Chapter 32: Damian's Insomnia

Claire yanked the door open, chin lifted, glancing coolly at the tall figure standing on her doorstep.

"Sorry to disappoint. The last guest already left. You just missed him."

Lucas's brow arched. He stepped inside without waiting for an invitation, closing the door firmly behind him.

He caught her chin, tilting her face up toward his, sharp eyes scanning her expression before settling on her mouth.

His thumb pressed lightly against her lips, voice low and rough. "Which one was it this time?"

"Julian? Or someone new?"

"Well?"

Claire pulled her chin free and turned to walk into the living room without answering.

"Does it matter who it was?"

She dropped onto the sofa, crossed her legs, and picked up an apple from the table, peeling it with deliberate calm.

Lucas followed, standing over her, jaw tight.

Watching her sit there in that low-cut white nightgown knowing full well someone else had been here just minutes before sent a hot spike of irritation straight through him.

He plucked the apple from her hand, tossed it aside, and pressed her back against the cushions.

"You genuinely can't go a day without someone, can you."

"Fine. If that's what you need, I'll give you plenty of reasons to stop looking elsewhere."

He caught both her wrists in one hand, pinning them lightly above her head, and kissed her hard, deliberate, thoroughly possessive.

Claire met him with equal intensity, biting down on his lip hard enough to draw blood.

Lucas pulled back just enough to lick the blood away, eyes darkening further, something wolfish settling into his expression.

He scooped her up in one motion.

"This sofa's too small. Bedroom."

"I'm going to make sure you're too busy tonight to think about anyone else."

Claire laughed softly, looping her arms around his neck, voice lazy and unbothered.

"Big talk, Mr. Kane."

He looked down at her, that defiant little smile only sharpening his resolve. He dropped her onto the bed and pulled his tie loose without another word.

The rest of the night unfolded exactly the way he'd promised.

Across town, Damian lay in bed, unable to shake the image of Claire out of his head.

That slip dress. The confidence in the way she'd looked at him. That scent that still seemed to be clinging to his skin.

He'd been closer to losing his composure than he wanted to admit right up until he'd forced himself back into contempt, hiding behind the mockery instead.

But the moment he let his guard down, the reminder hit him again: she'd do exactly the same thing with Julian. With Lucas. With whoever else came through her door.

How am I supposed to feel anything for a woman like that?

He got up, stripped off his robe, and stepped into a cold shower, letting the water hit him full force.

I already did this once tonight, he thought bitterly. And here I am again.

Unbelievable.

He scrubbed at his frustration, muttering under his breath, before shutting off the water and toweling off harder than necessary.

This reaction is completely unacceptable.

A woman with that kind of reputation, and I can't stop thinking about her?

He tossed and turned for hours before finally drifting off somewhere close to midnight.

Meanwhile, the woman keeping him up half the night was, at that very moment, thoroughly occupied with someone else entirely.