Chapter 4

"Ahh!" Melissa screamed, a high pitched noise that jolted Damien back to the present.

She swatted away his offending hand. "Pervert!"

Damien shrank back, flustered.

He was about to apologize, but the young woman let out a string of word that were not exactly expletives, but came pretty close.

"It was an accident." He scowled. "And I don't appreciate that type of language."

"And I don't appreciate you putting your hands where they don't belong!" Melissa's face was flushed crimson.

"Like I said, it was an accident."

"You even squeezed it." Melissa folded her arms over her chest, eyes blazing.

Damien cleared his throat. "I was just checking... something."

"Checking what? Cup size?" Melissa wanted to smack him. "Pervert!"

"I wasn't—" Damien tried to put his thoughts into words, a rare occurrence for him.

But then, what he experienced just now was also a rare occurrence.

Not only was he not repulsed by this woman's scent or physical proximity, he felt rather compelled to get closer.

And when he accidentally touched her, it stirred something within him that he thought was long dead.

Olivia Hamilton wasn't entirely off the mark when she said there must be something wrong with him.

There was, but he just didn't know exactly what it was.

His experience in the morning told him there was nothing wrong with him physically.

So it had to be a psychological thing that prevented him from getting intimate with women.

But if it was all in his head, how would he feel ‘excited’ with this woman who was practically a stranger?

He didn't even know her name.

What was it about her that made her different?

Whatever it was, Damien was determined to get to the bottom of it.

"Step aside!" Melissa demanded. "I don't want to be in the same room as a pervert."

"Don't call me that," Damien said. "And you're not allowed to leave yet."

He took another step forward.

Melissa retreated, but he kept advancing.

This went on until she had her back firmly pressed against the wall and nowhere to go.

"What are you doing?" Melissa glared at him.

"I just want to confirm something." Damien was now in her personal space.

"Don't come any closer!" Melissa shouted, red in the face. "If you want the camera, take it! Just don't come any closer!"

"I don't want the camera. I want..."

You.

Before the words left his lips, Damien hissed in pain.

Unharmed, Melissa used her fingernails as the only weapon at her disposal.

She scratched Damien's outstretched hand so hard, it drew blood.

"When you turned down Miss Hamilton earlier, i thought you were a real gentleman." Running out of space behind her, Melissa crab-walked to her left, trying to create some distance between her and Damien. "But you're just a pervert, like all other men. No, you are worse. You're sick!"

Damien furrowed his brow, once again drawing closer to her.

"I said, don't come any closer!" Melissa made her right hand into the shape of a claw, ready to strike.

"Sorry." Damien purses his lips.

"Sorry doesn't make up for the fact that you tried to put your paws on me."

"I said it was an accident."

He had been aiming for the camera when he accidentally touched her.

Though Damien couldn't deny to himself that he, ahem, wanted to try it again.

Melissa's reply was an eye roll. "Are you planning on keeping me here all night? It's called false imprisonment, you know."

"Do you want the job at BuzzFeed?" Damien asked suddenly.

"Does a bear sh—" thinking of her five years old son, Melissa modified her language. "—poop in the woods?"

Damien pondered for a moment before proposing. "Stay with me tonight, and I'll arrange a better job for you. What do you think?"

The next second, Damien saw Melissa's initial shock turned into anger in her eyes. Just when he thought he'd hear dirtier words from her mouth, he saw Melissa narrowed her eyes.

"Just spend the whole night with you? Is that what you're suggesting?"

Damien nodded.

He wanted to see if her effect of him was just temporary or permanent.

"What do I have to do?" Melissa asked, as if seriously considering his proposal. "More importantly, what kind of job are we talking about here?"

"Whatever kind of offer, it sure beats that of a tabloid reporter."

Damien was a little surprise by her unexpected acceptance of his offer.

Even though he was the one who initiated the idea, deep down, a tinge of disappointment lingered.

He lower his gaze.

Of all the women he knew, why did his body only react to her?

