She chuckled as the waiter didn’t so much as blink an eye. “I’m hopelessly gauche,” she said by way of apology to Damon.

“You’re delightful,” he said with a smile. “Are you hungry at all?”

She shook her head, knowing her stomach wouldn’t tolerate food after all of today’s upheaval.

Awkward silence stretched between them, and Faith fidgeted with her table napkin to cover her unease. The waiter returned bearing their drinks, and she latched gratefully onto the cool glass.

As the waiter walked away, Damon fixed her with his gaze. “Now, what’s bothering you?” he asked.

She sipped at her root beer then set the glass down with a sigh. “First you have to tell me how a man I thought to be a simple club manager has somehow turned into Mr. GQ.”

He offered a wry smile. “I don’t believe I ever claimed to be a simple club manager.”

“No, I don’t suppose you did,” she admitted. “The Bentley might have been a bit overdone though.”

He chuckled and took another sip of his wine. “Okay, I admit, I was trying to impress you. Did it work?”

She shrugged. “I think I’m more confused than impressed, but then I seem to be wallowing in confusion lately.”

The amused twinkle in his eye faded and was replaced by genuine concern. He reached across the table and laid his hand on top of hers. “If there’s something I can do to help, Faith, I will.”

She slowly pulled her hand away and put it in her lap. “I admit, there were things I wanted to discuss with you, a subject I thought you might have considerable expertise in, but now…”

“Now, what?” he prompted.

She twisted in her seat. “Now, I wonder how much of your role as ‘manager’ of The House is just a game, like everything else. I’m having a hard time figuring out what’s real and what isn’t.”

“Ah.”

“What does that mean?” she asked, frustrated by the seemingly knowing look on his face.

He sat back and took a deep breath. “Faith, I own The House. So my position as manager or proprietor is certainly legitimate. The House is my escape. It’s a place I can go where I’m free to be myself or to enjoy a different lifestyle.”

“So it’s a hobby?” she asked.

He gave her a searching look. “I can sense your anger and frustration. Right now you feel led on, lied to and played with.”

Her brows went up. Yep, he’d nailed that one on the head. Actually, she felt more like she’d become trapped in some never-ending fantasy land where everyone was reading one of those scripts Gray had bitched about.

“I admire you, Faith. I really do.”

“Huh?”

“You know what you want, and you aren’t willing to settle for less, and you’re willing to make mistakes while you search.”

She laughed. She couldn’t help it. Know what she wanted? She wished. It would make things so much easier.

He shook his head when she would have spoken. “You may be confused right now, but you know deep down inside what you want. You just haven’t known how to get it. That’s why you came to The House. Not because you didn’t know what you wanted, but you just didn’t know where to find it.”

“Or how to go about it,” she said glumly.

“Who was the guy?” Damon asked curiously. “The one who showed up at The House looking like he wanted to tear Brent limb from limb.”

Faith looked down and grimaced. “His name is Gray.”

“He seemed to know quite a lot about you,” he said simply.

She sighed. “I think he understands me too well.”

“Meaning?”

“It’s a long story. A long, really messed-up story.”

“I’ve got all night,” he said lazily.

She hesitated for a moment, and then she poured out the entire story, starting with her breakup with John and her subsequent encounter with Gray, first at The House and then at his apartment.

“And the sad thing is, he’s right,” she said when she’d finished.

Damon gave her a thoughtful look as he refilled his wineglass.

“I’d hoped maybe you could offer some insight. Am I playing games? The very thing I despised so much about my experience at The House? Am I wanting something that just doesn’t exist outside role playing and elaborate fantasy reenactments?”

He leaned over and touched her cheek. “I don’t think that at all. I think, as I said before, that you’re a woman who very much knows what she wants. You just haven’t known how to go about it, nor have you met the right man, a man who won’t have to take direction, hints or scripts.”

“Am I twisted?”

“No. You’re a woman most men would dream of having. Myself included. I spend a lot of time at The House, and part of it’s because I too am searching. For what, I’m not even sure, but I know it goes beyond the harmless games played behind closed doors. I don’t begrudge any of my patrons their sexual excesses. I’m very committed to giving them a safe environment in which to play out their wildest fantasies.”

“What do you want?” she asked softly.

He smiled and shook his head. “It would shock you.”

She raised a brow. “If having you watch while I sucked off another man didn’t shock me, I don’t see why anything you have to say should.”

He choked on his wine and pulled a napkin up to cover his mouth. It took her a minute to figure out he was laughing.

“You are so refreshing, Faith. I can’t seem to figure you out. You have the most feminine blush, yet you’re extremely blunt.”

“Well? Are you going to tell me what kind of woman you’re looking for?”

He studied her for a moment then laid the napkin back on the table. “You and my dream woman share a lot of qualities, I think. But I would take things further.”

She leaned forward. “Oh, now you have me intrigued.”

He smiled. “I want a woman who is completely submissive. I guess in some circles, she might be considered a slave.”

Faith’s eyes widened. “A slave?”

“I said in some circles,” he said dryly. “You see, people are too hung up on labels. I want a woman completely devoted to me and my needs. In return, I would take care of her and provide for her every need. But I would be in control.”

“But that’s what I want,” she said softly.

