Page 144 of Mountain Men Heroes
He shrugged and the daring flash in his eyes died. “Or maybe you should. Maybe you’re not all that into me and don’t know how to say it.”
Her mouth slacked open.
“Or,” she countered. “Maybe you’re not into the whole doctor thing? I get that a lot and the famous ‘it’s not you sweetheart you’re just not the right fit’.”
His face pulled into a scowl. “Don’t go putting words I didn’t say into my mouth.”
Damon palmed her face with a gentle touch. “And it would be any fool’s loss to turn you away,” he whispered roughly. The incredulity in his voice soothed some of her nerves. “Idiots, all of them and if they can’t see how special you are, that’s their problem. But something has fear in your eyes and I don’t think it’s me. And don’t go trying to find excuses that aren’t there. Talk to me.”
Slowly, she slid her hands down his arms to settle on his. “It’s more complicated than I can voice right now.”
His features tightened.
She barely had the fight left in her if he kept looking at her like she was the world for him. Her mouth creased into a deep frown. “This is not some sappy holiday movie, Damon. Insta-love doesn’t exist and insta-families much less.” Disgust left a sour taste in her mouth and dissolved any trace of the high she experienced under his experienced touch. She didn’t want anything permanent, but the ache his touch quieted left her wondering what if.
He stroked a thumb across her cheek. “I’ve claimed you, angel. You can walk out of here right now, but that doesn’t make you any less mine.”
Ivy turned back to the mirror. She didn’t recognize the woman staring back at her.
Damon stepped up behind her and rested his hands on her shoulders with a pleading look in his eyes. She hated that look. Hated it yet couldn’t bring herself to calm the nerves in her gut long enough to ease the guilt she knew ate at his insides.
“Why do you keep calling me that, Damon? angel?” Her gaze floated over to his in the reflection of the mirror. “I’m no one’s angel. No one’s beautiful anything. I’m just another girl, normal as they come.”
“There’s nothing normal about someone as special as you and if you don’t believe that then you’re not looking close enough.”
She turned and he leaned in, resting his hands on the counter, which pinned her in place. “And you are an angel. The kindest soul I’ve ever met.”
“I’m jaded, cynical and if my supervisor is to be believed I like to play God.”
He pulled back. “What the hell does that mean? Play God?”
“You want to know why I’m outta here tomorrow?” She pushed at his chest and he let her pass. Maybe if he knew the truth about her then he wouldn’t want her so much. He would erase the claim he thought he had over her and she could be done with it. Done with him.
Her heart fell a little bit at the thought of never seeing him again.
She walked the perimeter of the room, turning every single light on and then made her way through the rest of the apartment. Anything to shed the romantic vibe that wanted to cling to the place.
But the more lights she flipped, the more he killed.
“Will you stop already?”
“They hurt the eyes. Tell me what you meant.” From across the room she felt his heated stare.
She flushed with anger and balled her fists by her sides. Her heart constricted and she looked at anything in the room besides the man she spoke to. “I killed someone on the job two days before I came here. Not directly but I failed her and the children that depended on her. I know how that sounds, but that’s only the first half of the story. I went digging for information and discovered she was in recovery and trying to pull her life together for her kids. She had almost two years clean.” Her heart hurt. “Then she relapsed. The pressure of being a solo parent, the weight of yet another Christmas… I don’t know.” Her arms fell to her sides.
Ivy held her breath, waiting, watching as silence filled the small apartment. With the drapes closed everything seemed smaller, the walls closer, the space constricting. Dots floated in front of her face and the tiny kitchenette twirled in slow circles.
“Whoa, angel.” Warm arms wrapped around her and for the briefest of moments the world seemed right. “Breathe…you’re having another panic attack.”
Then reality bitch-slapped her.
“No kidding.” Blackness swallowed everything and she let her guard down long enough to bury her nose in his neck for one lungful more of his scent. She could afford that. Hopefully. When she landed in Houston in ten hours she’d forget all about Damon Savage and the penetrating way his eyes held her captive and the pine scent she wanted to rub all over herself until she could smell nothing else. Damn man.
She pushed him away slowly and fought to find a new rhythm to her breathing.
“Everyone, even my hard-ass supervisor, said it was a good call on my part and that I couldn’t do anything to save the mother.” She pressed a hand to her forehead and closed her eyes. “I fought, but I hesitated before I administered the right counter medicines to block the heroin overdose. In the end, nothing worked. But what if I hadn’t hesitated? What if I’d been faster?” She crashed and the sound of her heart monitor flatlining still rings in my ears.”
Damon stroked her cheek. “What did your supervisor say?”