Disclaimer: I don't own any of them except for the kids!

The Perfect Temptation, Part 8

Damien pulled into the softly lit driveway of the Maxwell's house. He had spent the better part of Tuesday afternoon, trying to figure out what he was going to say to her. She hadn't come in the rest of the week, calling in sick. He found out that not having her around was very, very boring. He would be the last to admit it, but she seemed to make a room come alive with her presence and work seemed to go a lot faster when she was there. The picture that Jonathon had painted for him didn't gel with what he knew of her. It just didn't seem possible. And now, it was Friday evening. He had finally figured out what he had been going to say to her. It had taken a great deal of thought on his part. He climbed out of his car and walked through the back gate to the kitchen door. Dim light spilled from the windows and he could just barely catch the glow of the television through the closed curtains on the deck doors. He took a deep breath and knocked. "Courage here, Damien. You're definitely going to need it," he said under his breath as he waited.

Angelina sat curled up on couch with a blanket covering her bare legs, left bare by her boxers. She was alone since Hilde and Duo had gone out, and Donavon had carried Randy over his shoulder, saying that they would be at his house, where he could keep his eye on her. A slight smile touched her lips as she remembered the more than furious expression on her friend's face. "At least she doesn't have to worry about losing him," she sighed as she flipped to another channel. She paused for a moment and watched the sappy romantic flick. She closed her eyes and flipped the channel as her heart twisted a bit and her eyes felt teary. "Romance, who needs it?" she muttered under her breath. She pulled the sweatshirt she had snitched from Duo around her a little more. Since he was very much like a father to her, she loved and adored him in the same way, which meant practically carte blanche with his clothes. She continued to flip channels. "Good Lord, isn't there anything on?" Her head turned with a snap as she heard the knocking on the kitchen door. "Who could that be at this hour?" she wondered, somewhat miffed at the intrusion, as she pushed the heavy quilted blanket down her legs and went to answer the door.

It felt like forever to him. He glanced down at his watch. It was a little past eleven. "You picked a great time, Damien. Really great," he snapped to himself as he tapped his booted foot on the step. The door swung open and revealed a very disheveled, very miserable, and very desirable looking Angelina. His tongue cleaved to the roof of his mouth.

Her eyes widened several degrees. She hadn't gotten a great look at who it was, but she knew only family and friends came to the back door. Her heart leapt in her throat and her breath froze in her lungs. She stepped back and nearly slammed the door in his face, but determined not to let him see how much he had upset her. "Damien," she said, cool, calm, and collected.

Her eyes betrayed the tone of her voice. All he could do was look at her. Wisps of her coppery hair curled down the sides of her neck. They looked soft and touchable. "Angelina," he said in a steady voice, belying his own feelings as she was. "Can I come in?"

"What do you want?"

"I need to talk to you…about the other day."

"There's nothing to talk about. I was sick."

Damien frowned at her level tone. He had to admit that she was good. Very good. "You don't look sick."

Angelina pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes at him. "Well, I was."

"Well, I don't buy it," he countered. "So, could you let me in?"

Knowing that he probably wouldn't go away, she sighed and stepped back. "Fine."

"Thank you," he said as she closed and locked the door behind him. He turned to look at her as she pushed glasses back onto her nose. "You wear glasses?"

"I've worn glasses since I was six, so stop staring. I wear contacts during the day," she snapped as she brushed past him.

He let out a sigh as she retreated back to the family room. He followed her and was greeted by both Lucky and Noelle, who licked his hands before returning to their oversize doggie bed in front of the fireplace. He didn't need to be an empath to feel the hostility radiating from her. It was in the inflection of her words and her body language. Right now, her arms were crossed in front of her chest as she stood by the fireplace, leaning against the dull red brick. "I didn't mean to stare, Angelina. I've never seen you wear glasses."

She closed her eyes and shook her head. "Like you would care." She crossed her right ankle behind her left.

He opened his mouth, but he slowly closed it. This was not going well. "Look, I really think we should…"

"There's nothing to talk about. I'm sorry I walked in on you and your…whatever," she said with a careless wave of her hand, "but I got sick. So you have nothing to explain."

