That, at least, was an undeniable truth. Laurent was many things -- sharp, manipulative, conniving, even more intelligent than he was beautiful -- but he was not easy. He was warmer now than Damen remembered, but he was still very much the same man with all his sharp edges and piercing tongue.

Knowing what he did now, Damen couldn't help himself imagining how it might have gone. Had Laurent been the one to kiss him first or had Damen initiated? When had Damen revealed his identity? Before, he hoped.

Or did he? Would it have even mattered?

And how had those lips felt against his own? How soft was his skin? Had Laurent asked to be taken or had they simply fallen into it? Had one time bled into another? Into many? How had Laurent's face look when he yielded? How--

Damen forced himself to stop as Laurent's gaze met his own and his breath stilled for a moment before he said, 'You would still want me? Even here?'