"Well, if the job is to just sit around day in and out, I'd rather resign," she said, her gaze meeting his for the first time since the park.
"I have plenty of 'hands on' things you can do, Sierra," he said with a growl in his voice. He slowly started approaching her again.
He watched as she finished her glass and nervously swallowed. He reached her chair and leaned down, his hands gripping the wood arms on either side of her.
"I'm not used to this kind of life, Damien. To tell you the truth, you frighten me," she whispered, her breath hitching as he leaned closer to her.
"You're a smart woman, Sierra. You should be afraid. I want a lot from you, a lot more than I originally planned," he said with a wicked smile.
∞∞∞
Panic washed through Sierra in waves. What if he tried taking more than she was capable of giving? What did she have to give, anyway? She had nothing – nothing that would appeal to a man like Damien. He may be amused by her for a short time, but then what? What happened when she was half in love with him, and he was done playing? She wasn't afraid of him physically abusing her like her father did, but she had a feeling that Damien could do far more damage to her heart in a short amount of time, with nothing more than his words, than anything her father had ever done to her body, with his fists.
She couldn't think when he was so close to her, his hot breath softly caressing her face, his scent filling her nostrils, his body so temptingly near. She fought the desire to reach out and touch him, run her fingers along his solid chest, trail her hand down his stomach, feel the bulge she knew was present in his pants.
"Is this only a game?" she finally asked.
He tensed as he shot up straight and began removing his jacket. The muscles in his shoulders rippled beneath the thin linen shirt he was wearing. The man exuded agitation, causing a pang to tear through her chest. It seemed he was playing a game. Until that moment, she didn't realize how badly she'd wanted him to tell her she meant something – anything other than a cheap lay. She quickly stood from the chair, needing to pace to help sort out the annoying stir within her.
"What game are you playing, Damien? Is it a power struggle with my father? Did he wrong you in some way? Is the whole point to humiliate me? If that's the case and you're seeking revenge on my dad by hurting me, it won't work. He could care less if you hurt me. You would've been much better off going for my sister," she said with bitterness.
Damien stilled and turned to look at her, as if assessing if her words were true or not. She held her head high while she looked back. Let him think what he wanted. She was too tired of men using her to care much at that point.
"I want revenge!"
Sierra was stunned by the passion in his tone as the words barreled out of him. She couldn't imagine what her father had done to cause him so much anguish and hatred, though she wasn't surprised. Douglas Monroe took what he wanted, when he wanted it, and anyone who happened to be in his way got run over.
"I want what was robbed from me, from my mother. I want revenge and I won't stop until I have it."
Sierra looked at the myriad of emotions flashing in Damien's eyes, the rest of his face like stone. She didn't understand what he was saying. What was taken from him? What did she have to do with it? What had her father done now?
The silence was suffocating in its intensity. She had to make him see that he'd get nothing by going through her.
"My father hates me, Damien. You won't get anything out of him by using me. I don't know how to make you understand that," Sierra said, the admission puncturing a hole straight through her. To utter the words aloud was humiliating. It wasn't a secret that Douglas despised her. Sure, he put on airs when they were out, but he didn't try very hard to mask his disdain for his eldest child.
"This has nothing to do with your father, Sierra," he said as he took a determined step in her direction.
Confusion ran rampant through her mind. She'd never met Damien Whitfield before that moment in her father's study, so she couldn't see what she could've possibly done to wrong him – or worse – hurt him.
"I never even knew you in the past, Damien. I couldn't have possibly done anything to cause you to seek revenge against me."
Sierra took several retreating steps as he continued his deliberate approach. It didn't matter how long it took him, because in the end he would pounce and come out victorious.
"It's not you, either," he said, his lips turning up in a sardonic smile.
"Then, who? I don't want to play your games, Damien. I demand you stop this!"