"Angelina…"

"Damien, there's really nothing to talk about. So why don't you just drop it?"

"But…"

"There's nothing to talk about…but tell me one thing, was that Claudia?"

"Yes, that was Claudia," he replied as he looked up into her eyes.

Angelina titled her head to one side as she felt her stomach drop. Those crystalline aquamarine eyes were scrutinizing her carefully. "You're going to let you hurt you again?"

"Why would I let her do that?" he asked, surprised by her question.

"Because you looked like you wanted her back with the way that you were looking at her and touching her. It would be a stupid thing to do on your part."

Now his eyes narrowed the tiniest bit. "I never said that I wanted her back."

"No, but you looked it. And a look can speak a thousand words."

"The look meant nothing."

"But you still feel something for her?"

He didn't answer.

"I prove my point. You're still hopelessly in love with her and you know she'll do the same thing to you as she did last time…whatever that was…leaving you brokenhearted and feeling pretty used for being a total idiot when it comes to her."

Damien's brow furrowed. Jonathon didn't tell him about her sharp tongue. He knew she was a smart mouth, but he had no idea that she could get as nasty as she was being right now. "There's a lot that you don't know about her." He weighed his words carefully before he answered her back, "I do feel something, yes…but it doesn't mean that I want her back. I know what she's capable of."

"Do you? Do you know how manipulative, how callous, and cruel a woman can be? Just because the outside looks good, doesn't mean the inside is the same way. She's definitely the kind of woman that will rip out your heart if you let her. You can never trust a purely beautiful woman."

"So, I guess that would mean I couldn't trust you?"

She regarded him with wary eyes. "You probably could, but I'm not a beautiful woman."

"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder."

"I've heard that before," she snorted. "That's not true and furthermore, the person that made that up that little proverb, obviously wanted to lie about what they were looking at and didn't want to hurt that person's feelings. It's just a silly…"

"You are beautiful."

"…Old saying to make someone feel better about themselves even though they're…" she trailed off when she realized what he'd just said. Her eyes shot back to his. "What did you say?"

"I said that you are beautiful," he repeated as he stared into her widened, silver eyes. "And I meant it."

She felt like her heart stopped beating. Never in a million years did she think she would hear him say that. He was gazing directly into her eyes and she could see the sheen of honesty in them. He wasn't lying and it made her blood warm, and her toes curl.

A corner of his mouth tilted up a bit as he took in her shocked expression. Her pert pink lips were parted ever so slightly and her eyes stared, unblinking, at him. "I may be shy around girls, but I do know a beautiful woman when I see one. And you can trust women that possess it, but they also have something that glows within them as well to make them stand out in both. You're very attractive and I'm not afraid to admit that."

"You couldn't possibly mean that," she said finally, hiding the pleased feeling that coursed through her from his words. "Besides, didn't you say that I was one of those women you can't trust?"

Damien raked a hand through his hair. "I did say that, and I do say things I don't mean just to cover up what I'm really thinking. I've worked in the business world too long, where people don't say what they really mean. I'm used to that…so you don't have to take everything I say at face value."

"So, do are you going to deny that you would've kissed Claudia if I had not interrupted you?" she asked pointedly.

"I don't know…probably not…but you're right when you say that I have strong feelings for her."

"Then why did you come over here?"

"I wanted to talk to you about your reaction."

Angelina blanched slightly. "I was shocked, yes, but that was my only reaction," she bluffed.

"Liar."

"What?" she asked, snapping her eyes back to his face.

"You're lying. It did upset you more than you're letting on. I saw a look cross your face, which indicated otherwise. And I'm still getting that hostile vibe from you."

She shook her head negatively. "I did no such thing."

"Then you don't care anything about me?"

Rattled by his question, she raked her teeth over her bottom lip. She didn't answer.

"Well do you or don't you? You seem to have no trouble in admitting to throwing yourself at me," he stated.

"I just want to see your reactions, I like seeing you flustered. That has nothing to do with what I feel for you," she replied, shaking her head again.

