Don't Tell (Don't 1)

Damon stepped into the residence. He looked past his sister. His eyes landed on mine.

For a quick second I forgot how mad I was. How I was hauled out of the library. How I waited for hours with no words. One look and I was ready to melt into his lips again and get lost in his hands. I reminded myself I was furious.

“Damon,” she urged. “It’s a state matter.”

His eyes cut to her. “Can’t it wait until tomorrow, Isabel?”

“Sorry, Molly.” She quickly looked at me over her shoulder. “No, it can’t. Where have you been anyway?”

“With the XXislands prime minister. You didn’t see the press conference? The ceremony?”

I knew he was speaking to her, but I shook my head. That would have been a nice piece of information to have.

“You’re always doing something.” She sighed. “It’s non-stop.”

“It is part of my job.” He loosened his tie. “Would you like me to stop running the country and stop everything to hear your problems?” He unbuttoned the top button.

I felt like one of the palace servants. I was there, but practically invisible to them as they continued their sibling banter.

“No. But you could at least grant my audience when I ask for it.”

“When do I deny your audience, Isabel?”

“I didn’t want to go to XX. You know that. Instead of meeting with me, you sealed the itinerary and I was on a plane.”

He closed his eyes. “Let’s continue this in my office.”

He led her across the room and into his private study. I watched until t

he door was closed. I sat on the sofa with my vodka, waiting for one of them to emerge. I could hear them argue from where I sat. It was back and forth. Neither one letting it get out of hand, but there was no doubt it was heated.

A few minutes later, I heard Isabel’s heels click across the floor. I turned to watch her.

“Good night, Molly. It was a pleasure to meet you.” She tapped the elevator button.

“Good night.” I rose from the sofa.

The door opened and the princess disappeared in a blur of glittery white.

“Bon soir, Molly.”

His voice gave me chills.

I had enough time to come out swinging. Plenty of minutes to perfect the lines I should have said. It should have been eloquent and fiery. Even fiery eloquence.

“What?”

“I see you already have a drink. I need a bourbon.” He walked toward me, but turned for the bar.

I didn’t know what it would feel like to see him again.

It was like whiplash, snapping between annoyance and giddiness that he was here. Then there was the guilt mixed with irritation that I was ok with any of this.

“Do you know your goons removed me from my work and brought me here?” I challenged. “Do you have any idea what that cost me today?”

Damon’s back was to me. He poured his bourbon.

“I wanted to see you.”