what street do I live on?”
For a minute, she thought he might actually do it. He had read her personnel file once, after all. He had a very good memory when he bothered to use it for anything other than identifying his favorite brand of tequila. Then Damon gave her a characteristically teasing grin. “Don’t you know what street you live on? That must make it tough for you to find your way home.”
Natasha’s heart broke a little. Patiently, she waited.
“All right. Uncle.” Damon raised both hands in surrender, not even pretending he might be able to guess about her personal life. “You’re fine. I get it. I’ll quit bugging you.”
“Yes, you will.” No . Please keep trying . “Thanks.”
“But I still think something’s going on with you.” With more perceptiveness than he deserved to possess, Damon peered at her. “Sooner or later, I’ll figure out what it is.”
God, she hoped not. “Maybe. You’ll probably forget to try.”
“Now I’m doubly determined.” His grin dazzled her, just the way it always did. But now his was a married grin. An off-limits grin. A grin she had to resist. Damon jostled her shoulder in a brotherly fashion. “I just want you to be happy, Natasha.”
Hearing the affectionate way he said her name, she held her breath. Briefly, she closed her eyes. Damon didn’t mean that to sound as tender as it did. He couldn’t help it. He was ... him .
“I want you to be happy like I’m happy.” In a jolly way, Damon nodded toward Giada. His new wife was waiting outside with a smoldering Italian cigarette in one hand, looking regal and sophisticated. “It turns out, all I ever wanted was true love.”
“You and me both.” Spying Jason and Amy and the rest of Damon’s weary entourage emerging from the crowd at the baggage carousel with their luggage, Natasha straightened. “Sometimes it’s not so easy to find, though.”
Her newly finalized divorce papers proved that much.
“We should have found true love together,” Damon joked. “That would have been the practical thing to do.”
At his blithe tone, Natasha’s heart splintered a little more. She hadn’t realized exactly how deep her feelings for him went. Now that she was beginning to have an inkling of the way she might feel, it was too late to do anything about it.
“Practical? Ha!” With effort, Natasha met Damon’s gaze directly. “I know you way too well to think you could ever be practical. That’s my world, and we both know it. You just visit it from time to time to impress the board of directors.”
Damon laughed. “You’re right. You do know me too well. But hey ... it’s nice living here in Sexy Fun Town. Why would I ever want to leave?” He glanced at Giada. “And speaking of sexy fun ... I’ve neglected my wife for too long already.” He paused, shook his head, then gave Natasha a look filled with pure incredulity. “My wife . Can you believe I just said that? Isn’t that something?”
Then, without waiting for Natasha to answer, Damon ruffled her hair the way a big brother would do to a pesky tomboy sister. He picked up his carry-on bag, assembled his usual mixture of machismo, magnetism, and carefree swagger, then took himself off to the cloud of smoke that encircled his new wife.
Wistfully, Natasha watched as Damon and Giada reunited. They looked happy enough. A little jet-lagged maybe. But happy.
If she was going to be happy, too, she’d just have to move on. She would have to lock away those irresponsibly spicy feelings for Damon, forget about imagining what it would be like to see him naked, and get back to the business of taking them both to the top—one delicious, chocolate-centric deal at a time.
She could do that. Easy-peasy.
But Natasha sure wished, as she went to greet Amy and the others and shepherd them to the waiting car, that she could have spent a little time with Damon in Sexy Fun Town first.
She’d never heard him describe his life that way before, but it
For a minute, she thought he might actually do it. He had read her personnel file once, after all. He had a very good memory when he bothered to use it for anything other than identifying his favorite brand of tequila. Then Damon gave her a characteristically teasing grin. “Don’t you know what street you live on? That must make it tough for you to find your way home.”
Natasha’s heart broke a little. Patiently, she waited.
“All right. Uncle.” Damon raised both hands in surrender, not even pretending he might be able to guess about her personal life. “You’re fine. I get it. I’ll quit bugging you.”
“Yes, you will.” No . Please keep trying . “Thanks.”
“But I still think something’s going on with you.” With more perceptiveness than he deserved to possess, Damon peered at her. “Sooner or later, I’ll figure out what it is.”
God, she hoped not. “Maybe. You’ll probably forget to try.”
“Now I’m doubly determined.” His grin dazzled her, just the way it always did. But now his was a married grin. An off-limits grin. A grin she had to resist. Damon jostled her shoulder in a brotherly fashion. “I just want you to be happy, Natasha.”
Hearing the affectionate way he said her name, she held her breath. Briefly, she closed her eyes. Damon didn’t mean that to sound as tender as it did. He couldn’t help it. He was ... him .
“I want you to be happy like I’m happy.” In a jolly way, Damon nodded toward Giada. His new wife was waiting outside with a smoldering Italian cigarette in one hand, looking regal and sophisticated. “It turns out, all I ever wanted was true love.”
“You and me both.” Spying Jason and Amy and the rest of Damon’s weary entourage emerging from the crowd at the baggage carousel with their luggage, Natasha straightened. “Sometimes it’s not so easy to find, though.”
Her newly finalized divorce papers proved that much.
“We should have found true love together,” Damon joked. “That would have been the practical thing to do.”
At his blithe tone, Natasha’s heart splintered a little more. She hadn’t realized exactly how deep her feelings for him went. Now that she was beginning to have an inkling of the way she might feel, it was too late to do anything about it.
“Practical? Ha!” With effort, Natasha met Damon’s gaze directly. “I know you way too well to think you could ever be practical. That’s my world, and we both know it. You just visit it from time to time to impress the board of directors.”
Damon laughed. “You’re right. You do know me too well. But hey ... it’s nice living here in Sexy Fun Town. Why would I ever want to leave?” He glanced at Giada. “And speaking of sexy fun ... I’ve neglected my wife for too long already.” He paused, shook his head, then gave Natasha a look filled with pure incredulity. “My wife . Can you believe I just said that? Isn’t that something?”
Then, without waiting for Natasha to answer, Damon ruffled her hair the way a big brother would do to a pesky tomboy sister. He picked up his carry-on bag, assembled his usual mixture of machismo, magnetism, and carefree swagger, then took himself off to the cloud of smoke that encircled his new wife.
Wistfully, Natasha watched as Damon and Giada reunited. They looked happy enough. A little jet-lagged maybe. But happy.
If she was going to be happy, too, she’d just have to move on. She would have to lock away those irresponsibly spicy feelings for Damon, forget about imagining what it would be like to see him naked, and get back to the business of taking them both to the top—one delicious, chocolate-centric deal at a time.
She could do that. Easy-peasy.
But Natasha sure wished, as she went to greet Amy and the others and shepherd them to the waiting car, that she could have spent a little time with Damon in Sexy Fun Town first.
She’d never heard him describe his life that way before, but it
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