Sarah asked the other girl about Sheikh Rayyan, whose engagement to Hyacinth was yet to be disclosed to the public.
“Not coming,” Hyacinth said with a sigh. “Busy with work, as always.”
Sarah was about to murmur words of comfort when a commotion outside their window caught her attention. The crowd had gone wild again, girls jumping up and down – oh.
Hyacinth, seeing Sarah’s grimace, turned her gaze to where the other girl was staring at. Oh. “And here I thought you were over him,” she teased.
Sarah quickly snapped her gaze back to her friend. “Of course I am.”
“Uh huh.” Hyacinth was clearly unconvinced. “Just promise me I have dibs when you guys make it official. You two are perfect for my show.”
Sarah glared at her friend. “Very funny.” Since the title of Hyacinth’s show was Fuck Being Politically Correct, it was easy to tell which aspect of her relationship with Damian the other girl was alluding to.
“I’m serious, and it will be fun—-”
“What’s going to be fun?”
Sarah jerked in surprise at hearing Damian’s voice. Shit. She looked up, and there he was, looking his usual gorgeous self with a denim jacket thrown over his plaid shirt and jeans.
“I wanted you two to guest in my show—-”
Sarah kicked Hyacinth under the table, but it was too late.
“It’s a deal,” she heard the billionaire say easily.
What?
“If you let me have breakfast alone with my stepsister.”
Sarah groaned at the amount of innuendo he had injected in the last word while the same thing had Hyacinth grinning. “It’s a deal, Mr. Fox.”
And Hyacinth was gone faster than one could say wait, leaving Damian to comfortably slide in her place on the opposite side of the booth.
“Morning, love.”
Shit, shit, shit.
“Morning.” Sarah’s voice was stiff. Memories had flooded her brain the moment he appeared, and all of it was urging her to do a runner…
Damian knew exactly what Sarah was thinking when her cheeks suddenly flushed with color. “Thinking about last night?”
Eep. Sarah could feel herself turning even redder as his words forced her to face up to what she had done. Last night, she had still been on her knees when Damian pulled out of her mouth, and it was hearing that strange but unmistakable popping sound that had snapped Sarah out of the haze of desire she had been trapped in. She had looked up at him in horror, stricken at what she had allowed to transpire. ‘This shouldn’t have happened,’ she had whispered. And then she had hastened to her feet and run away, taking advantage of the fact that Damian still had to do his pants before he could come after her.
She had stuck to Naomi’s side like glue for the rest of the night after that, and when the party came to a close, she had rushed to her room and triple-locked her door before falling into troubled sleep.
But even then, a part of her had known she was only delaying the inevitable—-
Oh my God!
Sarah shot up in her seat when she felt his hand touch her knee.
“Relax,” Damian purred. “No one can see us.” He had her legs hidden between his, and with Sarah so much smaller and slimmer than him, other people at the diner would only be able to see one side of his denim-clad thigh and not much else.
His fingers started caressing her knee, just slow, gentle strokes that shouldn’t have been erotic or thrilling in any way, but because this was Damian, it just was, and she had to bite her lip hard to keep herself from crying out.
“Have you thought about my proposal?” he asked softly.
“I already gave you my answer,” she muttered.
“But it’s not the answer I want,” he drawled, “so change it.”
Aaaargh. He was doing it again, going all cocky on her that she could only glower at him even as her toes curled hard inside her boots.
“Did I just turn you on, love?”
“No.” But this was a lie, of course, and the gleam of amusement in his sexy, blue eyes told Sarah that he was on to her, too.
“Let me do something about it.”
“There’s nothing to—-” She felt the billionaire squeeze her knee under the table, and oh God, it was more than enough to have her insides tightening with need, and she quickly sucked her breath to keep herself from making any noise.
“You were saying?”
She stared at him, torn between dismay and outrage. “For God’s sake, Damian.” They still had a hundred-plus guests staying in the same lodge as them, and they only had to be caught once—-
His hand had moved, his fingers trailing up on the inner side of her thigh, and Sarah reacted without thinking, her legs snapping close…and trapped his hand between them in the process.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
She might just have made things worse—-
Oh my God!
Damian squeezed the tender skin of her thigh, and she found herself gripping one edge of the table.