Chapter 3 Sit with me

Olivia slipped her phone back into her clutch, the plastic clicking against her nails as Damian's invitation hung in the air. Her instincts, the ones that had kept her safe and "cautious" for years screamed at her to run. But his voice had a gravity to it, a weight that seemed to pin her to the spot.

"I... I shouldn't," she whispered, her voice betraying her with a slight tremble. "This isn't right. I'm supposed to be here with someone else."

Damian didn't look annoyed; instead, he looked intrigued. He closed the gap between them, not enough to be aggressive, but enough for her to catch the scent of his skin, something like cedar and rain.

"You're here now," he said, his tone firm but edged with a teasing warmth. "And I've never been a fan of wasting an opportunity. Especially when a beautiful woman is standing right in front of me, looking like she's halfway through an escape attempt."

Olivia's lips parted, but the air felt too thick to form words.

Damian tilted his head, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. "Sit with me. I'll make it worth your while. And if you decide you aren't enjoying yourself? You can walk out that door, and I won't say a word to stop you."

The confidence in his voice acted like a magnet, pulling at her resolve. She looked at the empty, luxurious room and then back at him. Her day was already a disaster; her heart was already in pieces. What was one dinner with a handsome stranger?

"Okay," she said, her voice gaining a fraction of strength. "But I can't stay long."

As she moved toward the table, she reached for the back of the chair, but Damian was faster. He pulled it out for her with a fluid, gentlemanly grace that Casper had never possessed. She sat down, her fingers grazing the white linen of the tablecloth as if to ground herself.

When the menus arrived, Olivia's heart sank. The script was an elegant, swirling French that she couldn't begin to decipher. She stared at the page, her face heating up as the silence stretched.

Damian noticed immediately. Without making a scene, he reached across and gently slid the menus toward the edge of the table.

"You won't need those," he said softly, his eyes locking onto hers. "Let me take care of it?"

Olivia blinked, a wave of gratitude washing over her. "But... you don't even know what I like."

Damian leaned back, his silhouette framed by the city lights behind him. "Trust me."

It was a simple phrase, but the way he said it made it feel like a promise.

Olivia let her hands fall to her lap, surrendering to the momentum of the night.

As the food arrived, dishes that looked more like art than a meal, the tension began to melt. The wine was dark and dangerously smooth, and by the second glass, the sharp edges of her heartbreak began to blur.

"You look like you're finally breathing," Damian remarked, watching her over the rim of his glass. "You were so wound up when you walked in."

"It's been a long forty-eight hours," she admitted, her cheeks flushed with a rosy glow.

"I didn't catch your name earlier," he said, though he said it as if he already knew it was something special.

"Olivia," she said, choosing to leave her surname behind. Tonight, she didn't want to be Olivia the jilted girlfriend or Olivia the struggling intern. She just wanted to be Olivia.

"A beautiful name," he praised, his voice a low hum that vibrated in her chest.

By the time they reached the end of the bottle, the world felt soft and tilted. The restaurant's music shifted to something slow and melodic, a song that felt like a heartbeat.

Olivia stood up, her balance a little unsteady, and looked at him.

"Dance with me," she urged. She felt bold, fueled by the wine and the way he looked at her like she was the only person in the world.

Damian rose, his height intimidating yet comforting. He drew her into his arms, his hands large and warm against the small of her back.

Olivia let her head rest against his chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heart.

"This is nice," she murmured into his shirt. "I know that tomorrow I'll wake up and be me again. Brokenhearted, messy me. But tonight... I just want to stay right here with my perfect, hot stranger."

Damian only had a small smile on his lips, he was clearly affected by her last statement. But didn't interrupt her.

He just held her closer, his chin resting atop her head as she rambled about Casper's neglect and how handsome Damian's jawline was. He led her through the dance, his movements steady even as hers became more erratic.

As the song faded, he went to spin her, but Olivia's heels caught. She stumbled, a small gasp escaping her lips.

Damian's reflexes were lightning-fast. He caught her before she could hit the floor, scooping her up so her face was only inches from his.

His gaze had darkened, a raw, unspoken hunger flaring in his blue eyes.

Olivia looked at his lips and felt a surge of reckless desire. She leaned forward, pressing a quick, clumsy peck against his mouth. She laughed, a giddy, breathless sound.

Damian froze for a heartbeat, his breath hitching. Then, he let out a low groan and claimed her mouth properly. It wasn't a "quick peck." It was a deep, searing kiss that tasted of wine and longing.

Olivia melted against him, her fingers tangling in his dark hair.

"Let's get out of here," he rasped against her lips, his voice husky with a need that made her knees weak.

He didn't wait for an answer. He carried her out of the room, her head lolling against his shoulder.

The transition to the hotel was a blur of elevator dings and the scent of expensive sheets. But as the passion began to peak, the world took a violent turn.

The wine and the rich food finally caught up with her.

Olivia pushed him back, her eyes wide with sudden panic. She scrambled for the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before her body revolted.

Damian was there in an instant. There was no judgment in his eyes, only a deep, quiet concern. He knelt on the cold tile beside her, his large hand rubbing steady, soothing circles on her back as she retched.

He pulled her hair back away from her face, his touch surprisingly tender for a man who looked so formidable.

"It's okay," he whispered. "I've got you."

Exhausted, trembling, and completely drained, Olivia finally slumped against him. The last thing she felt was his strong arms lifting her up once more before the darkness took her completely.