The Dare Collection January 2020. Lauren Hawkeye

in sudden concern. ‘Hey, what’s up? You don’t want to go?’

      ‘There’ll be media there,’ I said. ‘They’ll all want to know who I am. My face will be known and...’ I took a breath. ‘That will put Mr Chen’s business at risk.’

      Damian frowned. ‘Okay, that’s a legit concern. But we don’t have to give the media your real name. We can make up any story we want for you. And as for your face...’ He lifted one of his long-fingered hands, his fingertips brushing my cheek. ‘You’ll have your fifteen minutes, Sugar. But then everyone will forget because everyone always does. The public’s memory has about the span of a goldfish’s.’

      ‘But you won’t forget.’ I wasn’t sure what made me say it. Maybe it was simply because I wanted the reassurance. ‘Will you?’

      ‘No.’ One finger drifted along my jaw. ‘Everyone will forget but me.’

      It was true what he said about the public’s memory. I could go with him, be in the spotlight for a little then disappear. The next scandal would hit and no one would even remember I existed.

      No one except him.

       You don’t care about the party or even the anonymity. You just want more time with him.

      It was true, I did. And that was probably a warning for me not to go, because I couldn’t let myself get attached to him. Couldn’t allow him to become important to me. But... I knew I was going to go all the same. Because I wasn’t ready for this to end. I wanted more time with him, more memories of heat, pleasure and laughter to last me for when I had to go back to my real life.

      I had a feeling this chance would never come again, so how could I say no?

      ‘In that case...’ I tried not to let my voice get too emotional. ‘I’d love to come.’

      A bright, quicksilver spark ignited in Damian’s eyes, making my heartbeat accelerate and my breath catch; he was pleased, I could tell.

      ‘Are you sure, though?’ I went on, unable to help myself. ‘You haven’t got someone else who’s more...’ I wanted to say beautiful but couldn’t bring myself to voice it. ‘I don’t know, more suitable?’

      His fingers moved from my mouth down to my chin, gripping me gently. ‘Why wouldn’t you be suitable?’

      ‘Well, I’m...just kind of...’ I stopped again, feeling stupid.

      ‘Kind of what?’

       You’re going to have to tell him.

      Especially as I’d now made it into a big deal.

      ‘Ordinary,’ I said, forcing the word out. ‘I’m just kind of ordinary.’

      His gaze narrowed. ‘Did you miss the bit where I said you were beautiful?’

      ‘I know, but I—’

      ‘I don’t say shit I don’t mean, Sugar.’ His thumb brushed over my bottom lip caressingly. ‘And you are beautiful. And passionate. And, given how you’ve managed to stay one step ahead of the authorities for so long, incredibly smart. All of which makes you very far from ordinary.’

      My stomach did a long, slow somersault and I couldn’t think of a single word to say except, ‘Oh.’

      I knew I shouldn’t let his opinion matter to me. But it did.

      ‘I guess the real question, though,’ he went on, studying me, ‘Is why would you think that?’

      I let out a breath and glanced away from him. ‘I wasn’t fishing or—’

      ‘I know you’re not. But seriously, Thea. Why the hell would you think you’re ordinary?’

      Telling him the truth would make me feel vulnerable, but I couldn’t think of a decent excuse. And, besides, I’d already told him most of it.

      ‘I don’t really,’ I muttered. ‘It’s just... Mr Chen didn’t think I was good enough for him. Or at least not good enough to adopt me. I know he said it was because I wasn’t his blood but...’ I stopped, my throat tightening, and then a whole lot of words I hadn’t meant to say came tumbling out. ‘My parents just left me on the stairs of the orphanage. They didn’t even leave a note. And sometimes I wonder why they didn’t name me or leave any sign that they cared about me. And sometimes I think it was because there was nothing about me that made them care.’

      A silence fell.

      Oh, God, why had I said all that? It sounded so pathetic and needy—attention-seeking, even—all things that Mr Chen had told me I needed to overcome if I wanted to make a success of this job.

       So much for overcoming...

      I forced my mouth shut, focusing on the bright inks of the dragon on Damian’s chest instead, given it was better than looking into his face.

      Then a finger was beneath my chin, he was tilting my head back with irresistible strength and I met his gaze, dreading what I was going to see there.

      But there was none of Mr Chen’s cold disapproval, only an oddly fierce expression that I didn’t understand. ‘You are not ordinary, Thea,’ he said quietly, forcefully. ‘I don’t know why your parents gave you up, but it wasn’t about you, I’d stake my entire fucking corporation on it. You are rare and precious. Priceless, even.’ Conviction burned in his eyes, his thumb moving caressingly over my bottom lip. ‘That’s why I’m asking you to go to London with me. Because I’m not ready for you to disappear on me. I want more of you, understand?’

      There was a hot feeling inside me, an ache that I didn’t want to examine too closely, afraid of what it might mean. So I didn’t examine it. I looked at him instead, seeing the belief in his gaze.

      He thought I was rare and precious. He thought I was priceless.

       Careful. You have to be so careful, Thea.

      Oh, yes, I did. Mr Chen had been very clear: no husband or children. No friends, as they couldn’t know anything that could compromise client discretion. He’d told me that it was easier to have no one, to get used to being alone, because that had worked for him. So I had got used to it, telling myself that it was easy not to want anything if you tried hard enough.

      Except now I’d taken a step over that line and allowed myself to want something: more of Damian Blackwood.

       It’s going to blow up in your face; you know that, right?

      Maybe it would. But right now I didn’t much care.

      I didn’t know what to say—anything was going to sound way too emotional and I had the sense he didn’t want that. So I settled for nipping playfully on his thumb instead.

      He smiled and took his hand away, leaning forward and kissing me, long and slow. ‘Leave everything to me. I’ll arrange it.’

      Damian was as good as his word.

      Over the next few days, he dealt with everything, including the issue of a passport, because I didn’t have one—I’d never needed one before now. I didn’t know how he managed to get it through so fast—connections, in all likelihood—but a passport was soon produced, and the problematic issue of clothing was resolved.

      I was all set to go home and grab some things, but Damian wouldn’t hear of it, handling the ordering of some clothes for me himself. Which was fine. I was more than happy to let him order and pay for things for me. After all, what was the point of a having billionaire lover if he didn’t buy you stuff? I wasn’t all that interested in clothes anyway, but it sure was nice to be taken care of.

      However, when the small mountain of clothing arrived by delivery that afternoon and it was all in my size, and all fitting perfectly, I could suddenly see why he’d called himself the glue that held his corporation together.

      He remembered everything,