Page 32 of Mountain Struggle

Waiting for her to come back, Damien felt a shiver run down his body—this didn’t feel like sex. Or it did, but it felt like much more than that as well.

He opened the duvet for her to climb under with him.

“Naked?” she asked.

“I always sleep naked. Is that okay?”

“More than okay. But I can’t stay long, alright? Just a quick nap.”

Chapter 11

Tess

When Tess opened her eyes again, the room was already bathed in the softest morning light.

Shit.

She’d meant to take a nap but had slept most of the night in Damien’s arms instead.

And what arms.

Tess looked at him now. Asleep, he looked younger, but even at rest his strength was evident in every line of his body, from his powerful shoulders and arms, down to his defined chest and stomach muscles.

She could still see faint traces of the bruise on his shoulder. She remembered that horrible moment back in the river when he’s asked her to pull on his arm—remembered the grim line of his mouth as she’d done so. He hadn’t made a sound, but she knew she’d caused him great pain.

It still amazed her that he’d jumped into the river for her, knowing—as he had—that they were just as likely to go over the edge. She realized he would have done the same for anyone, but the fact remained that, on that day, he’d done it for her.

She sat up and looked around for their clothes, which lay strewn all over the bedroom floor. She made a quick plan for how to get to the different things she needed—she wasn’t about to strut out there half-naked.

Just as she finished formulating her plan, Damien stirred. He opened his eyes, and she was amazed once again by their ethereally blue color.

“What are you doing, Tess?” he asked, his voice a husky whisper. “Come back to bed.”

She shook her head, covering herself up to her breasts with the duvet. “No way. I’m going to my studio. I don’t want Jamie to find me here.”

He smiled. “He’s with my dad. They’re not going to come back at—” he stopped to look at the clock on his bedside table, “five twenty a.m.”

“Not going to risk it,” she said, sneaking out of the duvet to grab her knickers. “Jamie trusts me.”

He sobered up quickly. “He’s going to have to know eventually, Tess. You know that, right?”

She shrugged, still searching for her bra. Half-naked was not how she’d planned on having this conversation.

If at all.

Damien was out of the bed. Unlike her, he didn’t seem to be looking for his boxer shorts, content to strut around naked. His washboard abs were a work of art—what the French so aptly referred to as la tablette de chocolat.

Her eyes went lower, to where his cock hung proud and, it seemed, already half-hard. For a moment, she felt her resolve waver.

Someone’s happy to see me.

Maybe we have time for a quickie?

Then she thought of Jamie and sprinted towards the spot where she last remembered seeing her bra.

Damien caught up with her in two steps. His fingers went around her wrist, his hold loose—just tight enough to get her attention.

“I mean it. This wasn’t a one-night stand, Tess.” His gorgeous mouth frowned in a sweetly uncertain pout. “At least, not for me.”