Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

Damien

As good as it feels to have Francesca snuggled up against me in a deep, post-orgasmic sleep, my mind won't allow me to relax. Having her at my side is better than I thought it would be, and I can't imagine not having her here with me.

The sound of her deep breathing is the perfect soundtrack to my thoughts. I stare at the ceiling, thinking about how fucking splendid the shit with the cameras had worked out.

It wasn't part of my plan, but there was no risk of being caught, so I was happy to invite Francesca to stay with me under the guise of protection. I'll keep her safe, keep her under my thumb until I'm ready to execute the rest of my plans.

Until then, the time is ripe for me to kick this shit into high gear. Frankie and I are undoubtedly closer than we were before we started living together, but I need more. She's in love with me, I can feel it. Not that I know fuck all about falling in love, but I can admit that my fondness for her, my desire to own her, is increasing with each passing day.

I look at her, so calm and peaceful in sleep. Her full lips part slightly and there are no traces of the stress that shows in her waking hours. It's all me. Every thought in her head, whether or not she knows it, is about me. The serial killer haunting her dreams and turning them into nightmares and the man she is turning her heart over to. She is consumed by me, and she doesn't even realize it.

Yet.

But she will. Soon.

A soft moan escapes her lips, and she reaches out to me in her sleep, brows dipping as her hand lands on my leg. One eye opens and then the other. "Damien, is everything okay?"

I plaster on a charming smile and turn to her. "Everything is great, just couldn't sleep."

"Something on your mind?"

"Other than you?" I wiggle my brows. "There are only two things I think about, Francesca. Work and you, and not always in that order."

Her chuckle is soft and sleepy. "Charming even in the middle of the night."

I slide down so that we're face to face, pulling her closer to me. "I'm glad you think so." When I kiss her softly, gently at first, the little moan she makes in the back of her throat ignites my desire. I deepen the kiss and push my hips against hers, teasing her until she throws one leg over my hip, bringing me flush against her swollen pussy lips.

"Yeah? Why is that?"

"Because," I whisper, and press a line of kisses across her collarbone. "I want to take you away for a few days." No woman can resist an impromptu luxury vacation.

"That sounds nice," she moans as I rub my cock against her folds. "But I can't."

"You can," I insist. "You need a few days to clear your head. A few days away from the office so you can come back refreshed."

She's shaking her head, ready to give me another reason why she can't go even though she wants to. But I know how to work her.

A few well-placed kisses and she'll be putty in my hands.

"You know Francesca, the best way to tackle a problem sometimes is to take a break from it. You're too close to it, especially after everything with your house and the cameras. A break will help. I promise." And I can guarantee that no murders will happen while we're out of town.

"A man with answers," she purrs. "How sexy."

I slowly kiss down her body. "And how can you possibly turn down a charming, sexy man?"

Her back arches, pressing her body closer to me, teasing me. "You promise not to take me somewhere crazy like Paris or Milan, right?"

I chuckle, pulling back just enough to take her in. She's playful, completely unaware of the weight between us. "You know most women would jump at the chance to go somewhere like that?"

She shrugs. "I thought you knew, Damien. I'm not most women."

"You most certainly are not." I lick a trail of heat down her belly to her hipbone. "But you also haven't said yes. Yet." I ease a finger into her cunt, watching the emotions play across her face. Pleasure. Desire. Want. Need. Hunger.

"No. Fair." She moans as I add another finger.

"I only want a few days away with you." I flick my tongue against her clit. "How does wine country sound?"

"Delightful," she whispers. "I like wine."

"And I like you. A lot." Using my fingers and my mouth I bring Francesca to a swift and fierce orgasm. She nearly suffocates me, but I take it, hell I encourage it.

"Fine," she answers breathlessly when she can finally form words again. "Wine country. Three days. No more."

"Deal. I'll take care of everything and then I'll pick you up from work around noon." It's all coming together perfectly.

Three days away with Frankie is just what I need. Just what the plan needs.

"Damien, how did you pull all this together so quickly?" Frankie looks at me like I'm a fucking superhero instead of a monster and each time she flashes that blinding smile my way, I want to do more things, bigger things so that she always looks at me like that.

"This was the simple part," I assure her as we climb the steps that lead to my private jet. "All I had to do was call the pilot and give him a flight plan."

"And the rest?" Her eyes are bright with curiosity and joy.

"Well, the rest is a surprise. Would you like a glass of champagne, or do you want to keep the wine theme going?"

"Since you're the maestro of this orchestra, you pick."

"I do love that answer." It's true, I love that she's so willing to follow my lead, to obey my commands. "I think we should start with champagne to celebrate. Besides, I don't want to taint the getaway with my incredible wine selection."

She licks her lips, staring at me before a sexy, melodic laugh falls from her lips. "Aren't you modest?" Her playful side is as intoxicating as her sexy side.