When he was momentarily distracted, Melissa saw an opportunity.

Swiftly, she raised her leg, aiming for a man's most vulnerable region, hoping to give him a taste of her frustration.

But she'd forgotten about their height difference.

The tip of her shoe barely made contact with his mid-thigh, then Damien deftly dodged the kick.

Oops. She hadn't expected his reflexes to be so sharp.

Damien quickly seized hold of her wrist and demanded, "What do you think you're doing?"

Frustration and fury mingled in Melissa's voice as she shot back at him, "Damn it! I'm not a prostitute, do you think money can buy any woman you want?"

"But you agreed." Damien replied with a knitted brow.

"Screw you, I never agreed to your ridiculous proposal," Melissa retorted with a huff. "I don't need you to find me a job. I already have one."

Damien's brow furrowed deeper. "If you didn't agree, why did you say yes?"

"I never said yes. Get your filthy hands off me!" Melissa forcefully shook off Damien's grip, her anger fuelling her determination. "I'm deleting your photos, all right?"

She held up the camera for him to see the screen, then deleted the photos taken in the lounge. "There, happy? Can I go now?"

"Can we talk for a moment?" Damien backed up a little to give her space.

"No." Melissa responded coldly. "I don't have time for that."

"There's been a misunderstanding."

"There's no misunderstanding," Melissa scoffed.

"I've seen plenty of men like you. You thought I was poor and desperate for money, and believed you could buy me on the cheap, didn't you?"

Damien attempted to defend himself. "I didn't mean—"

"I don't care!" Melissa snorted. "There are plenty of other choices out there, ready for you to fulfill your perverted desire. Why don't you try Sunny Meadow Ranch?"

"Sunny Meadow Ranch?" Damien gave her a quizzical look. "It's a pig farm."

"Exactly!" Melissa smirked. "It's the perfect place for you to find your ideal match. After all, you're all members of the same species."

Struck dumb, Damien had no idea how to respond to that.

He had been called many names before, mostly by his business rivals.

But he'd never been insulted by a woman in this ‘Creative’ fashion, and right to his face."

Strangely, he couldn't bring himself to be mad at her.

Stowing her camera into her shoulder bag, Melissa asked, "Can I leave now?"

Damien, unwilling to let her go, reached out and grabbed her wrist again, his touch searing against her skin.

"Don't touch me!" Melissa screamed instinctively, her reflexes kicking in. "What else do you want from me?"

"I need your help." Damien couldn't help but say.

Melissa glowered at him. "This is how you ask someone for help?"

"I was afraid you'd leave without letting me finish."

Melissa took a deep breath.

"Fine. What help do you need?"

"Just...stay for a moment."

Damien stood close to Melissa, their bodies almost touching, as he took in a deep breath, intoxicated by her scent.

It was a tantalising mixture of cheap shampoo and something uniquely her.

The fragrance hung in the air, enveloping him and igniting a fiery desire within him that he struggled to suppress.

With every beat of his heart, the flames burned brighter.

Feeling the intensity of the moment, Damien knew he had to regain control.

He abruptly pulled back, tilting his body sideways to hide the undeniable evidence of his arousal.

His domineering nature recoiled at the vulnerability that Melissa's presence invoke in him.

He couldn't let her too close, for fear of loosing himself in her.

Melissa, growing impatient with the lack of response from Damien, was about to speak up when the door to the lounge swung open.

The newcomer flipped on the light switch. "Damien, I was hoping we could tal—"

Her sentence died in her throat as the lounge was flooded with light and her eyes fell upon Damien and Melissa standing face to face near the french window.

The two of the seemed locked in an intimate dance, poised on the precipice of something forbidden.

Olivia's eyes widen, a mix of shock, hurt, and jealousy coursing through her veins.

The realisation of what she'd interrupted struck her like a blow.

Tears welled in Olivia's eyes as she turned to face Damien, her voice quivering with mix of hurt and accusation. "Is she...is she your woman, Damien?"