The sound of Mairi swallowing nearly made him groan. Just like that – just that fucking sound and it was more than enough to have Damen hard as a rock.
“Tomorrow won’t come soon enough for me either,” he grated out.
Mairi bit back a sigh at the words. He really did feel the same way she did. The thought had her happily snuggling under the covers.
Damen came to his feet, checking his watch as he did. There was still enough time to have a drink downstairs. It would be a good way to pass the time and perhaps finish some of his work, too. But before he could say a word, Mairi had spoken again.
“Damen?”
She sounded incredibly shy using his name. Even though he knew now it could just be an act, it still made his cock swell. “Yes?”
“Tell me more about yourself.” Mairi waited for Damen to speak, but when the silence continued she said hesitantly, “Damen?”
He cleared his throat. Had he fucking heard her correctly? Did she really say something as impossibly juvenile as that? What kind of game was she playing, wanting him to act like an inexperienced boy on his first phone call with a girl?
Why wasn’t he speaking? Perhaps he was too busy and was just too nice enough to tell her the truth? Wincing at the realization that could very well be true, Mairi mumbled quickly, “I’m sorry. You must be really busy and tired---”
“No, of course not.” Damen was just as swift in his negation, lowering himself back on the couch positioned next to the hotel suite’s scenic windows. She was probably fucking playing with him, making him think that if he did not humor her now she would immediately move on to her other Greek boyfriend.
No fucking way would he let that happen. Mairi Tanner was his until he tired of her.
“Are you sure?”
“Of course.” He reached for the shot glass he had recently filled and downed it in one gulp. “What do you want to talk about?”
“Well…I just really want to know more about you.”
Know more about him in what way, Damen wondered cynically. Know more in the sense that she wanted the password to his safe? Exact figures of his current net worth? How many homes he owned?
“Ask me anything and I will do my best to answer you.”
Her eyes widened. “Anything?”
“Anything.”
“Then…what’s your favorite color?”
Damen stared at the phone. Did she just fucking ask him what his favorite color was?
“Damen? Are you there?”
Fuck, fuck, fuck. He wanted to laugh out loud but managed to rein in his amusement. He had no fucking idea what game Mairi Tanner was playing, but right now it didn’t matter. All Damen knew was that she kept surprising him, and her unpredictable ways just made him want her more and more.
Clearing his throat, he managed to answer with a straight face, “Black.”
“Oh.”
He raised a brow. “You sound disappointed.”
“Oh, no, no---”
“Mairi?”
She stopped, the sudden curtness of Damen’s voice scaring her more than a little bit. “Yeah?”
“Never lie to me and I promise you that I will not hold anything against you, whatever you tell me.”
She sighed.
Damen was beginning to wonder if he just happened to be sexually infatuated with a woman with serious mood swings. His words were meant to be a warning. He already had enough of women lying to him, and he had wanted Mairi to know that. And yet, while Damen had expected her to perhaps be overwhelmed or even offended, Mairi had instead sighed like he had recited a fucking poem for her.
“Are you all right?” he asked finally.
“I’m, umm, yes. I’m sorry.” She sighed again, unable to help it. When Damen had spoken those words, he had reminded her so strongly about the Greek billionaires she used to read about that goosebumps had formed all over her skin.
Damen decided to let those sighs go. He had a feeling he would simply drive himself crazy if he tried figuring it out. “Do you have any other questions?”
“Umm, yes.” She bit her lip. “But…it’s somewhat personal so if you don’t want to answer, it’s okay.”
The words made Damen tense. He was absolutely sure it would have something to do with his parents’ scandal. He poured himself another shot.
And then---
“Who was your first crush?”
Surprise had Damen spitting out his whiskey. What the hell? It was like she was reading her questions straight out of an autograph book. What would she want to know next – what he dreamt of becoming when he grew up? What his motto in life was?
“Are you okay?” she asked worriedly.
“Are you seriously asking me that?”
“I told you it was going to be personal.”