The Most Special Chosen Read online

  His confusion is obvious. “You are not pleased with the way I treat you?”

  “No, Damien, it’s not that at all. I love how you treat me. I’m just . . . ” I try to figure out how to explain the situation. Clearly things are different where he grew up. “I’m not used to it yet. I guess I forget sometimes.” This isn’t a battle I’m willing to fight.

  “I understand, Chérie. I forget sometimes that American customs are different from European customs. You will become accustomed to my ways, just as I will grow accustomed to yours.”

  “Yeah, exactly.” Hey, if he wants to treat me like a princess, who am I to forbid it?

  The lights flicker in the universal call to head inside. Damien presents our tickets, and the usher calls to a second gentleman to lead us to our seats. We follow along behind the usher up the stairs and into a private balcony room. This will be a new experience.

  I take in the view beneath us. The orchestra has already come in and is tuning their instruments.

  “Elysabeth, would you care for a drink?”

  “What? Oh, what’s available?” The man standing by Damien’s chair offers me a short menu. I take a quick look and see it’s all wine and champagne. “Just a water, please.” Damien appears ready to override me again, so I throw him a sharp look.

  I see the exact moment he decides to let it go. He hands the man back the menu and orders his own drink.

  From the moment the curtain rises, I’m lost in the play. I’m amazed that I can see the entirety of the stage. Because we’re seated at the side of the theater, I expected at least a portion of the stage to be obscured.

  When the curtain drops and the lights come up for intermission, Damien stands and offers me his arm once more.

  “Come, Chérie, walk with me and stretch your legs.” The idea sounds silly considering how much legroom we have, but I do need to use the restroom.

  Unsurprisingly, the line for the ladies’ room is insanely long. When I finally emerge, I’m met with a sight I’m becoming used to. Damien is standing in a corner surrounded by several women, all vying for his attention.

  I watch him for a moment, curious to see how, or if, he’ll extricate himself from the situation. A tactical error on my part, apparently.

  “Surely you aren’t lost? I’d be happy to help such a beautiful lady find her way.” I glance at the speaker. He’s tall, with short blond hair, green eyes, and a chiseled jaw. He’s actually kind of cute.

  I offer him a smile for the compliment. “No, thank you. I’m fine.”

  “That you are.” His voice has dropped to a low rumble. Probably something he thinks is sexy.

  My smile drops to a frown of disgust. “Does that cheesy line actually work for you?”

  “Of course, why wouldn’t it?” He flashes a stellar smile, and I can see why he’s so confident of his success. But I need to go rescue Damien.

  “Excuse me.” I walk away from him right up to the ladies and push my way through like they don’t exist. “Damien, darling, intermission is nearly over. We should be getting back to our seats.”

  I almost grin at the relief on his face. “Of course, Elysabeth.”

  I give the women a falsely sweet smile. “If you ladies will excuse us . . . ” Sensing a lost cause, they leave somewhat dejectedly, and we’re free to return to our seats and enjoy the rest of the show.

  Once the final applause dies down, I take Damien’s offered arm and let him lead me downstairs. “Damien, that was amazing! I’ve been wanting to see Les Miz for ages. Thanks for taking me.”

  He smiles. “I am pleased that you enjoyed it so much, Chérie. Finally, I am able to introduce you to something new.”

  “And I greatly appreciate it.” As we step outside, I’m met with a blast of cold air that renders my shawl woefully inadequate. Goosebumps race along my body, as though my limbs are having a contest to see which can play host to the most of them.

  Damien, ever the gentleman, sheds his jacket and drapes it around my shoulders. “We should hurry; I would not wish you to get too cold.”

  “Thank you, Damien.”

  As we pull into my driveway, I try to think of some way to convince him to come inside, but he beats me to it. “Might I convince you to make me some more hot chocolate, Chérie?”

  I grin. “Of course.” For you, anything. Of course, he can’t know that. Once we’re inside, I give him back his jacket with a chaste thank you kiss.

  We sit at the kitchen table, quietly discussing the show as we drink our hot chocolate. It’s nice, almost domestic, and I’m amazed by how natural this feels. There’s something special between us, of that I’m certain.

