Craved
Chapter 11

Renee:

Renee wouldn't admit it to Damon, but she was actually enjoying the balloon ride. The land stretched out before them like a huge kid's playground. Surreal. The Hoodoos, or fairy chimneys, looked as though they'd emerged from a different land and were dropped there by mistake-like they spilled from a giant's sack as tan, whipped cream dollops. They were thicker at the bottom, some with cone-like tapered tops reminding her of phallic symbols. Ancient people carved rooms and homes in the Hoodoos and people still lived in them. Restaurants and hotels occupied them as well.

In the distance, the mountains and rivers cradled the land.

"Ho!" Gary called from his and Michael's hot air balloon a few yards away.

Renee waved to them, smiling.

Michael waved back, then put his arm around Gary, pointing out something below them. Renee turned away, watching the world grow smaller as they flew.

The air cooled, and Renee shivered from a chilly breeze swishing through her. Carla, the self-proclaimed love psychic, received lessons from the operator and didn't seem to care about the view as much as learning how to work the gas off and

on.

"Cold?" Damon asked.

Damn her chattering teeth or Renee would've said no. Wearing shorts and a thin blouse was so not a good idea. Without a word, he wrapped his arms around her. Pressing her into his warmth, he set every nerve alive and she craved more of his touch. His body temperature scorched her in the most delicious way. She wiggled back against his chest while the earth unfurled before them.

No matter how much she refused to acknowledge it, she wished Damon were single. He didn't seem like the type of guy who slept around and went after shallow women or at least didn't match his intelligence despite Melanie.

What about his heart? She hadn't thought of it. Sometimes, when he goaded her, she doubted he cared about anything or anyone but himself.

She melted when his breath caressed her cheek.

"Admit it. It's spectacular."

"The view is lovely, but I-"

"Finally, we've reached the fairy chimneys. Time for our toast!" Carla handed them two glasses.

Would Renee have another weird dream about Damon if she drank? The Turkish drink had been strong, but she'd only taken one sip. What would a glass of champagne do?

"A toast." Damon held up his glass. "To Carla, who is a good friend and has put up with me on numerous expeditions." He clicked his glass to hers. "To Renee. May she encounter all she seeks and more whether it is in the skies or upon the earth."

Her cheeks heated. "To my first official hot air balloon ride."

"Cheers!" Carla said, raising her glass at Renee and Damon.

Embarrassed at the attention, Renee downed the drink, then coughed when the bubbles tickled her nose. "Cheers." She took a step away, and her ankle twisted. Before she hit the basket's floor, Damon grabbed her arm and steadied her. "Careful. Are you okay?"

"Fine. Guess too much excitement and champagne." She let out a nervous laugh. Great, now he'd think she couldn't hold her liquor.

"I could hold you again-make sure you don't stumble." A teasing smile lifted the corners of his mouth. "Wouldn't want to have you fall out."

"Not likely." She handed him her empty glass. "Got a parachute, just in case."

His grin made her stomach flutter as he took the glass from her and tucked it back in the picnic basket. "If you change your mind, I'm right here."

She craved his arms around her, but he was with Melanie. The woman hurt her toe on a rock and recovered at a nearby hotel but could arrive at any moment and guilt would ravage Renee for having lustful desires toward her man. Then the world war of bitch-slapping could commence. She giggled at the ridiculous thought.

"What's so funny?" Damon studied her; his head tilted.

The afternoon sun glinted off his eyes. Oh, they were sexy intense and stared at her like he viewed her soul, her secrets, and her wishes. Didn't matter what his eyes looked like or how they twinkled when he was teasing her he had a girlfriend.

She shook her head. "Just remembered something."

He slinked closer. "Do share."

"When I was nine, I missed a balloon ride school field trip."

"Oh? On purpose or..." He reached out and traced the side of her jaw, and she blinked to focus.

"No. I broke out with chickenpox the day before. Mom covered me in pink lotion, but the sores itched everywhere. Even her homemade tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches didn't comfort me." She looked back over the horizon. "Don't know why I never tried to make up the experience. The view is beautiful." And cold. She crossed her arms and stuffed her hands against her sides.

"Take my jacket," Damon offered.

Since her fingers were blue and cold like icicles against her skin, she nodded. "Thank you."

Without a word, he took off his black jacket and draped the material over her. The warmth enveloped her as if she'd stepped into a hot sauna. The smell of leather mixed with Damon's scent nearly made her legs give way.

No wonder people lined up for these rides; it was perfect. She pushed her arms through the sleeves. Would Damon mind if his jacket smelled of her when she returned it to him?