He nodded. “I know. Sad, isn’t it? Here we are, a man and a woman, both wanting the same things, and yet, you aren’t attracted to me.”

She started to protest, but he grinned. “C’mon, you know it’s true. Yes, you responded to my touch. But when Gray stepped in, well, it was another story entirely.”

There wasn’t much she could say to that.

“So, do you think based on what I’ve told you that I don’t have a chance with Gray? I mean it sounds like he’s just like you. He wants a submissive woman without the games, etc. How do I show him that I want the real thing too?”

Damon shook his head. “I don’t know what to tell you, Faith. It sounds to me like he’s fighting his attraction to you. Why, I don’t know. If you showed any interest in me, I’d have you collared and tied to my bed in two seconds flat.”

Heat buzzed up her spine and surged into her cheeks.

“Like that image, do you?” he teased.

“Asshole,” she muttered. “Damn, why do I have to be hung up on him? Why does he do it for me and no one else? Do you know since I’ve started pursuing this whole wanting a man to take care of me thing, that I’ve had more offers than I’ve ever gotten in my life?”

“Men love a submissive woman,” Damon said simply. “Even when they say they don’t. There’s something about a beautiful, soft woman looking to them to protect and take care of them that inspires a man to greatness.”

“It seems like there’s a lot of room to abuse that power, though,” she remarked.

Damon nodded. “That there is. If more men acted responsibly, then more women wouldn’t mind allowing them a lead role.”

“Oh my God! I can’t believe you said that. That’s what I said! I told Gray that last week. That if more men didn’t abdicate their responsibility, women would be more willing to let them be the head of the house.”

Damon smiled at her, and again, she cursed the fact that Gray dominated her thoughts and desires. Here, again, was a man willing to show her the things she wanted. And again, she would walk away after spending so much time looking for such a man in the first place.

It was enough to make her howl in frustration.

“I need a vacation,” she said. “I need time to figure out what the hell I’m going to do with my life.”

He took her hand in his and rubbed his fingers over her palm. “I have a beach house. I could give you the key. You could spend a few days there, have some time to yourself. No one would bother you.”

She studied him, tempted to take him up on his offer. A few days away at the beach sounded like heaven. And it would prevent her from having to see Gray until she’d fortified herself.

“I’ll have my driver take you down in the Bentley,” he wheedled with a mischievous grin.

She laughed. “Okay, deal. Damon, I don’t know how to thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. I have an ulterior motive.”

“Oh?”

He grinned. “Yeah, if things don’t work out between you and Gray, I’m hoping you’ll come to me.”

A warm shiver rolled over her arms as his fingers continued to stroke her palm.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said. And she was serious. If she gave Damon half a chance, she might find that they were compatible.

“When would you like to leave?” he asked. “Name the time, and I’ll have my driver pick you up.”

She checked her watch. “Honestly, I have no desire to go home just yet, so you’re stuck entertaining me for a while. And if your driver isn’t too tired, he could just run me home later and wait for me to pack a bag. I can always sleep when I get there.”

Damon smiled. “Good, that’s settled. Now, can I get you some more root beer?”

CHAPTER 26

Gray spent a restless night arguing with himself. In the early hours of the morning, he gave up on the idea of sleep and sat in his kitchen nursing a cup of liquid caffeine.

Had he fucked up any chance he had with Faith? And just when was it that he’d actually started entertaining the idea of a relationship with her anyway? Relationship? He had to be out of his damn mind.

First there was the fact that he was lying to her and using her. She was a means to an end. Then there was the fact that his life, what little he had, was in Dallas. Funny that he hadn’t given much thought to his career since arriving in Houston, but the fact remained he was a damn good cop.

There’s no reason you can’t come clean. Tell her the truth. She’s an intelligent woman. She doesn’t want anything to do with her mother anyway. Quit making excuses. She wants the same thing you do.

When put that way, it seemed perfectly simple. He’d simply tell her the truth about why he was here. Then, with that out of the way, hopefully she’d cooperate. He could investigate Samuels’s involvement in Alex’s death, and then maybe he and Faith could explore the attraction between them.

Attraction. Hell. The word didn’t do justice to this entity between them.

Mick would shit a brick, but he’d have to deal. It wasn’t his ass down here on the line; it was Gray’s. As long as justice was served, it shouldn’t matter one iota to Mick how it came about.

Now that he was finished convincing himself, he was eager to get to work and figure out how he was going to break things to Faith. He honestly didn’t know how she’d react. But he wasn’t willing to take the deception any further. Not when he very much wanted to explore a relationship without any baggage.

There was that damn word again. But if he was honest, he knew he wanted something other than a casual fuck. And the sort of relationship she said she wanted was exactly what he wanted as well, and assumed he’d never find.

He collected his keys and walked out to his truck, feeling lighter than he had in a while. He glanced down to see Faith’s car still parked, which he thought odd, considering she usually beat everyone in to the office. A quick glance at his watch told him he was earlier than usual, though.

He briefly thought about going to her apartment to talk to her, but she was likely getting ready, and he didn’t want to ambush her. He’d just wait until he could get her alone at the office.

When he got to the office, he found Pop and Connor already there. Pop looked up when Gray walked by his office then called out to stop him.

Gray backed up and stuck his head in the door. “What’s up?”