Page 16 of Securing His Obsession

Without saying anything to her, Damon went and opened it. Given the fact her bedroom was pretty close to the front door, she still struggled to hear what was being said, but she did pick up on the fact that there was a woman at her door.

Was it one of her neighbors?

She wasn’t too friendly with the people who lived in the other units. They all smiled and waved if they saw each other, but no one stopped to talk. Perhaps that was something she should change, especially after what had happened to her today.

The only person she’d been friendly with had been, Ivan, the guy she’d dated briefly who lived on the other side of the fence that bordered her property. Their backyards abutted each other.

The front door closed and Damon reappeared at her bedroom doorway holding what looked like a large, insulated bag. “What’s that?” she asked.

“Dinner if you’re up to it. Tabitha made some chicken soup along with some freshly baked bread rolls.”

At the mere mention of food, her stomach grumbled, and not in the way that she was about to throw up like she had earlier. Mortification swept through her as she remembered how she’d vomited in front of Damon. It was the last thing she should be embarrassed about. It hadn’t been her fault, but still, the memory wasn’t one she was going to easily forget. “I’m sorry,” she blurted.

“Sorry for what?”

He was going to make her say it, even though she was sure he had a fair idea of what she was talking about. “Throwing up in front of you.”

Damon smiled, a rare smile that warmed her from the inside at the way his lips stretched wide, and the corners of his eyes crinkled in merriment. “Not the first time I’ve seen someone toss their cookies. Although you are by far the prettiest one.”

“No one is pretty when they throw up,” she scoffed. “And why are we talking about vomiting?”

“I wasn’t, you were the one that mentioned it.” He held up the bag. “Do you feel up to eating?”

Her stomach rumbled again. “Yeah, I think I can eat something, but I wouldn’t mind a shower first.”

The second the words left her mouth, Margot wished she could recall them back. The very idea of showering while Damon sat in the other room was one she’d never thought would come up.

“Okay, I’m pretty sure the food will stay hot. Do you—uh, need help?”

Was that a blush coloring his cheeks?

No, it was impossible, there was no way on God’s green earth that Damon Pallin would be embarrassed, but it seemed he was, because the more she looked at him, the redder his cheeks got.

Given how shaky she’d been when she’d answered the door when he’d first arrived, it wasn’t a stretch to think she would still be that way. However, her mind, while still a little foggy, was clear of pain, and she didn’t feel as weak as she had been earlier.

“I think I’ll be fine, thanks anyway.”

“I’ll just take these to the kitchen.” He turned away before she could stop him.

She slid out of bed, resting her feet on the ground, pleased that the movement didn’t cause any dizziness. Now that she’d talked about it, she couldn’t wait to get into the shower. Have the hot water wash away the remnants of her migraine.

Opening the drawers of her dresser, she pulled out underwear and clothes before making her way to her adjoining bathroom. Steam filled the room, and she let the hot water wash away the remnants of her headache and the clammy feeling of sleeping all day.

She could’ve stayed in there for a good hour, but was aware that Damon was in the other room and that food was waiting for her. The thought of putting something into her stomach didn’t have it turning in somersaults, so she took that as a good sign she wouldn’t throw up again.

Margot flicked the water off, and dried herself off quickly before putting her clothes on. She quickly buzzed the hair dryer over her hair; it wasn’t perfectly dry, but it was dry enough.

The aroma of herbs, along with freshly baked bread, filled the air as she exited her bedroom. Damon had covered her coffee table with a tea towel, and two bowls of steaming soup sat on it, with a bread roll on a plate beside it. In the middle was some butter, along with two glasses which looked like they had sparkling water in them.

The whole scene was thoughtful and domestic, and so unexpected. There were more facets to Damon than the gruff, intense, and serious persona he displayed at the office.

“This looks and smells good,” she commented, as she sat on the couch.

“Anything Tabitha makes is going to be good,” Damon responded, taking the seat next to her.

“Without a doubt,” she murmured, aware that if she moved her leg a fraction of an inch, it would brush up against Damon’s hard thigh. He was that close to her.

“Dig in while it’s hot. I only had to heat it up a little.”