Nobody's Perfect (18 page)

"I'm not talking about a curl-your-toes, take-your-breath-away kiss, unless that's what you'd like."

She shook her head like a scared little bunny in Marisol's cartoon movies, and he grinned, even though he wished she did want that, because
he
sure as hell did. "I just want to kiss you and have you kiss me back. Mutual give and take. No tongues. No hands below the waist."

Sounded like he was ordering an oil change off the quick-lube menu—top off the fluids, check the air filter, change the oil.

"Neck."

Neck? She wanted to neck? Fuck yeah!
He grinned. I'd love to neck."

Her eyes grew wide. "I mean, no hands
below
the neck."

Damián's spirits deflated a bit. No, wait. It sure sounded like she was agreeing to kiss him, despite having narrowed down the playing field. There was a lot he could do in that region of the face, neck, and shoulders, so the battle wasn't lost yet. "Sounds good to me. I think that would be a fantastic present, Savi."

"When do you want me to give you your…present?"

"Why don't you let me surprise you?"

The wary look returned. Savi didn't like surprises. How fucking sad was that?

Without responding, she lifted her mug to her mouth and took a cautious sip, then a bigger one. She avoided looking at him when she set down the mug. Her lips were wet with coffee and Damián just about leaned over to kiss her then and there.

But anticipation would be good for them both, even if Savi didn't agree. He'd wait for the perfect moment to claim his birthday kiss.

* * *

All day long on Damián's birthday, Savi had been on edge. Every time he came near her, she steeled herself for the kiss she'd promised him. What had possessed her to agree to something as ridiculous as that? Well, that had an easy answer. Money. She didn't have any. What could she possibly buy Damián for his birthday that he'd actually want?

But a kiss? Could she afford the cost that gift would have on her psyche? She'd long ago stopped bartering parts of her body to men.

Damián entered the living room, where she'd been reading the same paragraph over and over for the last half hour. She held her breath. Would he claim his kiss now? Her heart drummed in her ears, and she had to remind herself to breathe again. When she looked up, he just grinned at her. The bastard knew the effect he was having on her. Why didn't he just take his damned birthday kiss and stop torturing her?

Instead, he walked into the bedroom, pulling off his shirt as he went, giving her a glimpse of his well-muscled back. She noticed he was limping again, worse than he had when they'd first met. If she asked about it, he'd just say it was nothing. Maybe Marc could take a look at it when they were at his house tonight for the party.

She looked through the doorway into the bedroom. Oh, this was totally ridiculous. Mari would be home in a couple hours and Savi would not let him kiss her in front of their daughter. All she needed was for Mari to think Savi and Damián were going to get married or fulfill some other childish princess fantasy of her daughter's. So not going to happen.

Savi got up from the sofa and walked into the bedroom. Expecting Damián to be in the bathroom getting ready for a shower, she was surprised to find him lying on the bed. Half naked. Luckily, the top half.

He grinned. "I'm ready for my kiss."

Savi's heart stopped, then pounded back to life with a vengeance. No way. Not on the bed.

"Remember, though,
querida
, you can't put your hands anywhere below my neck, even if you want to touch."

What? If
she
wanted to touch? She hadn't set the rule to restrict
her
hand movements, damn it. Her gaze roamed to his bare chest, tracing with her eyes a long silver scar until it curved to his side. The menacing dragon seemed to roar to life across his left pec. Did it just jump at her? His mischievous grin told her he'd intentionally flexed his muscle to make the dragon move.

This room usually was on the chilly side, but Savi's face grew hot. "I don't think…"

"Good. I don't want you to think. I want you to feel." He held out his hand to her.

After searching her mind to find a plan of attack—or retreat—she surrendered and walked over to him, her feet growing heavier with each step.

Damián's smile faded and he stared at her lips, imagining how it would feel to have them touching his again. "Don't be afraid of me,
mi mariposa
. You know I won't hurt you."

He waited patiently for her, but she still wasn't sure what he expected her to do. She wasn't going to get onto the bed with him. No way. Savi retreated a step. In an instant, Damián swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, closing the gap between them in one easy motion. The room closed in on her.

