Chapter 2 He Watches Me Swim

The pool was the only thing that made the house feel real.

At night, it looked like a glowing jewel in the backyard cool blue water framed by soft garden lights and pristine white tile. The Blake Wolfe estate had plenty of carefully curated luxuries, but the pool? It was simple. Honest. Wet, warm, and deep.

Sierra liked it best after midnight, when the staff were gone and Vanessa was two martinis into her beauty sleep.

She slipped into the water wearing a black string bikini too small, too tight, something her mother would've called trashy if she'd seen it. But no one was around to judge.

Or so she thought.

She didn't see Damien at first.

She pushed off from the edge, slicing through the water in a long, slow stroke, letting her muscles stretch and burn. The water felt perfect cool against her heated skin. Her thoughts slowed, her breath evened out. For the first time since coming home, she felt in control.

She surfaced near the far end, slicking her hair back with both hands, and then froze.

He was on the balcony above, just outside the master bedroom, a glass of something dark in his hand. The lights behind him were off, but the glow from the pool illuminated just enough to reveal his presence his figure outlined against the glass doors, his gaze unmistakably fixed on her.

She thought about diving back under and pretending she hadn't noticed.

But something inside her something reckless decided not to.

Instead, she leaned back in the water, stretched her arms along the edge of the pool, and let her body float. Her bikini top clung wet and tight against her chest, her nipples clearly outlined beneath the thin fabric.

She didn't look up at him. Not directly. But she could feel his eyes. Heavy. Intent. Burning.

The silence stretched.

Then his voice floated down, smooth and low. "You should be more careful."

She didn't move. "Careful of what?"

"Someone might get the wrong idea."

She turned her head and looked up at him through soaked lashes. "Maybe I want them to."

He didn't respond.

The glass in his hand reflected the pool's light as he took a slow sip.

When she blinked again, he was gone.

Sierra didn't sleep.

She lay in bed, her wet hair soaking into the pillow, heart still racing.

What had she just done?

She didn't even know what that was a game? A test? A silent dare?

She hadn't planned it. It wasn't about seduction. But there had been something in the way he watched her something that made her skin tighten and her thighs clench under the water.

The truth was, Damien had always unnerved her.

Even in high school, when her mother started dating him, there had been something cold and controlled about him. He never tried to play "dad," never even tried to get close. At first, she thought it was arrogance. But now... she wondered if it was restraint.

What would he have done if Vanessa hadn't been upstairs?

What would she have done?

Sierra rolled over and pressed her face into the pillow, groaning. Her body still ached from the pool not from swimming, but from holding back the sudden, irrational urge to touch herself with him watching.

No. She wasn't going to be that girl.

She wasn't going to be the reason her mother's marriage shattered.

But even as she told herself that, she knew it was already too late.

Breakfast was awkward the next morning.

Vanessa was all smiles and soft curls, sipping black coffee and scrolling on her iPad. Damien sat across from her, reading the financial section of the paper like he didn't have a care in the world.

Sierra stirred her yogurt and granola like it had personally offended her.

"Sleep well?" Vanessa asked.

"Fine," Sierra lied.

"You should come to the spa with me later. I have a deep tissue appointment, and I swear this new place is like magic. It might loosen you up."

"I'm fine," she repeated.

Damien didn't look up, but Sierra felt his presence like a second sun.

Every movement, every breath, was too aware of him now.

He turned a page of the paper and said casually, "Did you go for a swim last night?"

Her spoon froze midair.

Vanessa barely looked up. "She loves the pool. Always has."

Damien sipped his coffee. "It's a good habit. Though some swims are more... memorable than others."

Sierra stared down at her bowl, blood thundering in her ears.

Was he taunting her?

She didn't respond.

But she felt his eyes again. Not looking at her body this time but her mind. Reading it.

Dissecting it.

Later that afternoon, Vanessa left for her spa appointment with a kiss on Damien's cheek and a reminder to "be charming if anyone calls." He walked her to the front door like a perfect husband, then turned around and headed straight for the home office.

Sierra was in the hallway when he passed. Neither of them said a word.

But the look he gave her?

That said everything.

He found her an hour later.

She was curled up on the couch in the upstairs lounge, reading a novel she couldn't focus on. She didn't hear him approach until he was standing behind the sofa.

"I meant what I said," he murmured. "About being careful."

She looked up slowly. "Why?"

He didn't smile. "Because we're not just playing with fire. We're building it."

Her throat tightened. "You watched me."

"You knew I was watching."

She closed the book without marking the page. "Is this some game to you?"

"No," he said, stepping closer. "It's a warning."

"To stay away?"

His eyes darkened. "To understand what happens if you don't."

Her breath hitched. "What does happen?"

He reached out and touched her hair just a single strand between his fingers. It wasn't sexual. It was... possessive. Like he was claiming her in the smallest way he could without leaving evidence.

"You're not ready for that answer," he said quietly.

Her heart thundered in her chest. "Try me."

Damien held her gaze, unreadable.

Then he stepped back.

And left.

Sierra stared at the doorway long after he was gone.

Her skin tingled.

Not from fear. From something far worse.

Anticipation.