How could she? This wasn’t as bad as if she’d been caught watching Damon in his bedroom, but it was a fairly close second. What would he think of her and her motives for eavesdropping? There was no way she could explain to him that she’d only wanted to have a look at him, to hear his voice, because she feared she’d die soon and knew she couldn’t possibly get enough of him before that day came. Surprise flickered across his face, but he quickly tamed it. “You’ve been here for a while, haven’t you?” His voice wasn’t the velvet rage she’d expected. If anything, it was calmer than when he’d spoken with his sister. “Yes.” Elsie answered, feeling as if someone else had spoken for her. Someone who wasn’t thanking God that it was too dark for Damon to see how red her face was. He stood perfectly still, peering down at her with an unreadable expression. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean—” “What are you doing out here?” he interrupted. “It’s past midnight.