"Breathe slowly, Savi."

She didn't realize she was practically hyperventilating until now. Damián placed his hands firmly on the sides of her head, tilting it back to meet his gaze. "Look at me,
querida
. Breathe in." She did so. "And out." Slowly, the dizziness left her and she remembered how to breathe without instruction.

Her face grew warm with embarrassment. Or was it because he held her so tightly? Having his hands on her head hadn't triggered anything bad for her. Men definitely had held her head before, but apparently not at this angle. She was floored there actually was a touch-safe zone on her body.

Before she had time to think about what he intended to do, Damián's face lowered to hers. He stood at least half a foot taller than her five-four frame and it took him a while to get close enough for the warning bells to go off.

She tried to wrench herself free of his hands. "I can't."

"Yes, you can. It's just a simple birthday kiss." He hovered just inches away, and his breath was warm on her nose. His hands continued to cage her head. She needed to get away and tried to pull back. He released her head, and she gasped for air.

Her gaze was drawn inextricably to his lips and a stray thought had her wondering what they'd feel like against hers. Again. No, she didn't really want to know that.

Or did she?

Damián's fingers brushed the loose strands of her hair behind her ears, leaving a trail of tingling skin in their wake. His hands trailed down to her shoulders and he brushed the pads of his thumbs in a circular motion against the lines of her jaw.

"So soft. Just like I remember."

Distant memories of their time in the beach cave niggled at the edges of her mind. She'd tamped down those memories, along with all the bad ones from her past, except during times when she'd sought refuge in that place to escape the pain in the present. Not having Damián in her life beyond that one perfect day had been one of the hardest things to survive. But she'd gotten over him. Even forgotten him.

Hadn't she?

Well, except for every time she looked at her daughter and found herself staring into his eyes.

But she didn't want
any
man in her life. She needed to focus on Mari's safety and on getting her career back on track. Getting involved with Damián would just complicate things. She had enough complications already.

But he's just asking for a kiss—not for you to have sex with him.

An unfamiliar heaviness pervaded her lower body, then several pulse points began throbbing as her heart thrummed its erratic beat.
No!
She wouldn't let her body override her common sense.

His head remained still, but his lips brushed hers as he slowly turned his head back and forth. He captured her lower lip and sucked gently, then released her, keeping his word and not forcing his tongue into her mouth. Instead, he covered her mouth with his and ground his lips against hers. When she tried to refill her lungs, his lips broke free and blazed a trail to the side of her neck. Oh, dear lord, she didn't want him to do this. She parted her lips to tell him to stop, but moaned instead. Her face grew even hotter with embarrassment.

Damián's right hand skimmed along her shoulder and she tensed, expecting him to break her rule and maul her breast—or worse. He surprised her again when he just rested his hand on her shoulder, which nearly made her knees buckle as she melted against him like chocolate left in a hot car.

What was he doing to her?

His lips burned her skin wherever they touched—and they seemed to be touching her everywhere. Everywhere above the neck, at least. Who knew limiting him to that part of her body could produce this much…

No!
Savi pushed him away with all the force she could muster and he staggered back, thrown off balance. She'd vowed long ago to never let a man play her body like this again. Never to let a man make her body respond sexually.

The hurt and confusion on Damián's face made her feel a pang of guilt, but she refused to let it dissuade her.

He sighed. "Another trigger?"

She didn't trust her voice and just shook her head. Well, maybe. Her entire freaking body was a trigger.

When he smiled, it was her turn to be confused. "That's got to be the hottest birthday present I've ever gotten."

She hadn't really given him anything, had she? She didn't even remember kissing him back. One good thing, though. At least he considered the gift delivered and she didn't have to worry about kissing him anymore.

* * *

"…Happy Birthday to you." He'd listened to them sing to him, lots of Damiáns and one sweet "Daddy" in the chorus.

