Page 82 of Pandora's Pleasure

Last night…

I relived an endless array of powerful sensations—the lingering soreness I felt below proving it wasn’t a dream. Leaning my head against the dining room door, I tried to recover from the arousing memories that still made me breathless.

Maybe I’d also thrown away any chance of having that type of experience again. I crash landed with the unforgiving truth that Damien had admitted to Theo in the hall that he would be extracting himself from this marriage of inconvenience.

All that was left to do was share the news of our breakup with my parents and tell them my future as a Godman wasn’t looking so good.

I should be happy. I should be glad that my escape was imminent, but all I felt was heartache. I didn’t want us to end just yet.

Nudging the dining room door open, I strolled over to the long table where my parents sat, their conversation ceasing when they saw me.

Mom looked bright and full of hope. “Damien is such a gentleman.”

“How do you figure that?” I asked, as images flooded in of last night’s escapades.

If they only knew.

“He brought you back home last night.” She reached for Dad’s hand. “You can only imagine the peace this brings.”

Yes, but two nights ago, Mom, he tied me to his bed in his own private dungeon. Facts are important, after all.

“He has his moments,” I said, keeping my amusement to myself.

Mom reached across the table and covered my hand with hers. “We know you’re doing everything you can to appease his family.”

“Is there any truth to what Galante is threatening to reveal?” I watched her expression carefully, as well as Dad’s.

“I was a businessman long before I went into politics, Pandora,” he replied flatly.

Mentioning his scandal as a career-ending event before lunch was not allowed, I knew that much.

“This is nothing for you to worry about,” he added.

Well…another banal comment from a man unwilling to share the all-important details with his daughter—the same daughter who was meant to save his place in the Cabinet.

“Just keep at him,” said Dad. “Keep Damien on our side.”

Right.

The way our evening had ended at The Ritz, I was fairly certain that would be a tall order.

I noticed there were only two settings for brunch, and asked why. “I was going to join you.”

“I thought you had a thing?” Mom rose and walked over to the sideboard to fetch a gift box with a bow. “Damien had his driver drop this off. His chauffeur is outside ready to take you to Number One Observatory Circle.”

“Today?”

“Yes, it’s the Vice President’s garden party.”

“Are we going to that?”

Dad looked frustrated. “I’m not. But you are. Reaching across the aisle is essential. You know that.”

Mom looked exasperated as she handed me the gift. “You forgot?”

No, that asshole forgot to mention it—that’s what had happened here. I’m sure he got some sordid pleasure from imagining me scrambling to get ready in a rush. This was his way of punishing me for our argument last night.

Still, considering I never expected to see him again, this news actually stopped my heart from aching.