"You're still lying," he said softly. "Didn't you say that I was attracted to you, but you said I didn't want to admit it?"

"…No…I don't know…"

"You did say it. Why are you the one covering it up now?"

"I'm not!"

"You are."

Angelina gave him her back. His words were disturbing. She didn't know he had seen that much, that he had been more than just a simple conquest. She was beginning to feel something stronger than just like towards him and when she saw Claudia, she hated the feeling that coursed through her. She didn't want to feel that much towards him. Deep down, she wanted to tell him things about herself that she hadn't even told the Maxwell kids. But she was too scared to open up and tell him those things. Jonathon had pried some of those things out of her, but he was always able to do that with her. He seemed to inspire someone to confide in him, especially girls. And she felt that Damien was the same way, but she couldn't seem to make herself. She found it easy to cover it up by being vivacious and flirty. "Ok, I admit that you're very attractive, in a boyish sort of way. You have a sexy smile, which I wouldn't mind tasting, but you are just a sexual attraction for me," she lied as she turned and faced him, looking him straight in the eye.

Damien arched a brow. She had just covered it up, just like Jonathon said she did and would. He crossed the room towards her and looked down at her. "You're hiding behind a mask as I do, aren't you? This isn't the real Angelina."

A soundless gasp escaped her lips as she tilted her head back to look at him.

"I'm right, aren't I? This is just an act to cover up what's inside."

"I don't have anything to hide."

"You do and you are," he said gently as he grasped her chin between his fingers so she couldn't turn away from him.

Stunned and shocked by what was happening. Electrical charges were shooting through her body from the contact of his fingers on her face. She wanted to pull away, but she couldn't, finding herself trapped between him and the wall of the fireplace. His fingers felt warm on her skin. "I don't have anything to hide," she said faintly. "What you see is what you get."

"I don't think so," he countered again, determined to see what she hid behind that overconfident, overtly flirtatious façade of hers. "What are you so afraid of, Angelina?"

Angelina closed her eyes from his since they were searching hers carefully. Her heart was pounding hard against her ribs. The only sound she could hear was their breathing in the quiet room since she had muted the television when she went to answer the door. Rolling her lips inward, she opened her eyes again to meet his. "I'm afraid of nothing."

"Then tell me."

"There's nothing to tell."

Damien sighed. She was being difficult on purpose. He wished he were better with girls like Miles and his brother seemed to be. They would know exactly what to say in this type of situation. He swallowed. He had to at least try something, anything, to gain some shred of her true self. He lifted her chin higher and lowered his head closer to hers until their noses barely touched. "Yes, there is something for you to tell. Tell me something, anything. Please…"

She blinked her eyes into focus as those eyes of his penetrated hers. She could feel his breath brushing against her lips, making them tingle. He sounded so sincere and so caring. It was making the resistance that she had built up over the years melt. She ran her tongue over her dry lips before she let out a deep sigh. "My…mother…said that no…one would want me…for my looks…just my brains…she said I was not…too much to look at…"

He could hear the painful inflection in her words. It made him feel angry that her mother would say something like that. "Why did she say that?"

"Who knows? Maybe because I loved my dad more than her…because she hated looking at something she created, that clearly was not going to look as beautiful as her. She didn't expect anything less than perfection…and I was far from perfect…"

He could see the tears glistening in her eyes. He felt a slight twinge in the region of his heart. He was shocked by his own reaction to what she was saying. He had wanted to dislike her, despise her for shamelessly throwing herself at him at every turn. He wanted so badly some days to make her disappear from his life, so he could go back to his peaceful one. But her words, never in a million years did he think what her own mother had said to her, would weaken his own resolve towards her and change what he felt towards her. He stroked her chin softly. "Your mother must have been jealous of you because you are much more attractive then her…"

Angelina couldn't believe what she was hearing from him. Of course, it was difficult to think coherent thoughts with him so close, but he sounded so genuine. Part of her wanted to open up and tell him everything, every little detail. His fingers grazing her chin had an intoxicating effect on her. She closed her eyes again. "You're comparing an average girl with a former model and beauty queen. There is no way you could say that I'm nicer looking than my mother."

