He told her, “You have nothing to apologize for, Nikki. And I honestly don’t want you thinking that you do. Ever. You’ve endured a hell of a lot, and you continually have more and more heaped onto you. For that…I’m truly sorry.”
“Thank you. I appreciate the sentiment.”
Not that it corrected anything in their skewed sphere, but… She knew he was being sincere.
She said, “Garcia feels equally regretful.”
Nikki gave this further thought, including her previous indication of it not righting their collective axis.
Her eyes closed for a moment.
She wasn’t one to obsess over what was singularly correct in her own, personal sphere. She was a big-picture sort. Her individual tragedies weighed heavy on her mind and within her heart, most definitely. But Nikki had never placed her hardships, her heartbreaks, her struggles above anyone else’s. She wouldn’t do so now.
In fact, there was a grander scheme to assess, evaluate and comprehend in this particular situation.
So she very earnestly told Damen, “Neit
her you nor Fiora have done anything short of ensuring national security. International security, even. I recognize and validate that. Your intentions are honorable and highly prized, regardless of who does or doesn’t know precisely what the two of you do to guarantee people’s safety—what your entire team does,” she added.
At great peril to their lives. This she didn’t have to say. It was naturally implied. In fact, it lingered in the air between them, despite the notion being an unspoken one.
She did tell him, however, “Being a general citizen, as I am, exposed to the lengths your operatives are willing to go in order to thwart terrorist attacks against this country and its residents… Jesus, Damen…”
She raised her hands in the air, in surrender.
How the hell was she supposed to argue her personal inconvenience when they were saving more lives than she could fathom?
And while—true fact, her own life had been in danger—she’d never been left to fend for herself. Not once.
Damen had been with her every step of the way, fiercely protecting her—and trying to secure her property, her belongings, her memories that meant so much to her.
And when Nikki had needed a reprieve from him, from the too-intense situation and the dire outcome she’d been facing… Fiora Garcia had stepped in to pick up the torch and continue carrying it, to make sure Nikki was covered, that she could breathe without fearing for every second of her life. Without having to make an instant, impulsive decision as to where to go once she’d left Damen.
A decision that could have, in the long run, proved detrimental to her, because she’d been too hasty in attempting to escape all that plagued her and threatened her mental capacity and capabilities.
Garcia had offered her a sanctuary so that Nikki could chill for a while.
She didn’t even need to collect her thoughts—nor had she invested energy in that. She’d had the prime opportunity to just veg and bring her heart rate down. Let her chakras realign.
So that when she was good and ready, she could make some sound choices.
That involved moving on from this scenario with Damen and his family.
Just…not at this very moment.
And she was eternally grateful that he, too, offered her a sanctuary. A safe space. A comfortable and secure harbor.
She pushed out of the pillow-filled corner of the couch and got to her feet. She combed her fingers through her damp, dark-auburn strands of hair. The bubble bath she’d taken had helped to loosen her bunched muscles and also aided in her breathing better.
She now wore a midnight-blue nightgown with cream-colored lace trim and a matching robe. Making her feel a bit more human again. A bit less high-strung and erratic.
It was time to continue with her own life, so she told Damen, “I’m all packed up. If you wouldn’t mind directing me to a room I can have for the evening, I’d be grateful. Then I’ll leave in the morning.”
He drained his glass, stood and crossed to the wet bar, where he deposited the snifter.
Turning to her, he said, “You can have my bed, Nikki. I’ll take the sofa.”
“That’s not necessary, Damen.” She cringed over the sudden formality between them. But plunged forward. “I know you have plenty of spare rooms. I don’t want you sleeping on the couch because of me. And I’ll be up early, so—”