He explained to Carla about how the river gained its name. The operator gave Renee a curt nod, and she faced the horizon. When a gust made her fingers numb, she braced against the basket, and shoved her hands deep into the jacket's pockets.

In the left pocket was a wad of paper, and not thinking, she pulled it out to see a note with fading blue ink on a dry cleaner's receipt.

Damon, my love, I'm writing this on the first day of winter to surprise you. Though I know you don't wear your coat often, so when you get this, you will think of me. You don't have to hold back who you are with me. Despite the demand for caution as you tell me time and again, I want all of you no matter the repercussions. My choice, not yours, whatever happens. We were together with your power four times now, and we can continue. If I don't survive, whether by your hand or fates, don't blame yourself. I love you.

Yours forever, Belinda.

Renee's stomach lurched. A glance around told her no one spotted her reading the letter, and she stuffed the paper back inside. Belinda loved Damon. A pang of bittersweet longing filled Renee. To have someone love her and to love someone so deeply... But shame twisted through her. Shame on her for reading someone's love letter. What happened to this Belinda? Had they broken up? Was she another woman he saw on the side?

Did Damon regard Belinda as a sex toy and leave when she got too close? But why keep the note? She did say he didn't wear the coat much. Either he hadn't discovered the letter or had forgotten to take it out.

And what power or was that code between them for his high sex drive? Renee's cheeks heated from the thought and the memory of her dream.

"Ready to head back?" Damon asked her, and she jumped at his nearness.

"No, um, yes." She couldn't wear his jacket. Not with some woman's love note burning through the pocket. "Here. I'm warm enough now." "Keep it on until we land."

She tore off the leather jacket and shoved it into his hands. "I said I didn't need it anymore. Take it."

If they'd been on the ground, she'd have dashed away, but there was not much room in the basket several feet above the earth. Instantly the cold wind whipped her hair, and she clamped her teeth shut so he'd not know she was freezing. With a shrug, he laid his jacket over his arm. He didn't seem to be cold in the slightest, so why had he brought it? For her benefit? The thought made her chest warm.

After a slow descent, they landed at camp. Even before the balloon came to a complete stop, she scrambled over the side. She hiked back to camp with Damon and Carla trailing behind her.

Get a grip! Just a stupid note. Damon wasn't dating her. Still, her heart slammed against her chest as if in betrayal of her thoughts. Damn it! She stopped herself from running to her tent. Her skin itched all over. If possible, she'd give anything to turn back time and never open that damn letter. Reading those words were like invading someone's diary. Private, personal, and she'd invaded Belinda's thoughts. Renee's stomach cramped.

Even though outside the tents, the crew ate hotdogs and roasted marshmallows, Renee remained in hers despite the delicious aroma tempting her.

Later, Carla poked her head inside. "Hey, a bunch of us are going swimming in the river before dark. Wanna come?"

"No thanks." She plastered a smile on her face. Never boded well to try and explain her phobia to people. They never understood.

The memory of nearly drowning and Damon saving her took her breath. Then his scolding her as though a child and demanding she learned to swim. He cared about her safety and that brought warmth to the center of her chest. Before her dad died, she loved playing in water. He saved her from rapids on their family vacation, only to be sucked under and unable to rise for breath. She'd seen his face under the water, eyes staring at her. But she couldn't lift him. Couldn't help as her three-year-old arms clung to the rock while she wailed for him. Ever since then, deep water terrified her. She couldn't breathe and her arms and legs became unmovable pillars. She only took showers or ankle-deep baths. When she slipped under the water with Damon, she'd froze. Panic squeezed her lungs, her body. Her mom tried swim lessons, but instructor after instructor gave up. Water had taken her dad, and he was bigger and stronger than her. By the time Renee was old enough to understand exactly what happened, it was too late. The phobia already crippled her. Logically, outside, and away from the water, she could rationalize her fear. As soon as she got too close to deep water, her mind raged as a child afraid of the boogie man no matter how many times their parents showed them no monster lurked in the closet.

If she told Damon the truth, he'd probably laugh at her. Call her silly like one of her swim coaches and throw her into the deep end of the pool. Only her mother's screams and finally diving in after Renee saved her life.

The life before Henderson, her stepfather, seemed like another lifetime. Ever since, her mom only sought his approval and said nothing when he demanded Renee move out on her own at eighteen even though she had no job and was taking her first full semester at college.

He thought she'd fail and beg for his grace. But she didn't. She'd thrived. Every time she visited her mom, he bragged that Renee was successful because she was forced to leave. She would never let a man rule her life.