Page 166 of Sinclair Duet

“Amber was at your place?”

“I have video proof and a gallon bag full of nanny cams to prove it. Do you want me to come back with Duchess, or do you want to come here?”

Amber had been in both houses. “We aren’t safe either place.”

“We are. The security company is on their way. My locks here are getting changed tonight.”

My headache was waning. “I’ll be there. I can drive myself,” I added before he mentioned a bodyguard.

“Text when you leave and if it takes longer than eleven minutes, I’m coming for you.”

Damien was waiting outside as I pulled into his driveway. His smile was almost the best thing I’d seen all day. Second to the silky black cat in his kitchen.

“I brought some of Duchess’s essentials,” I said as I scooped her into my arms. “Did that mean woman take you on a car ride? I hope you vomited all over her car.” I looked up at Damien. “She’s not a fan of car rides.”

He scratched between her ears. “I’ll get the things out of your car.”

It was almost nine at night by the time the security company had changed all of Damien’s locks and his garage-door codes. Duchess was loving the increased square footage, and I’d begun cooking one of the meals Damien had delivered when he came up behind me and wrapped his arms around me.

“This feels right.”

I laid my head back against his solid chest. “It does.” Setting down the spoon, I spun and looked up at him. “You make me feel safe.”

“You shouldn’t,” he said with a sly grin.

“I shouldn’t?”

“No, you’re not safe with me. I want to do bad things to you later tonight.”

I tipped my head to his chest. “I trust you.”

Damien

The idea of cohabitation had never been as important to me as it was tonight. Although I had plenty of ideas of what I wanted to do to and with Ella, the weight of the day and the range of emotions had taken their toll. After dinner, I took a quick shower. Standing under the spray, I concentrated on the one thing I could control.

Our safety.

Ella was here.

Duchess was here.

I was exactly where I wanted to be.

I would stop at nothing to maintain that sense of security.

With droplets of water dripping from my hair and a towel around my waist, I walked into the bedroom. That well-being I desired was personified in the room before me. Golden illumination shone from the lamps on the bedside stands on both sides of the bed. Duchess was sleeping, curled into a circle near Ella’s feet.

Ella sat against a stack of pillows, her computer in her lap. Her face was pink and freshly washed of cosmetics. Her long dark hair was down, cascading over her shoulders. It was her nightgown that made me smile. She was wearing one of my many Indianapolis Colts t-shirts, and it had never looked better.

“Nice nightgown.”

Her smile lit up the room. “I packed so fast that I forgot a nightgown.”

“Did you forget panties too? Because I’m a big fan of easy access.”

She closed her laptop screen as she scanned me from my wet hair to my toes. “Speaking of easy access, I’m waiting for you to drop the towel.”

Of course I did.