Damián grinned, surrounded by his family singing to him. Hearing Marisol, Savi, Dad and Karla, Marc and Angelina, and Grant all singing to him was about the second-nicest birthday present he'd ever gotten, the first being that mind-blowing kiss he'd had with Savi earlier today. He looked across the table at her smiling face. Damn, but the woman sure had cranked up his libido with that kiss.

"Blow out the candles, Daddy!"

Damián pulled his mind away from the carnal thoughts that had been hounding him all afternoon and evening, and looked down at the slightly lopsided chocolate cake.

"You made this for me,
mi
muñequita
?"

Marisol nodded and smiled, rightly proud of her accomplishment. Most beautiful cake he'd ever seen. She stood beside him, her little hand resting on his leg, and looked across the table. "Karla and Angie helped, too. And Boots!"

The kitten heard his name and came over to rub against Damián's leg.
Why me? All the people in here and he has to pick me.

Karla stood by ready to cut the cake. "Mari did all the hard parts. I just read the instructions on the box while Angie was busy working on dinner prep."

Angie smiled. "Marisol has some serious talent. Baking will never be my expertise."

Damián shook his head. "Anyone who cooks like you do doesn't need another expertise."

For the first time, he noticed the dark circles under her eyes. He glanced over at Marc, who looked like hell, too. He remembered back to New Year's weekend in Aspen and the conversation about Marc's mask. ]

Damián suddenly realized Marc wasn't the only one of the Masters at Arms Club owners wearing a mask. Damián hadn't revealed himself to Savi, either.

Before he had much time to think about how to remedy that, Marisol reminded him about the candles. Damián met Karla's and Angelina's gazes and mouthed a silent thank you to them over Marisol's head, then tweaked his daughter's nose. "Thanks, doll-baby, for making this beautiful cake for me. Best present I could get."

He looked across the table at Savi and winked. Her face turned pink. At least she hadn't forgotten yet.

Marisol crawled up into his lap. "Do you want me to help blow them out, Daddy?"

"I thought you'd never ask." He wrapped his arm protectively around her and they leaned toward the cake. "One, two—"

"Wait!" Her tiny hand yanked at his ponytail, jerking his head back. "You have to make a wish first, Daddy."

A wish? Damián hadn't made a wish for anything since he was twelve, sitting in the ER waiting along with Mamá and Rosa to hear how Papá was doing after several farm workers had found him face down in a field he'd been harvesting for the rich bastards up in Rancho.

That wish hadn't been granted. He pulled back and looked across the table at Savi as he placed his arm more firmly around their daughter. Maybe his answer would be the same, but, then again, maybe God would grant him a positive answer this time.

Under his scrutiny, Savi nibbled on her lower lip, reminding him for the millionth time today of the special birthday kiss she'd shared with him earlier. Yeah, there was only one thing he wanted—even if it were impossible.

So as not to disappoint his daughter, he formulated the wish in his mind. Thank goodness birthday wishes had to remain a secret in order to have any chance in hell of coming true. "Got it." He and Marisol leaned forward again. "One, two, three." They blew out all the candles together—all twenty-eight of them.
Mierda
, some days he felt more like fifty-eight.

Then his daughter pulled his goatee toward her face and kissed his cheek, his innocent child, content to live in the moment without a care in the world. His childhood had been taken away from him; he wouldn't let that happen to Marisol.

After Karla cut the cake, Angelina brought a container of chocolate ice cream from the kitchen. He almost asked for a bottle of cinnamon, but didn't. Having a birthday party just made him think of Mamá
,
who always sprinkled a little of the spice on his chocolate ice cream.

Whoa!
What was with all the trips down memory lane tonight? He hadn't thought about that in a long time, but somehow felt closer to Mamá as a whiff of cinnamon reached him, anyway.
What the…?
She'd been gone since he was fifteen, but her spirit stayed close to his heart. Mamá and
Papá
were enjoying their well-earned rest. They'd worked so hard so that he and Rosa could have a better life than they'd had, which only wound up putting them both six feet under long before their time. He'd lost two older siblings much too early. Mamá told him once—one of the few times she'd spoke about her dead children—their deaths could have been prevented if life hadn't been so hard for the family.