Damien
The shepherd’s pie was delicious. The salad crisp. My unexpected dinner companion had little appetite, though. Every time the door opened, she tensed. Each time a new voice rang out, she jumped. Finally, I slid my hand across the table, covering hers that held her fork like a weapon.
“That’s for eating, not gouging someone’s eye out with,” I stated mildly. “And if you’re still really worried, you should know that I could take whoever was threatening you out in about forty-five seconds. They wouldn’t even get close.”
Her worried eyes met mine, a frown between them. I smiled, wanting her to relax. “You picked the right bar to come into, Raven. Trust me on that.”
“Are you some sort of assassin?” she asked, half joking.
I slid a card from my wallet and handed it to her. She read it, mouthing the words. “Damien DeSalvo. You own a security firm?” she queried. “Really?”
“The best in the business. With my background, I’m highly trained. You’re perfectly safe, so I would like you to eat this delicious meal and relax. While you’re with me, nothing will happen to you.”
She glanced down, and I slipped my hand under her chin. “And I’ll make sure nothing happens after either.”
I tapped her nose. “Eat, please. The food is incredible, and you are far too pale. A meal will help.”
She let out a long exhale of air, her shoulders loosening. She picked up her fork again and began to eat. “It’s good,” she agreed.
“Way better than what I make.” I chuckled.
“You don’t cook?”
I shrugged. “I get by. Simple things. I like to grill. But I enjoy a well-made meal. My old boss used to get his frustrations out by cooking. Some of the best Italian food I’ve ever eaten.” I winked at her. “Sometimes we’d rile him up just so he’d go upstairs and cook.”
She smiled, a soft laugh escaping her mouth. She was extraordinarily pretty when she smiled. Her unusual eyes lit up, and a small dimple appeared by the left one, giving her an impish look. Her hair was beginning to dry, the dark color almost black against her creamy skin. She had pierced ears with three earrings in each ear, and I spied a hint of ink behind one of them. I felt a burning curiosity to know what it depicted and what it meant to her. All my ink had a story, and I wanted to know hers.
It shocked me how much I wanted to know everything about her.
But for now, I would settle for knowing she was fed, warm, and safe. The rest would happen.
Of that, I was certain.
“Do you have a lot of famous clients?” she asked.
I rarely spoke about Elite Security, or the clients we handled. But I noticed when I spoke, she concentrated on my words and she ate, so I made an exception and shared a few humorous stories. She laughed when I talked about the client who got so drunk, we had to take him out the service exit hidden under a trolley cart so the press didn’t see him. She covered her mouth with her hand as I described the amorous couple in the back of the limo, we had to drive around the city on an extended route until they were decent enough to escort back into their hotel.
“How did you look at them with a straight face?” she asked.
I grinned. “I didn’t. I charged them extra for deep cleaning the limo. Thank God leather cleans up well.”
She giggled, the sound light and airy. But it worked, and she ate her dinner. We shared a sticky toffee pudding after. She had never heard of the dessert and, after a few bites, declared it her favorite.
“They make the best in the city here,” I informed her.
“I need to look up the recipe.”
“You like to cook?”
She nodded. “As much as I can in my tiny apartment.” Then her face darkened. “I’m wondering if I have to move.”
I waited until Taylor refilled our coffee cups and took away the dessert plate.
“I need you to tell me about this man. Everything you can.”
She shook her head. “I don’t want—”
I interrupted her. “I am involved now. I can’t ignore it or you.”