Fuck, it's all her sides that I like. "Modesty is overrated." I didn't get to where I am in this world by being modest. In fact, my confidence, my arrogance is what makes me such an appealing and intimidating figure. It's how—in part—I've kept the press from digging too deep into my long-buried background.

The flight to Napa Valley is quick and Frankie's excitement doesn't wane when we check into the hotel or join a tour of the best vineyard in wine country. "This place is really beautiful. So different from the hustle and bustle of L.A."

"The perfect getaway without actually getting too far away." It's not my favorite destination, but a man has to work with what he's given. "Now the question is, are we doing the full tasting?"

"Hell yeah! And you can teach me everything you know."

I am completely captivated by the look on her face. "You ever had a crush on a teacher?"

"No," she whispers as we hang near that back of the tour group. "But I might crush on my vino instructor right now." She loops her arm through mine, and we whisper and laugh together as the tour guide tells us all about the grapes and the temperature, the harvest and everything else that goes into making a damn good bottle of wine.

"And now it's time for the tasting. The half tasting is up here, and the full tasting is down in the cellar," the guide announces with a pleasant smile, ushering the group to make their choice.

"Come on, let me take you to the cellar," Damien says, guiding me toward the stairs.

I laugh, light and carefree, as we descend arm in arm, looking every bit like a happy couple. "This is pretty cool, like an actual cellar, but fancy. Kind of like the one I imagine you'd have. Do you?" I glance at him, teasing.

"Maybe a sex dungeon," I joke. "But not a cellar."

"If you have a sex dungeon and I haven't seen it yet well, I think I might be offended." Her face shifts into a playful frown. "Or relieved, actually. I don't know."

I lean in close to whisper in her ear. "Oh, you know." I don't miss the way she shivers against me.

"You're right," she says, catching my gaze. "I'd be offended. You definitely know your way around my body."

"Damn right I do. That's because it—and you—are mine."

Her tongue slips out, slicking across her bottom lip as if she's suddenly hungry for me. Right now. "Damien."

Thankfully—or not—we're interrupted by the start of the tasting.

"Later," I promise, and brush a soft kiss to her lips before we find a table for two.

I can't deny how much fun I have when I'm with Francesca. She's refreshing, not as jaded as she should be considering she spends her days and plenty of nights chasing criminals. The wine not only relaxes her, but it loosens her lips. "I'm happy you talked me into this."

"I knew you would be. You've been too stressed to do your job effectively."

She nods, taking a sip from a sweet white wine. "You're right and to be honest this guy has me spinning my wheels. There's so much we don't know, and the bodies keep piling up." Her jaw clenches tight. "Sorry. No work talk. No. Work. Talk."

I smile. "It's okay. I didn't get to where I am by keeping my work thoughts on a nine-to-five schedule."

That perks her right up. "When you started out, was it to conquer the world or just make money doing something you love?"

"Who says I love what I do?"

She shrugs as we progress to the red wines. "Fair point. Either you love the work or you're highly motivated by money."

Both of my brows lift in surprise. "Aren't we all motivated by money?"

"Sure. I mean we all need money to survive, but if we were all motivated in that way, we'd work ninety-hour weeks and shoot higher to make more money like you. There's a difference, trust me."

"And you're motivated not by money, but by justice?"

"In a way, I suppose." She sips the red and splashes it around in her mouth. "That's good. I'm motivated by trying to stop innocent people from being victims unnecessarily."

"So, gang violence is okay with you?"

Slowly, her lips curl into a grin. "No, it's not okay with me but gang members signed up for a life of violence. It's all illegal, but it stings more when random good people are targets, that's all."

Her words pique my interest, and I weigh my options about what to say next. "Where does law enforcement fall on that spectrum?"

Francesca pauses as if she's never thought about it that way before. It's fascinating, watching the emotions play across her face. For a homicide cop she is incredibly easy to read. "Good question. I guess you could argue that we sign up for this life, but when we go home," she starts and then stops as the realization sets in. "Shit."

"Flaw in your logic?"

"They're not playing by the same rules we are." She shakes her head again. "I know that. Logically I know that, but hearing it out loud…" She shakes her head again. I can practically see the wheels turning in her head as she gets lost in her thoughts. Here she is with the very man she's hunting and even now, she's thinking about me. Wondering what rules I'm playing by and how to use those rules against me.

"How about we get out of here?" I can tell she's shaken but I want to keep a positive atmosphere, so I stand and extend my hand to her, flashing my most charming smile. "Let's order some wine and then go dancing."

"That sounds perfect." Frankie stands up, letting out a heavy sigh. I watch as she lets go of the serious conversation, shaking it off before a smile starts, getting bigger with every passing second. "Let's go dancing."

I keep things light for the rest of the night and when we make it back to our hotel room, I make Francesca forget about everything in this fucking world except me.

Because I am her world.