you haven't missed me."

I had.

I'd tried to forget the passion.

I had—for a while.

Lowering his finger, he came closer. This kiss was softer.

“I've missed you. I want you," I confessed. “It's taken me over two years to forget you…"

“I never forgot you."

Inhaling, I shook my head. “I'm still trying. If I let you in tonight, it will take me back to the beginning. I can't do that. I won't be a lucky one-night stand, not with you."

“It won't be like that."

I brushed my lips over his stubbly cheek and gathered my shoes and satchel. “Call me, Damien."

“Will you answer?"

I hadn't.

Two years ago, I'd refused his calls and deleted his text messages.

The green light flashed on my door as I tapped the key. With a smile over my shoulder, I answered, “There's only one way to find out."