Hot Boss, Wicked Nights

Damon feigned sleep but his thoughts were running at a million miles an hour. He wanted to hold her closer the way he’d grown accustomed to—was it only a few days ago? It felt like years. To rub his hands over her flesh and feel her heart beat against his palm. To press his nose into the softness of her neck and surround himself in her own special scent.

To forget what had gone before, let himself go and just love her.

But he couldn’t risk it, not with his lifestyle. He’d seen that starry look in her eyes. Soft, vulnerable, fragile.

He was walking on emotional quicksand. She was getting too close, spinning dreams he couldn’t give her. And if he wasn’t careful they were both going down.

He had to tread carefully, take a step away. His past had already mapped out tomorrow for him. He only had now. And now was a very good time to schedule that Malaysian jump.

Kate was falling endlessly. Sheer cliffs a fingertip away, the sound of her scream whipped away from her lips by the wind howling past her ears. Stony ground rushing up to meet her…

She woke breathless, heart pounding, her fingers twisted in the sheets where Damon had lain. As her breath sawed in she registered the scent of soap and the very normal and comforting sound of running water.

She hadn’t had that dream in a long time.

‘Good morning.’ Towelling his damp hair, Damon stepped into her room wearing only tiny black briefs, showcasing his rippling abdomen and muscled thighs.

‘Hi.’ Shaking the haunting dream images away, she glanced at her digital clock. ‘You’re up early. We don’t have to be at work for another couple of hours.’ She stretched, easing out the kinks she’d earned by being relegated to a sliver of the bed and hoping he might join her again before they had to leave.

He retrieved his shirt from the wicker chair, put it on and began doing up buttons without looking at her. ‘I want to go in early, finish some work. I’m going away for the weekend.’

‘Oh? You never mentioned it.’ A bad feeling rolled around in the pit of her stomach. Why had he not mentioned it?

Why should he? They didn’t have a claim on one another. But with the way it was between them, she’d have considered it a courtesy at least.

‘Because it wasn’t a definite until this morning,’ he said, casting about for a sock.

‘You arranged a trip at this hour of the morning?’ She watched him shake out his trousers and step into them.

‘Six a.m., actually.’ His expression reminded her of the moment at the airport just before she’d fallen. She’d been cool towards him, an attempt to keep herself emotionally safe—he’d been cool right back. Had it been some sort of defence, a protective shell he surrounded himself with?

He must have interpreted her silence as condemnation because he looked at her and said, ‘I won’t be taking any time off work. I’ll be back first thing Monday morning.’

She reached for her flannel dressing gown at the bottom of her bed, slipped it on, tying the sash as she rose. ‘Where are you going?’

‘Kuala Lumpur.’

‘Malaysia? But we just got back from Bali. Why the heck are you going there?’ She had to ask.

She shouldn’t have asked.

‘I’ve organised a jump with Seb and another guy.’ He found his tie, slung it around his neck. ‘An event like this doesn’t come up very often; it’s too good an opportunity to pass up.’

That bad feeling flexed and stretched and rolled around some more. She knew he jumped. Lots of people jumped. Didn’t mean she had to like it. ‘We have skydiving events in Sydney, believe it or not,’ she remarked caustically.

He stopped dressing and looked at her. ‘It’s a BASE jump.’

She was aware of a choking sound coming from her throat as she stared at him. Not a skydive but something so much more dangerous. Deadly.

‘Do you know what that is?’ he asked when she didn’t speak. Couldn’t.

An extreme sport involving jumping from fixed objects like buildings and bridges and mountains using only a single parachute. A daredevil stunt that could kill in a second. Her stomach turned to ice. ‘It’s suicide, that’s what it is.’ Her eyes drilled into his. ‘I was right. You really are the thoughtless, reckless, irresponsible and selfish son of a bitch I thought you were.’

She thought she saw regret or remorse in his gaze. ‘It’ll be okay, I’ve done it before. Don’t worry.’

‘Don’t worry. Don’t worry?’ Shoving her hands in her hair, she twisted away from him, couldn’t bear to look at him. She pressed her lips together as the strong and bitter taste of bile rose up her throat.