The CEO’s Masked Secret Wife novel Chapter 65

65 Charmed by a Spitfire

## Damian’s POV 1

I watched Hazel and Liam on the dance floor, so caught up in each other they might as well have been alone in the room. It was about damn time.

“Mission accomplished,” Chloe said, clinking her glass against mine. “Those two just needed a little push.”

“More like a shove off a cliff,” I replied with a grin. “But it worked.”

A flash of red caught my eye as a woman slid into the empty seat beside me. She had fiery copper hair cascading down her back in loose curls, bright green eyes, and a smile that sparked something immediate in my chest.

“Your friends are cute together,” she said, nodding toward Liam and Hazel. “Though I’m guessing from your spying that this was some sort of setup?”

I laughed. “Guilty as charged. I’m Damian.”

“Scarlett,” she replied, offering her hand.

Instead of shaking it, I brought it to my lips. “Beautiful name for a beautiful woman.””

She rolled her eyes but didn’t pull her hand away. “Does that line usually work for

you?”

“Every time,” I said with confidence.

“Well, there’s a first time for everything.” She took her hand back and signaled the bartender.

Something about her instant dismissal of my charm made me sit up straighter. Women didn’t usually brush me off so easily.

“Can I buy you a drink?” I asked.

“I can buy my own, thanks.” She ordered a whiskey neat, which surprised me again.

Chloe caught my eye from across the table and mouthed, “Who’s that?” I shrugged slightly.

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“So, Scarlett, what brings you here tonight? I haven’t seen you around before.”

“Just moved to town,” she said, taking a sip of her drink. “Friend recommended this place.”

“And where’s this friend now?”

She gestured vaguely toward the crowd. “Dancing with some guy she met five minutes

ago.”

“Leaving you all alone? That’s just criminal.”

She laughed, a rich sound that made me want to hear it again. “I can take care of myself. Besides, I’m not alone now, am I?”

“No,” I agreed. “You’re not.”

For the next hour, we talked. Actually talked. Not the usual flirtatious banter I used to charm women into my bed, but real conversation. She was smart, funny, and called me on my bullshit every time I tried to use one of my practiced lines.

When the music shifted to something slower, I held out my hand. “Dance with me?”

She eyed my hand for a moment before taking it. “One dance.”

On the dance floor, I kept a respectable distance, which seemed to surprise her. “No moves, Mr. Knight? I’ve been watching you with the other women tonight.”

“You’ve been watching me?” I grinned.

“Don’t get excited. I’m just observant.”

I pulled her slightly closer. “And what have you observed?”

“That you’re used to getting what you want. That women fall at your feet.” Her green eyes sparkled with amusement. “That you’re probably going to be very disappointed tonight.”

“Is that right?”

She nodded. “I’m not going home with you.”

“Who said I was asking?”

“Please,” she scoffed. “Your reputation precedes you. Damian Knight, VP of Sterling

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Group, notorious playboy.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You Googled me?”

“Like I said, I’m observant.”

The song ended, and she stepped back. “Thanks for the dance.”

“Wait,” I said, not ready for our interaction to end. “Let me take you to dinner

sometime.”

“I don’t think so.” She turned to walk away.

“Why not?” I followed her back to the table.

“Because I’m not interested in being another conquest.”

Her words stung more than they should have. “That’s not what I’m looking for.”

“No?” She gathered her purse. “What are you looking for then, Damian?”

I opened my mouth to answer, but realized I didn’t have one. Not a good one, anyway.

She smiled, almost kindly. “That’s what I thought. It was nice meeting you.”

“I’m looking for someone real,” I blurted out, surprising myself. “Someone who doesn’t care about my money or my position. Someone who makes me laugh and challenges me. Someone like you.”

Scarlett studied my face for a long moment. “Smooth talker.”

“I mean it.”

She glanced at her watch. “I should go. My friend seems to have abandoned me.”

“Let me drive you home,” I offered. “Just a ride. No ulterior motives.”

She laughed. “Now that’s a lie if I ever heard one.”

But she agreed, and fifteen minutes later, we were in my car. The confined space made me acutely aware of her perfume-something citrusy and warm. My hands gripped the steering wheel tighter as she gave me directions to her place.

“You’re different than I expected,” she admitted as we drove.

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65 Charmed by a Spitfire

“How so?”

“Less arrogant. I mean, you’re still arrogant, but there’s something underneath all that

swagger.”

I glanced at her. “Is that a compliment?”

“Take it however you want.”

The streetlights cast a glow over her face, highlighting her high cheekbones and full lips. I found myself thinking about kissing her and quickly refocused on the road.

“This is me,” she said as we pulled up to a small house with a neat garden. “Thanks for

the ride.”

I parked and turned to face her. “Scarlett, I’d really like to see you again.”

“Why?” she asked bluntly.

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