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Authors: Susan Lyons

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“We discussed it and agreed,” I told him. “Mom wants to hear about it when we’re all together.”

“Where is she?” Dad glanced around.

“She went upstairs to change, but that was over half an hour ago, so she probably got onto e-mail or made a phone call. Matt just got here and he’s up with Merilee.”

“I’ll go round them up.”

When he’d gone, I said, “Sorry,” to Damien.

“Nothing to apologize for. They don’t want to see you get hurt. Nor do I.”

A few minutes later, we were all assembled in the kitchen.

“Theresa, there’s e-mail from Jenna,” Merilee said. “She sold her surf board and she’s taking a couple jobs with good tips, putting together gas money so she can drive home.”

“In that rattletrap MGB?” Dad frowned.

“It got her to California,” Mom said. “One hopes it will get her home. In the meantime,” she turned and fixed her steady gaze on me, “let’s talk about this tabloid issue.”

“Damien’s agent and publicist wanted to handle it one way,” I said, “but he and I talked and we decided we don’t care about spin, and even if it might do both of our careers a tiny bit of harm, we want to tell the truth.”

Mom and Dad did their silent communication thing, then Dad said, a touch grudgingly, “It’s hard to argue with the truth.”

“And what, exactly, is the truth?” Mom asked.

When I opened my mouth to answer, she said, “No. I want to hear this from Damien.”

He put his arm around my shoulder and I wrapped mine around his waist. “That Tezzie and I care about each other and we’re in a committed relationship.”

“Committed?” The word burst out of me. Neither of us had used it before.

His body tensed then he dropped his arm and stood in front of me. Gently he cupped my face in both hands. “Isn’t that what we’ve been talking about?”

“Y-yes.” Joy flooded through me. Not that I hadn’t believed he was serious before, but…“Isn’t commitment a word men shy away from?”

He gave a soft laugh. “Too right. But then I met you.”

“How can you be committed to someone you’ve just met?” Merilee asked. She probably meant to sound cynical, but instead the question came out almost plaintive.

Happiness bubbling in my veins, I turned to her. “I can’t believe you’re asking that. Isn’t that exactly what happened with you and Matt?”

“Oh!” Her lips rounded around the word and her face brightened. “Of course it is.” She gave him a big hug.

“It’s just that you met as kids, and we met as adults.”

“I see what you mean.” A smile flashed. “Okay, I get it. And I’m happy for you, Theresa, I really am.” She gave an exaggerated pout. “Even if you
are
stealing my thunder.”

Selfishly, I wanted my moment in the sun, with my newfound confidence and sexy lover, but in the interest of family harmony, I said, “I saw champagne chilling in the fridge. Let’s open it and toast the bride and groom.”

Dad did the honors with the champagne bottle, and when we all held a chilled flute, I made the toast. “Here’s to M&M. We’ve always known they belonged together, and now it’s about to be official.”

“Best wishes,” Damien added. “Here’s to a wonderful life together.”

“It will be,” Merilee said, clicking her glass to Matt’s.

Then we settled in, over a couple of platters of cheese, crackers, and olives, to a Fallon-style conversation that ranged here, there, everywhere, and back again. At some point, Damien quietly took charge of the barbecue, and before long we were all sampling the delicious result.

Although my parents hadn’t fully accepted him, he was winning them over. Unlike Jeffrey and many of my male colleagues, he was a good listener. He actually paid attention to what others were saying—whether it was Mom discussing a legal technicality, Dad expounding on his latest research, Merilee musing about whether she wanted a short or long train on her wedding gown, or Matt laying out the details of the Mexican Riviera cruise. Damien asked intelligent questions, too. And I knew he wasn’t simply being polite, he really was interested.

All too soon, he said, “I’d better run upstairs and change into something more respectable for the signing.” He flashed a quick grin. “Good excuse for getting out of doing dishes, isn’t it?”

“The cook never has to do the dishes,” Mom said.

As soon as he’d gone, she turned to me. “I have to say, Theresa, he’s growing on me,” and Dad chimed in with, “I agree.”

I beamed at them. “Damien has that effect. Now, I’d better get changed, too.”

He’d left my door ajar and when I went in, I found him bare-chested, wearing the same pants he’d worn in Honolulu, shaking out a short-sleeved cotton shirt. “Hey, Tezzie. What’s the verdict? Did I pass?”

“You’re growing on them.”

“Like fungus? Or like a guy who deserves to be with their daughter?” He put down the shirt and came over to tug me into a loose embrace. “Hopefully the latter, because I like them. Your parents are caring people and passionate about what they do, and Merilee and Matt are cute. Hope I get a chance to meet your other two sisters one day.”

I gazed up at him, thinking how utterly different he was than I’d first assumed. “Damien?”

“Yeah?”

“Where will you be a week from this coming Saturday?”

“Don’t remember offhand, but there’s bound to be a signing. Why?” Then he snapped his fingers. “Is that the wedding?”

I nodded. “I suppose there’s no way it would fit your schedule, but I’d love to have you there as my date.”

It took him no more than a second to think about it. “I’ll do my damnedest.”

“But didn’t you say your book tour is hectic?”

“Bobby’s an expert at scheduling. Maybe we can juggle things.”

“I don’t want to completely disrupt your plans or make a lot of extra work for your assistant.”

I must have been frowning, because he smoothed my forehead with his thumb. “Theresa, do you want me to be there?”

I would only, always, be honest with him. “Yes, I do.”

“Then I want to be there, too.”

“That’s wonderful.” For a long moment, we gazed into each other’s eyes. “You know I’m crazy about you?” I said softly.

“Good. Because I’ve fallen for you, head over heels.”

“Really?” I still had trouble believing it.

Tenderly he cupped my face in both hands, staring into my eyes, caressing my skin, pressing a little to feel the bone structure beneath. Like he was testing my feelings, or his own. The expression on his face was so caring, so naked, it brought tears to my eyes.

“It’s been one wild ride, hasn’t it, Tezzie?” he said softly. “And along the way, you got to me in a way no one else ever has. You challenge me, you turn me on. Sexually, intellectually, emotionally. You make me want…”

“What do you want?” My voice came out choky with emotion.

“You.” Gently he stroked his thumbs across my temples into my hair, staring tenderly into my face as if he cherished me. “I want you.”

“I want you, too.” A tear overflowed and tracked its way toward my curved, trembling lips.

“Then that’s what we’ll have.”

As he bent his head to kiss me, I knew I’d never felt so happy and so optimistic about the future.

APHRODISIA BOOKS are published by

Kensington Publishing Corp.
119 West 40th Street
New York, NY 10018

Copyright © 2009 by Susan Lyons

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

Aphrodisia and the A logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.

ISBN: 978-0-7582-5012-4

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