  As he leaves, Damien takes my hand, and meets my eyes as his lips brush my knuckles. I can see the request in them, almost pleading. He wants more, and I want to give it to him, but I drop my gaze at the last second, afraid that I’ll react like I did before.

  “Good night.”

  Disappointment flashes in his eyes. “Good night, Elysabeth.”

  I bite my lip as he turns away. “Damien?” He turns back to me and I pull him to me for a hug. “I really appreciate you letting me take this at my own pace.”

  “You need not thank me for common courtesy, Elysabeth.”

  “It’s hardly common. So, really, thanks.”

  He steps back, and his gaze drills into me. I don’t know what he’s looking for, but he obviously finds it, because he nods. “Pleasant dreams, Chérie.”

  “You too, Damien, and thanks again for a wonderful night.” I blush as I realize just how that can be construed.

  If his grin is anything to go by, his mind has already found its way there. “You are quite welcome. I am pleased that you enjoyed yourself. Until next time, Chérie.”

  ***

  I glance at my ringing phone and briefly consider not answering. Not that it would do any good. I know my mom will want to know if I’ve invited Damien to dinner yet, and if I don’t answer now, she’ll call back later.

  “Hi, Mom.”

  “Lys, Mija, how are you?”

  “I’m good, Mom. You?”

  “I’m good, Lys. So tell me, what have you been up to?”

  “Damien took me to see Les Misérables last weekend. It was awesome! Just as good as I’d always imagined. And we were seated in a private balcony!”

  “That sounds fun, Mija. And when will your father and I get to meet him?”

  I sighed, frustrated. “I don’t know, but why does it matter? Why can’t I just enjoy seeing him? Why does he have to meet you? I’m able to decide if someone is okay to date by now.”

  “Elysabeth!” She rebukes me. “Don’t give me that attitude. We have discussed this. You asked for time and I have given it to you.”

  “It’s been a week!” I practically yell into the phone.

  “Elysabeth! Que te dije?” Her voice is razor sharp. I can easily picture her angry, disappointed look.

  My eyes widen and I hunch down in my seat. Shoot, I have to keep my temper under control. “Sorry, Mom. I haven’t talked to him about it.”

  “I think you should. Soon.”

  “Yes, Mom,” if only to get you to leave me alone. “I need to work on my homework with finals coming up. Can I talk to you later?”

  “All right, Lys, but I expect to meet your Damien soon.”

  “Yes, Mom, love you.”

  “I love you too, Mija.”

  CHAPTER 6

  I’m well ensconced in my homework when Damien’s ringtone resounds through my room.

  “Hi, Damien,” I answer eagerly.

  “How are you, Elysabeth?”

  “I’m good. You?”

  “I find myself missing your presence.” My answering smile is instantaneous.

  “I miss you too.” There’s a short pause. “So, what’s up?”

  “Oh, forgive me, Chérie. I called to ask if I may see you.”

  I stare at the books and notes in front of me. I’ve been ignoring them too long. “I’d lo
ve to, but I’ve got to keep working on my finals. I’ve fallen behind on my projects and studying, and I need to correct that.”

  “I understand, Chérie. I respect your work ethic.”

  I can tell he’s trying to hide his disappointment, and I really want to see him. “Do you have anything to work on, Damien?”

  “I do. I have a paper for World Ethics, and a business presentation for Leadership. I suppose I should follow your example and work on them.”

  “Maybe you can bring your work here. Or I could work on my assignments at your place?”

  “That is an excellent idea, Chérie. But since you are already working on projects, and I have not yet started, I will come to you. I will see you there soon.”

  “Okay, sounds good. I’ll see you in a bit.”

  I hang up with a grin. I’m sure finals work will be a lot more fun with a study buddy, though perhaps not as productive.

  Briefly, I contemplate changing out of my study clothes which consist of my typical pajama bottoms, sports bra, and a hoodie because it’s chilly. I discard the idea, because less clothes mean Damien’s hands can make skin-on-skin contact much more easily. And, of course, my hands will need to do some exploring as well. I long to run my fingers through his hair, down his chest—I cut off that line of thinking with a sigh. It’s not going to help me get homework done.

