It had been a relief to welcome January. To know everyone else’s focus was back on Aria’srescue.
He entered the master suite and continued into the bathroom where he ran a hot shower. When the bathroom was filled with steam, he stepped under the water and soaped up. He kept his mind on the mission ahead — the timeline, the plans, the equipment — forcing himself not to think of Aria as the water sluiced offhisbody.
It was easier when he was working, separated from the world by the armor of his clothes and his mission. In the shower he was naked and vulnerable, the memories of Aria’s skin sliding against his own, her hands roaming his body as her lips opened to him, tooclose.
Too close and toovivid.
It was the same at night when he tried to sleep, every muscle aching for her, the memory of her in his arms, her hair splayed across the pillow as he joined his bodytohers.
It wasunbearable.
Then came the nightmares to remind him what unbearable truly was. Then he saw the things Anastos and his men might be doing to her. He saw the mean glint in Malcolm Gatti’s eyes the day he’d first met him at Primo’s club in the city, the way the other man had looked at Aria when he’d grabbed herwrist.
Damian forced the thoughts away and turned off the shower, dried off his body and wrapped the towel around his waist. Pulling a duffel bag from the closet, he threw in his shaving kit and a couple changes of clothes for Greece and turned to the red shopping bag on the floor of hisbedroom.
He picked it up and moved to put it in the duffel, then hesitated and set it on the bed. It took him a full minute to screw up the courage to lookinside.
He’d asked his underboss, Cole Grant, to choose things for Aria, not trusting himself to do the job. It’s not that Damian didn’t want to shop for Aria — hell, there was nothing he wanted more than to shower her with anything and everything she everwanted.
But entering stores to choose clothes for her feltarrogant.
Like a jinx on their chances of getting her out of Athensalive.
She’salive…
And she was. Damian knew it. He would have known it even if there hadn’t been indications based on the supplies being brought into the apartment inOmonoia.
He felt it in hisbones.
Shopping for her felt indulgent, like he was challenging the universe to a duel, and while he’d never hesitated to challenge the universe to a duel in the past, he wasn’t about to do itthistime.
Not with Aria’s life hanging in thebalance.
Which was why he’d asked Cole to choose things for Aria to wear after they got her out of Athens. Damian had no idea what condition she’d be in — he hadn’t allowed him to consider any other possibility than her return to him safe and whole — but she would need clothes that didn’t have the stink of Anastosonthem.
He reached into the bag, removed a pair of soft velvet trousers with drawstring at the ankles, a silky scarlet blouse. He held the blouse to his nose without thinking, realized it didn’t smell like her and shoved everything back inthebag.
He folded it over and nestled into his duffel, not allowing himself to think too hard abut the moment he would remove it, the moment he would have Aria back inhisarms.
When he was done, he moved the duffel to the floor and pulled on a pair of jeans, then walked to the bar in his room and poured himself a double shot of whiskey. He sank into one of the chairs by the window and took a drink of the amberliquid.
The images of her came fast and hard. The morning light shining on her sleeping face, the way she tipped her head back when she laughed, the shine in her eyes when she teased him, the moonlight casting diamonds onto her skin as she dived off the boat in the Mediterranean during a latenightswim.
He took another drink and let himself relive every moment. He lingered on every detail, let the ache of missing her settle into his bones. When it was more than he could bear, he sat with it a momentlonger.
Then he finished dressing, grabbed his bag, and left the house, promising himself that the next time he returned to it, she would be byhisside.
Whateverittook.