"I've seen pictures and you're much prettier than she is. Why do you deny the fact that you're an attractive woman?"

"Because when you're told as often as I was, that I would never look like her, one tends to think less of them," she mumbled as she twisted her chin out of his grip. "And I can't believe you're saying this since you couldn't stand me from the moment I met you."

His lips tightened into a thin line as he then frowned.

"I'm right, aren't I?" she hissed as she managed to slide away from him and put a distance between them. "I was no more than some thorn in your side because you hated fast women like me. I still went after you even though you would yell at me to back off. So, I can't believe a word you're saying."

"Angelina, I already told you there are a lot of things that I say that I…"

"Don't mean," she finished for him in a bitter tone. "Well it's a little late for that now. I saw what you really wanted and you couldn't make that any clearer than shoving her in my face. She's what you want even though she'll tear your heart out."

"I don't want her!"

"You do! Don't deny it! You would take her back in a heartbeat!"

Damien gritted his teeth. "Well at least I wouldn't have to put up with this crap I get from you!"

Angelina blanched visibly, but quickly recovered. "The crap you get from me is probably nothing compared what she put you through. I've already seen the pain in your eyes when I asked you about her the first time, so it's no skin off of my nose if you want her back. She's a bad seed and you know it. You just don't want to admit the fact that the woman you love is less than perfect and God forbid that she isn't!"

He turned his head away from her. "She may have hurt me, but don't disparage her because she did."

Her mouth fell open. "My God! You are so blind when it comes to her! So incapable of believing that a person that is that perfect! Newsflash! An apple that shiny has to have a worm inside!"

"Well you think you're the perfect temptation, don't you? You flaunt your sexuality constantly, hoping I'll fall into your trap! Well newsflash for you, sweetheart, I don't like women like you, period! You just want to see how many men can want you before you drop them like a bad habit! I'm not swayed by your act at all! And some day it's going to come back and smack you in the ass and you're going to regret being a tease from hell! Furthermore, you'll get bunches of "I told you so" for your own reckless behavior! No one will want you because of it!"

This time, she flinched and snapped her lips shut. Her eyes met his, having turned to stormy silver. "Then there isn't any more for us to say, is there?" she asked in a cold voice.

Damien saw the shuddering of her body as the enormity of what he had just snapped at her, hit him. "Angelina, I…"

"Just leave. You seemed to tell me off just like you wanted to since I met you. You gained the courage to do so. I'm impressed. You flatter me one minute and you stick a knife in my back in the next. You are a piece of work, Damien Winner. You were right, when you said that you never say what you mean, I know now never to believe a word you say. Now, get out before I make you."

He stared at her, angry with himself for saying what he said to her, and angry with her for bringing out the worst in him. "Fine," he said tersely as he stalked past her to the back door, slamming it behind him. Once he climbed into his car, he muttered several expletives in Arabian and than in Spanish. "Shit," he muttered under his breath as he looked back towards the house. "You really knew what to say to her, didn't you, Damien. You told her off just like you wanted to," he said, his tone acid. But the pleasure he had expected to feel from it, left an acrid taste in his mouth.

Angelina held herself rigid, pushing her tears down, deep inside of her. "You will not cry over him! He's not worth your tears," she berated as she sat back down on the couch. Her mother's words rang in her ears as she pressed her fingers against her temples. "You'll never get a man if you don't flaunt the little sexuality you have, Angelina…You're looks leave a lot to be desired…No man will want you for your looks, just your mind, since you have nothing to offer in that department…Why do you bother trying to enhance your looks? You'll never be pretty that way either…" "Stop it, stop it, stop it," she moaned as she pushed the heels of her hands into her eyes. "Thank you, Damien for making me feel worthless, just like my mother," she said in a soft, flat tone before wrapping herself back up in the blanket to ward off the chill that entered her heart and soul.

A/N: What do you think? I know I should be horsewhipped for making characters miserable, but hey, I can't help it! I bet some of you wish you could reach through the screen and strangle me. So until next time! XOXO!!