  To give myself a moment to calm down, I head downstairs for a drink.

  Shawn is in the kitchen and takes in my appearance. “No date today?”

  “Damien’s coming here. We’re having a homework afternoon.”

  “I see. Well, you enjoy your homework.”

  “Don’t you start, Shawn. You know I’m not like that.” Or, at least, I never used to be. Wasn’t I just thinking about that? I shake my head to dismiss the thought.

  Shawn takes a deep breath. “You’re right, I’m sorry. Just, something about him sets my teeth on edge. When he’s around, my hair literally stands on end.”

  I wrinkle my nose. “That’s weird. But you still know me better than that.”

  “I know, I’m sorry. I’m going to go work on my own homework before I say something really stupid.” My heart goes out to him. He looks like someone kicked his puppy.

  “Shawn?” He turns and looks at me. “You’re still my best man.”

  He grins and winks, but I can tell by the look in his eyes that his heart isn’t fully in it. “Don’t you know it.” With a quick hug, he heads off to his room, looking a little less dejected.

  I head back up to my room, connect my phone to my speaker, and put on my ‘study’ playlist. It’s mostly Spanish music. My mom played the same songs all the time as I was growing up, to remind herself of Mexico, meaning they’ve become strictly background noise for me. Shawn thinks it’s funny that I often sing along, but I genuinely enjoy the songs, and I often don’t even realize I’m singing.

  Sometime later, as I’m deeply engrossed in my work, I’m startled by a voice behind me. “You sing beautifully, Chérie.” I spin around, thoroughly surprised to see Damien there. “I am sorry I startled you. Shawn let me in.”

  I wave away his apology. “Oh, no, it’s okay.”

  “I did not know you spoke Spanish,” he says, leaning against the door jamb.

  “Yeah, my mom’s from Mexico. She taught me.”

  “It is a beautiful language. I am taking Spanish for my foreign language requirement.”

  “It should be pretty easy for you with the languages you already know. From what I’ve learned in French class, the two have some similarities, and Spanish is definitely the easier of the two languages.”

  “Some small ones, I suppose, but it is more difficult than you would think.”

  “Oh, pobre Damien. Tienes dificultades con el español?” I tease him.

  “Et toi, Elysabeth,” he asks with a grin, “avec ton Français?”

  “Mieux que ton espagnol, je pense.”

  He holds his hands up in a gesture of surrender. “You win, Chérie, you win. Now, I believe we are here to do homework.”

  “You are quite right,” I say, adopting a lofty tone. “It was rude to interrupt me in such a manner.” My grin removes the sting from the words.

  Damien offers me a formal court bow. “Forgive me, dearest. How may I ever remedy such a grave injustice?”

  Smiling, I indulge in our silly behavior. “I believe a declaration of your undying affections and a heartfelt apology would be sufficient.”

  He steps forward and drops to his knees at my feet then takes my hands in his, as though begging for his life. “Ah, my Elysabeth, you know I love you more than life itself. For you, I would travel to the ends of the world. I would pluck out mine own heart, if it would see you happy. Forgive my dreadful injustice against you. Simply tell me how to appease you.”

  Feeling somewhat self-conscious at the seriousness of his tone, I give him a little shove. “Enough, enough!” I’m laughing, trying to keep the situation lighthearted. “You have my forgiveness.” I stand to head downstairs. “I’m going to get a—”

  Damien pulls me back to face him, showing me the raw emotion in his eyes. He pulls me close and I feel trapped by his gaze. “I do care for you greatly, Elysabeth. Truly.” His voice is soft.

  Give in.

  The voice is stronger than usual, but I attribute it to my growing desire for the man holding me. I do as it suggests, closing my eyes and tilting my head in the universal invitation. His lips meet mine softly, but the kiss conveys a strength of emotion that surprises me. His kiss is telling me the story of his emotional attachment. I’m surprised by the depth of feeling considering how short a time we’ve been together.

