Claim Me: A Novel

would scoff at the image and insist that the horse must be a black one.
    Perhaps so, but to me there is nothing dark about Damien Stark. There is only the light that he brings to my world. And that is why I feel all the more helpless when I see that he is hurting. And why I feel all the more lost when it is not me that he turns to.
    I’ve been walking slowly toward the water, and now I standat the edge of the pool on the side near the house. There are five steps into the water here. Wide steps designed for lounging half-in and half-out of the water. I walk out, holding the robe up around my knees so that it won’t get wet.
    Damien is at the opposite end of the pool and he has not noticed me. I take three steps, then move down to the next level. The water hits me just below my knees. This is the first time I’ve been in the pool, and I’m surprised by how warm the water is. Not quite bath-temperature, but balmy, and warmer than the night air that surrounds me.
    I walk to the edge of this second level and look out toward the man who has captured my heart. My feet are about twelve inches below the pool deck now, and from this new perspective all I can see is Damien, the water, and the wide night sky. I watch, entranced, as he cuts through the water. His movements are efficient and controlled, just like the man himself. I don’t realize that I’ve moved to the third step until I notice that I am no longer holding up the robe. Instead, the thin material is spread out like the petals of a rose floating on the gently lapping surface.
    I am about to take it off and lay it on the decking when Damien stops midway through a lap. He treads water, his body turned toward me, but the shadows and light that play across his face, reflected by the motion of the water, make it impossible for me to read his expression. All I know is that I feel the heavy weight of his gaze upon me, and though I want to cut through the water and go to him, I remain rooted to the spot. It’s fear keeping me here. I’m afraid that I have overstepped my bounds. That I’m interrupting a moment when he needs to be alone, and that instead of comforting him, my presence is going to have the exact opposite effect.
    The longer he stays at the far end of the pool, the more that fear grows in me, so that when he finally does move toward me, I take an involuntary step backward.
    It is only when I see his face that I stop. He is looking at me with such open adoration that it makes my heart skip a beat.
    He stops swimming and stands in the chest-deep water. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
    “How do you expect me to sleep without you beside me?”
    I’ve moved forward again, and the robe floats around me. Damien eases closer, cutting through the water, then tugs on the sash at my waist. The robe drifts open, exposing my body. He slips his hands up to my shoulders and slides it off. The damp material sticks to my arms, but I move forward, leaving the robe behind me, until I am no longer wrapped in silk, but wrapped in Damien’s arms.
    “I think I ruined the robe,” I say. “I didn’t actually mean to wear it into the pool. I was watching you and got carried away.”
    “I know the feeling.” His hand gently strokes my face while his other arm holds me firmly around the waist, as if afraid I’ll float away like the robe.
    “Do you mind that I’m here?”
    His mouth curves into an ironic smile and he pulls me closer. I feel his erection press against my thighs. “What do you think?”
    I swallow and shake my head. But it’s not sex that I’ve come here for, though with Damien standing naked and erect next to me I am having a hard time recalling what my purpose actually was.
    But, no, I
do
remember. I tilt my head up so that I can look directly in his eyes. “I was worried,” I admit.
    “About the phone call? I told you it wasn’t about Carl’s threats.”
    I nod, then take a deep breath. “Was it about the tennis center?”
    He looks at me sharply. “You know about that?”
    “Is that what’s bothering you?”
    He hesitates, then gives one curt nod. “Yes.”
    I bite my lip, because though I believe him, I’m certain that’s not the full story.
    “How did you learn about it?”
    “I saw the paper. You left it by the boxing bag.”
    The corner of his mouth tugs upward. “Perhaps my subconscious wanted you to find it.”
    “Well,” I say with a laugh. “That’s a start.”
    As I had hoped, he laughs as well. Then his shoulders