Damon stopped his car in front of the wrought iron gate and handed his invitation to the guard.
"Welcome to the Rolland residence, sir. Have a nice time," said the guard and signaled for the gate to open.
Damon smiled to himself, accelerated and went through. After two unbearable months his quest finally came to an end. The woman he was looking for lived in the house of Eric Rolland. And he didn't need an excuse to meet her; he was invited by Eric's son, Alex, to his homecoming party. This was his chance. He would find the woman responsible for his brother's death and he was going to make her pay dearly...
Catherine decided to wear the black strapless cocktail dress. "Never underestimate the power of the little black dress," she thought. The dress was perfect. It molded itself to the curves of her body. She brushed her golden brown mane and resolved to smoke her eyes with black pencil, even if her aunt claimed that it made her look like a tramp.
As soon as she finished her make up, Cynthia stormed into her room without warning. Catherine pretended to look in the mirror.
"So, my dear cousin, you are determined to use all your charms on Alex tonight," said Cynthia, not bothering to hide her sarcasm, stung by her beauty.
"What is it you want, Cynthia?" Catherine asked softly, long used to her cousin's bitter comments.
"I want your brooch. I....I, I seem to have forgotten mine at the ranch and I would like to wear it tonight. It always pleases Aunt Elisa, you know," Cynthia made her request.
'You should be more careful with your stuff. This brooch is heirloom," Catherine pointed out.
"And you should be more careful with your behavior," Cynthia bit back." Or do you think that you and Alex missing all day went unnoticed?"
"Here's the brooch, Cyn," Catherine handed it over, smiling slightly. "Now go get dressed like a good girl, you wouldn't want to be late for Alex, when I am on time, would you?"
"I am dressed," Cynthia protested.
"Oh, I'm sorry! I thought that was your night gown," Catherine chuckled, watching with amusement the irritated expression on her face.
"Fuck you!" Cynthia slammed the door behind her.
Catherine looked herself in the mirror one final time and left her room.
Damon looked around the house. How would he be sure? He just found out that in this house lived two women who bore the name C.Rolland, the same name that signed the last letter his brother ever received... "Johnny, I'm sorry, but the money you gave me is gone. I never loved you. I lied to you. I didn't suffer a miscarriage, I had an abortion. Did you think I would keep the child of penniless fool? Get on with your life and forget everything about us."
This letter, these words would be imprinted in his memory forever. All he had was this letter, a jewelled brooch with the letter C, and a photo of this woman wearing the brooch, all things that she had given to his brother. Unfortunately, the photo was torn and he couldn't see the woman's face. God, he would avenge his brother's death... He had arrived late, only to find his brother lying dead on the floor holding a gun in one hand, and this damn letter in the other...
He thought he heard his name and turned around. He smiled when he saw Alex and the two men shook hands.
" Damon! Damon Bradley! I can't believe you've made it! Welcome! I'm so glad you're here, it's been such a long time!" Alex greeted him warmly.
"I wouldn't have missed it for the world," Damon smiled. "So, how was Europe?" he forced himself to act interested.
"Europe was great "Alex said impatiently. "Sorry to leave you Damon, but I'm looking for someone special, if you know what I mean," he smiled. "Someone from the family will show you around. Tell them you're a friend. We'll catch later!" Alex almost ran away from Damon.
Damon nodded and began to make his way to the veranda. Preoccupied with his thoughts as he was he didn't notice the woman on his right. She seemed to be running away from something and didn't notice him either. She bumped on his shoulder spilling her drink allover his shirt.
"Oh God, I'm so sorry," Catherine said, her voice filled with dread.
"Don't be, I was the careless one," Damon made an effort to sound polite.
He lifted his eyes and his gaze locked with hers. "God, she's a fallen angel," he thought to himself. Long golden brown hair, all tousled, as if she had just got up from bed after wild lovemaking. Deep set green almond shaped eyes that look straight into his soul. A little proud, straight nose and full lips in the most seductive shade of pink he could ever imagine existed. He saw her breast heaving, and he was sure he could see her nipples hardening through the flimsy material of her dress.
Catherine raised her head and found out that before stood the handsomest man she had ever seen. His silk blond hair made her ache to run her fingers through it. His intense burning brown eyes made her want to look away, yet she could not. She could only follow the line of his strong cheekbones and rest her gaze on a smile that made her go limp.
"I' m going to get a towel," she said backing away from him, trying no to look at his broad chest.
Damon grabbed her wrist. "Don't." Looking at her confused expression he continued, "I mean, this shirt is ruined. A towel will be of no use."
"I'll see if I can get a clean shirt for you," she said trying in vain to free herself from his grasp. "But you have to let me go so I can do that," she smiled looking up at him.
"No I don't," Damon stated. "I'll go with you. Even if you find a shirt for me, I can't change here in front of everyone."
"I wish you'd change in front of me," Catherine thought to herself.
"Unless you would like me to perform a private show for you," he smiled mischievously.
"No, I'm not that selfish," she returned his mischievous smile. "I wouldn't want the other girls to miss this once in a lifetime opportunity."
Damon was stun by her reply. No other girl had played him that way before. He slowly released her wrist from his grasp.