  It’s everything I’ve ever imagined a perfect first kiss being, despite it not being our first. It’s soft, slow, sensual, and heartfelt. He pulls back, seeking my approval. A small grin is all he needs. With a sigh he pulls me to him tightly, crushing my lips with his. It’s a repeat of that afternoon at the marketplace, but I have no desire to stop this time.

  He backs me to my bed, pushing me down, and covering my body with his. My hands roam his back, as his travel up my sides. I wrap my legs around his, pulling him closer, and grinding against him, eliciting a groan.

  “Elysabeth, you drive me wild!” I kiss my way down his neck, stopping at the sensitive juncture to his shoulders and bite down lightly. His guttural groan of pleasure leads me to bite again, slightly harder.

  He pulls away from me and leans down to my neck, running his lips along the curve from ear to shoulder. I suddenly feel something sharp, like he has fangs! “Mmm, yes, bite me, Damien!”

  He pulls away from me suddenly, and I realize what I’ve just said. I can feel myself turning crimson. “What did you say, Elysabeth?” he asks guardedly.

  Thankfully, I don’t have to answer. A knock at the door has us flying further apart than we already are.

  “I’m really sorry if I’m disturbing you two,” comes Shawn’s voice from outside. He sounds anything but sorry. “But Lys, someone is calling for you.” I adjust my clothes and walk to the door.

  I open it with a smile. “You’re only interrupting our work, but that’s okay.”

  His skeptical look lands on Damien, before morphing into surprise; shock, even. When I turn to look at Damien myself, I see nothing out of the ordinary. Shrugging, I turn back to Shawn and hold out my hand. “I muted the phone,” he tells me.

  “Thanks, Shawn.” His answering smile is off, almost wary, which confuses me.

  When he turns away, I close the door and un-mute the phone. “Hello?”

  “Elysabeth?” The voice sounds dreadfully familiar.

  “May I ask who’s calling?”

  “Lizzy, it’s me. Why is that nerd answering your phone?” It’s Zane, my ex-boyfriend. He calls every few weeks trying to get me to go out with him again. And he’s never learned that I hate being called Lizzy.

  “You must have a wrong number.” I hang up without giving him a chance to reply,
and quickly program his number into the phone so it will show up on caller ID. I don’t want Shawn answering him again. It’s a shame that cordless phones don’t have individual ringtones like cell phones do. I look back up at Damien with a smile. “I suppose we really should get to our work.”

  “Yes, indeed. I must thank Shawn for his timing.” He isn’t the least bit sarcastic. I know he really is thankful we’d been interrupted before doing anything stupid.

  We buckle down and work on finals for a few hours. I finally close my books and plop down on my bed next to him around five. Grinning, he closes his books as well, pulling me up against him and stroking my hair. We just sit that way for a while.

  I notice Damien really taking in my room. He comments on some of the figurines. “I particularly like your mask collection, Chérie. Do you ever wear them?”

  “Rarely. I don’t get many chances, you know?” He nods, and I tell him how I built up my collection after my mom bought me the red and black mask years ago.

  We’re so comfortable, and there’s an air of such relaxation that I decide to bring up dinner with my parents. “Damien?” He momentarily stops stroking my hair to answer.

  “Yes, Elysabeth?”

  “I’ve told my parents about you, and they’re eager to meet you.”

  “I am perfectly amenable to that idea,” he says easily. “I am surprised they did not request a meeting earlier.”

  “Oh, they did, but I didn’t want to freak you out. You know, meeting the parents and all that.” I grin. “I’ve heard it can send guys running for the hills.”

  “I have no intention of giving you up, Chérie.” My grin grows wider. I don’t intend to let him get away either.

  “Would tomorrow work? I’m having dinner with them at five. I can let my mom know to expect one more.”

  “That sounds delightful, Chérie.”

  “Great, let me give her a call.” I stand to retrieve my phone from my desk. I decide to make the call from there, not wanting Damien to overhear my mom’s excitement.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi Dad!”

  “Oh, hello Sweetheart. How are you?”

  “I’m great, Dad. Can I talk to Mom?”

  “Of course, hang on.”