Surrender Under His Command

midnight comfort

Damien frowned as he pulled into the parking lot of an all-night diner.

“What are you doing?” Jessa asked. This wasn’t where she’d asked to be dropped off. She’d given him the address of some apartments close to the diner where she worked.

“I don’t know about you but I could use some coffee and pie. Join me?”

Her stomach clenched at the thought—when was the last time she’d eaten a slice of pie? Most of her meals were taken at the shelter, or were cheap slices of pizza and other fast food.

“Yeah, okay.”

Damien got out of the car. She undid her seatbelt, reaching down to grab her backpack. It held everything she currently owned in the world—a scary thought if she let herself think about it for too long.

Damien opened her door. How long had it been since a man had held open a door for her?

Victor had opened doors for her when they’d been dating. And during their marriage he had acted chivalrous around others. But he’d never meant it.

Stupid b***h, all you’re good for is sucking my d**k.

“Jessa? What’s wrong?”

Snapped out of her memory by Damien’s concerned voice, she glanced up at him in surprise. “What? Oh, nothing. Sorry, I was thinking about something else.”

“Didn’t look like a pleasant thought,” he replied, opening the diner door and gesturing her to go in. It was slightly less rundown on the inside than on the outside, although that wasn’t saying much. But it was warm, and while the vinyl seats were worn and the decor hadn’t been updated since the eighties, it had a cozy feel.

Jessa sat on one side of a booth as Damien squeezed himself into the other side. Booths just weren’t made for someone of Damien’s height. He sat down, resting an arm along the back of the seat.

“This doesn’t seem to be your sort of place,” she commented.

It was obvious that Damien had money. His car, his clothing, just the way he acted—all pointed to someone wealthy. So why would he choose to eat here?

Victor would never step foot in a place like this; he’d be too worried about dirtying his Armani suit or getting food poisoning. Since she’d left him, Jessa had discovered that places like this often had the best sort of people and food.

“And what is my sort of place?” he asked, his lips tilting up in amusement. He was gorgeous. His body was lean but muscular; a few days’ growth covered his face, adding to his appeal as those dark brown eyes stared at her.

Her whole body tingled.

Calm down. He might be the sexiest man she’d ever seen. But he was also a stranger—a rich, self-assured stranger. She needed to be more cautious. She couldn’t trust him. She couldn’t trust anyone.

“I don’t know, maybe a gentleman’s club with lots of dark leather sofas and men smoking cigars and sipping expensive whiskey.”

He barked out a laugh. “Hate to tell you, love, but I don’t smoke cigars nor have I ever been to a gentleman’s club.”

“Damien!”

Jessa glanced up in surprise as a waitress, a huge smile on her face, approached them. Damien smiled up at the plump woman who looked to be in her late forties.

“Alice, how are you?”

“I’m good thanks. How’s Nora?”

“She’s great. Settling in to her new house,” Damien replied.

Who was Nora? His wife?

“Well, tell her I said hi next time you see her.” The waitress turned to look at Jessa.

“Alice, this is my friend, Jessa.”

“Pleased to meet you, Jessa. Can I get you your usual, Damien?”

“That would be great. Jessa, what would you like?”

“I’ll just have coffee, thanks.”

She felt slightly ashamed of herself for judging Damien based on his appearance.

Damien stared at her for a long moment. “Bring us two slices of pie, please, Alice.”

Jessa glared at him. “I said I wanted coffee.”

He shrugged. “If you can’t eat it, then you can take it home.”

Jessa took a deep breath, searching for calm. She hated being controlled. Been there. Done that. Never going back.

“So, who’s Nora?” Drat, she hadn’t meant to ask that.

Damien’s face lightened as he smiled. “Nora is my sister-in-law, although we’re closer than that. More like brother and sister. She also works for me. She just got married a few months ago. Good guy, even if he does live miles away, by Waco.”

“You miss her.”

He nodded. “She drives in three times a week, then works from home the rest of the time.”

Alice brought over the coffee and then quickly returned with two huge slices of apple pie. The scent of cinnamon and pastry made Jessa’s mouth water, and almost before she knew what she was doing, she had scooped some up on a fork and into her mouth, closing her eyes in pleasure as the pie hit her taste buds.

“Good, right?” Damien said.

She opened her eyes, blushing slightly as she realized the sight she must have made.

“It’s delicious, best I’ve ever had.” Not that she’d eaten a lot of pie in her life. Her mother, then Victor, had kept a close eye on her diet. But they weren’t here anymore; Jessa could eat what she liked. And this pie was worth every penny she would be spending on it, even though she was trying to save every spare bit of cash she made.

She needed to see if Ethan had any spare shifts at the diner she worked at. She couldn’t work anywhere that needed details like a social security number and address. Ethan never asked her for any personal details, he paid in cash, and when she worked a shift she got a free meal. At the moment, it was the most she could hope for.

“I hope Cece is going to be all right,” she said as she pushed the plate away, the slice of pie only half-eaten. She was full.

“Who is Cece and why were those reporters there?”

“You really don’t know who she is?” Jessa asked.

He shook his head.

“She’s a singer, really popular at the moment. You know, she sings that song, Raven’s Heart?”

Again, he shook his head, so Jessa sung him a few lines. He watched her intently.

“That was beautiful.”

She nodded. “Cece is a great songwriter.”

“No, not the song. Your voice. You have a fantastic voice.”

Jessa shrugged, blushing slightly.

“Officer Mast seemed to think she would be fine,” Damien said, finishing off his slice of pie. “I’d like to know what caused her to crash.”

“I guess we’ll find out tomorrow; it’s bound to be all over the news.”

“I noticed you didn’t want to stick around once the reporters appeared,” Damien said, leaning back. He sipped slowly on his coffee. “You camera shy?”

“Something like that,” she said warily. “I’m kind of tired; do you think we can get going?”

“Sure thing, love. My apologies. I shouldn’t be keeping you out so late. I’ll get Alice to box the rest of your pie up for you.”

He rose and grabbed the plates, taking them to the counter. When he returned a minute or so later, he had a small brown box in his hand.

He held out a hand to her and after a moment’s hesitation, she took it, allowing him to help her stand.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

“Umm, yeah. Oh, let me get some cash.”

Damien just placed his hand on her lower back, steering her away. “No need. All taken care of.”

“Oh, well, let me pay you back.”

“Don’t even think about reaching for your wallet. When you’re out with me, Jessa, I pay.”

“This wasn’t a date,” she said as they stepped outside. Drat, it had grown colder. She was going to have to start getting to the shelter earlier so she could claim a bed.

Damien held open the passenger door for her, handing her the box once she had buckled her seatbelt. “I know. But that doesn’t matter. When a woman is out with me, I pay. I don’t care who they are.”

He closed the door and walked around the car to the driver’s side.

“Damien?” she queried, feeling ungrateful all of a sudden.

“Yes?”

“Thank you. The pie was delicious and just what I needed.”

Even in the limited light from the diner, she saw him relax. “You’re welcome. It may not have been the most ideal circumstances, but I’m glad I met you, Jessa.”

“Me too.” Surprisingly enough, she actually meant it.