The Tycoon’s Secret(59)

“I think you’re making a mistake. I know them, Damien. They aren’t anything like my father. They’re good people. If you’d just talk to them –”

“No! You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he interrupted.

Sierra didn’t know what else to say. Her heart was broken at his internal turmoil and she felt like she was being torn in half between him and her loyalties to Bree and the Anderson’s. She knew without a doubt that she was falling for him, and she also knew they had no chance of a future together. He was too angry, too set on revenge, and the people he wanted to hurt were the people she loved most in the world.

With a lump in her throat, Sierra lay back down. She didn’t feel like fighting with him anymore that night. She knew if she tried to get up, he’d just drag her back. Hopefully, if she just turned over and went to sleep, he’d leave her alone, let her have time to think.

She was grateful when the light went out and she felt him shift behind her. His arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her tightly against his body.

“I have to do this,” he said, almost a plea in his voice.

“No, Damien, you don’t. What you should do is learn the truth,” she said, her own voice sounding defeated.

It seemed she was destined to go from one battle zone to the next. Sierra was grateful when she felt herself beginning to drift to sleep. She’d start fresh the next day.





Chapter Twenty-Three




Sierra watched Damien walk into the room and her mouth literally fell open. He was beyond simply stunning, he was one-hundred-percent mouthwatering in his custom made tux which fit him to perfection.

She couldn’t take her eyes off the man as he stopped and chatted with various people as he made his way across the large ballroom floor.

They were at a fundraiser for the Red Cross, raising funds to help the military troops during the upcoming season. On one hand she was thrilled to be there, loving fundraisers, and how much money could be raised in a single night. The money that meant little to nothing to the wealthy donors, fed soldiers, supplied their families while they were away, and for the unfortunate many, buried them properly.

A sense of dread filled her, though, because she knew her father would be in attendance. She hadn’t wanted to come alone, but Damien had been called away at the last minute to one of his local factories, so he’d sent her ahead.

She smiled when she thought about the day before. She didn’t know how it had happened, but she’d been living with him for about a month, ever since that first night in his home. He’d changed. He hadn’t brought up his vendetta against the Anderson’s. The way he spoke to her, the many simple things he did, like bringing her flowers when they were apart and always opening doors for her, was securing him tightly into her heart.

As she gazed at him, she knew she was in love – hopelessly, infectiously in love with him. She could tell he was starting to feel the same way about her. She did her job each day and then made love to him each night.

For the past month, Damien had put Sierra to work. Literally. She’d complained he wasn’t giving her a job – well, now she was almost as busy as him. She was more than pleased when she discovered she was actually quite good at being his P.R. Rep.

She handled clients, organized meetings, and typed endless amounts of letters. One thing she discovered about Damien was that he was generous to a fault. He donated far more than what would look good for him on taxes. He personally handled most of the donations, never refusing anyone who called.

Some of the clients received smaller donations, one or two thousand dollars. Some of the amounts he gave were staggering, in the seven figure range. She found the man she’d met who’d been seeking revenge, and the man she was falling in love with were two completely different people.

They’d traveled a few more times to various places, none as far away as Australia, but still beautiful locations. He had a stunning vineyard in California. She didn’t understand why he chose to live in Seattle when he could live in Napa Valley, where it was warmer, gorgeous, and he already had a home waiting for him on the edge of his ten-thousand acre estate.

She’d enjoyed their three night stay there, strolling through the rows of grapes, talking with the workers, and drinking too much wine.

She’d found she was quite limber when she had a couple of glasses of wine in her. Damien had seemed to enjoy that immensely. Her smile grew at the fond memory.

“Don’t you look mighty happy.”

Sierra froze at the all too familiar sarcastic voice of her father. She’d been so focused on Damien, she hadn’t even noticed the man who’d terrorized her nearly her entire life, approaching. She concentrated on putting on her mask before turning to him.