Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

Frankie

Napa Valley is gorgeous. I mean, I've seen photos and heard the stories, but this is so much more beautiful than I ever expected.

And being here in wine country with the world's most perfect man, I can relax. Hell, I am relaxing. And it feels good.

Maybe it has a something to do with the mind-altering orgasms I had last night and into the early morning. And in the shower before finally leaving the room to enjoy some of the beautiful Napa Valley air.

"What looks good?" Damien's wearing an expression that tells me this isn't the first time he asked the question.

I scan the menu quickly. "Is late enough for the brunch platter?"

"Absolutely," the cheerful server answers with a bright smile.

"Make it two," he tells her, but his gaze stays on me. "Mimosas?"

I shake my head. "I know it's wine country and all, but that key lime pie martini is making my mouth water."

"And I thought that was my job."

Though I try to bite back a laugh, I can't. "It might do your ego good to have a little competition."

His gaze flicks to the clearly amused server. "Two key lime pie martinis, please."

"Coming right up!" She practically bounces away from the table, leaving us alone.

Temporarily.

"I thought that was you, Wolfe." An older man with a shock of unkempt silver hair stops at the table, his tone familiar, as if he and Damien are old friends.

But one look at Damien and his face is not at all welcoming. Not that the man seems to notice. "Ben." That's rich people speak for how fucking dare you stop and address me with such familiarity.

"You haven't gotten back to me about investing in my new bio-hacking startup."

Damien's jaw ticks, but it's so slight that a layperson might not notice. "There's a good reason for that. I have no interest in it."

The man flashes a smarmy grin that makes him look like a complete asshole. "Afraid you might lose a few million?"

"I didn't become a billionaire by making poor investments, Ben and your prospectus is more science fiction than science." I can see Damien's annoyance growing by the way he clenches his jaw. "When you have something more concrete, you know how to reach me."

Ben's face hardens, and without another word, he turns and leaves. I watch him storm off before leaning in closer to Damien, a smile tugging at my lips. "Did you really just dismiss him like that? I thought stuff like that only happened in movies."

Damien chuckles under his breath and it's the most relaxed I've seen him since we've met. "It's a talent."

"Apparently," I say with a laugh.

Just then, our drinks arrive, and Damien lifts his glass, giving me that intense look that always makes my stomach flip. "To the detective who's turned my life upside down."

I raise my glass, grinning. "And to the billionaire who threw coffee on me and somehow got away with it."

Heat flares in his eyes as he puts his lips to the glass and drinks from it. "Damn, this is great."

"Damien Wolfe, you handsome devil." A slender blonde with perfectly painted red lips leans over our table, giving Damien a good long look at her tits.

His gaze is still on me, smiling as if we're still alone. He takes another sip of his drink, sighs and leans back before flicking a bored look at the woman. "Taylor Perkins."

"You remembered!" Her excitement is palpable.

"I did and I'm having brunch with my lady, if you don't mind."

Her nostrils flare, but she pulls back gracefully with her hands on her hips and flashes a grimace that looks nothing like a smile. "Of course. My apologies."

Damien doesn't respond and eventually she gets the loud, ringing bells hint.

His action surprises me. I'm not lacking in confidence, but Taylor is just one of the many women who has flirted with Damien this morning.

I keep telling myself that he's too good for me. I'm just a broke homicide detective. And the ladies I've seen flirting with him are stunningly beautiful.

And full-blown fucking bitches. I'd never openly flirt with a man who was with another woman. That's just rude. But I am in total shock at how he's handling things.

"Friend of yours?" I ask, not really wanting to know the answer.

"Not really. She was married to one of my investors about ten years ago. Are you okay?"

"Yep. Just thinking about you and all of this." The fancy restaurant, the fancier hotel suite and the private jet. "It's nice, but I have to admit that I didn't see you coming, Damien."

"Same." He shakes his head. "I think you're just fucking wonderful, Francesca."

"I think you're pretty fucking wonderful too." In fact, I think he just might be the man of my dreams, which is alarming as hell since I'm not looking for Mr. Right.

I have a serial killer to catch first.

Our plates are nearly clean, and the martinis have me buzzing just enough to enjoy the fact that I'm not working right now. And I really should be.

"Come on," Damien says, breaking into my thoughts. "Let's walk off some of this food and get your mind off work."

"Are you a mind reader or something?"

"Something like that. Or maybe I just know you better than you realize."

"Possible," I concede as he takes my hand in his. "Are we allowed to just walk around these vineyards?"

"Of course. It's how they entice you to buy even more cases of wine." His deep laugh wraps around me like a hug and I savor it.

We walk in a comfortable silence for a while, both of us simply enjoying being together as the warm breeze washes over us. The view is spectacular, as if someone put it here just for us. I can't remember ever being this comfortable around anyone, definitely not my last relationship. Neither Nate nor I could tolerate long silences without feeling the urge to fill them, but here with Damien I don't feel that urge.

"You said Jay is family?"

I nod, wondering where that question came from. "Yes. He was Uncle Jay long before my father died and after, well he stepped up for me in a big way."

"It's not weird, having your uncle as your partner?"

"Kind of," I laugh. "But there's nobody I'd rather learn from than him. And Jay doesn't sugarcoat things which I appreciate." It's so refreshing, a man who listens when he asks a question. "Do you have any other family?"

"Just my sister. Olivia."

"Are you two close?" I would think if they were some kind of close, he'd talk about her or have pictures or something of her at the penthouse.

"We're as close as we can be considering she's nonverbal. It's not a permanent problem but it's been," he sighs heavily, as if the weight of the world is on his shoulders, "Persistent."

I have a lot more questions, but I can sense that Damien doesn't want to talk about it. It's the first time since we've met that I've seen him look anything other than confident. He looks almost vulnerable. "I'm so sorry. Is it a problem with a solution?"

That perks him right up. "Yes. It absolutely is."

I have a feeling there's more to those four words than he's saying, but I'm good at reading a room and I let the statement hang in the air between us for several moments. "Whenever you're ready, I'd love to hear more."

Damien stops, turning to me with the sexiest smile any man has ever given a woman on this planet and wraps his arms around my waist. "When there's more to tell, I can't wait to share it with you." One hand slides slowly up my neck to cup one side of my face, an irresistible caress a moment before his mouth descends on mine.

The kiss is soft to start, an exploration as if this is our first kiss. Damien's mouth is gentle, his tongue sweeps back and forth across my bottom lip until I'm breathless. Then he hits my top lip, a slow and steady sweep until I gasp with want and he slips inside with a soft chuckle.

My body is shivering as each slow stroke of his tongue teases me. It tempts me and leaves me shaking and shivering. There's something about the way he kisses me, so completely, that makes me feel things I can't understand or explain. I've been with men before, enough to know what a good kiss is, what good sex is, but this is more than that.

It's not just good, it's everything .

Tears prick my eyes, but it's not sadness—it's the overwhelming flood of emotions rushing through me. I can't remember ever feeling this consumed by a man, by his kisses. It's part of what I'm feeling: happy, overwhelmed, and maybe even loved.

We haven't said the words yet, but Damien holds me like I'm something precious. He looks at me like I'm a rare gem. Every touch, every glance—it makes me feel things I've never felt before.

I feel like I'm someone else—someone who could float above the vineyards, drifting on clouds. "Damien," I whisper, barely able to catch my breath.

He pulls back with a look on his face that could melt butter. "Back to the hotel?"

I nod, hungry for him and his kisses.

"Back to the hotel," I whisper.