and protect you that way?”
“No.”
“Why not?” I hated that she’d already decided she wasn’t capable of having the kind of relationship I could tell she secretly longed for. After the childhood she’d had, it was no wonder she wanted a partner she believed she could count on to always be there for her.
“I can’t love someone enough to expect that kind of devotion in return.”
Those may have been the saddest words I’d ever heard. I’d never been a romantic, but I’d always believed in the possibility of finding love someday. The irony wasn’t lost on me. I’d finally found a woman I could love, but she’d made it painfully clear she could never love me in return.
Chapter Eight
Eleni
I couldn’t believe I’d opened up to Damon like that. Not even Mia knew the whole story surrounding my mother’s death. How could I have told him? The answer came almost as swiftly as the question: he made me feel safe and protected. He didn’t judge me and had never tried to change me.
Most of the men I’d met and dated had pushed for more. They’d wanted a commitment. They’d wanted to be exclusive. They’d wanted to take me home to meet their families. A few had even been naïve enough to propose, thinking I would change my stance on relationships when presented with a ring.
But Damon was different. Sure, he seemed jealous of the time I spent with Miles, but he didn’t pressure me to stop seeing him. Damon didn’t ask for more than I was willing to give. He seemed content to get to know me better, to spend time with me and allow things to evolve naturally. Of course, I suspected that was because his aversion to commitments rivaled mine. That alone made him the perfect man for me. No fuss, no muss—just hot sex on demand.
“What’s that look about?”
I glanced up to see him carrying in a tray with wine, two glasses, crackers, cheese, and grapes. I’d already stayed longer than I’d intended. A quick glance at the clock told me it was after two, and I should have been getting home to my own bed. But wrapped up in the warmth and safety of his big bed, with the promise of a repeat of the three-peat he’d treated me to earlier, I couldn’t find the will to put my feet on the floor.
“I was just thinking I should get going,” I said.
“No, you shouldn’t.” He set the tray on the nightstand, which was the size of my single chest of drawers.
Everything in his room was huge, from the scale of the room to the walnut gilded four-poster bed, which only occupied a fraction of the space. While my taste was more modern, his skilled interior designer had definitely made his home seem warm and inviting in spite of the size.
“I’m surprised by the traditional décor,” I said, propping my back against the headboard when he handed me a plate containing a stem of grapes, crackers, and a slice of brie. “I would have guessed your style to be more sleek and contemporary.”
“This is the way I grew up,” he said, sitting beside me as he poured wine into each of our glasses. “Formal, traditional furnishings were the way we lived. When it was time to furnish my own place, I wanted to stick with the traditional theme, but I wanted it to be more comfortable, more liveable.” He chuckled. “Wait ‘til you see some of my parents’ places. They’re the very definition of ostentatious.”
I didn’t know that his parents would ever invite me to break bread with them. If they did, I knew it would be because of my relationship with Mia, not Damon. I was certain they expected their son to marry a socialite, someone who traveled in the same circles and understood their world. Even though they’d made an exception for Mia, I suspected that was because Deacon hadn’t given them the option.
“I can’t imagine living that way,” I admitted, popping a grape in my mouth. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure it would be nice not having to worry about money, but it all just seems…
“No.”
“Why not?” I hated that she’d already decided she wasn’t capable of having the kind of relationship I could tell she secretly longed for. After the childhood she’d had, it was no wonder she wanted a partner she believed she could count on to always be there for her.
“I can’t love someone enough to expect that kind of devotion in return.”
Those may have been the saddest words I’d ever heard. I’d never been a romantic, but I’d always believed in the possibility of finding love someday. The irony wasn’t lost on me. I’d finally found a woman I could love, but she’d made it painfully clear she could never love me in return.
Chapter Eight
Eleni
I couldn’t believe I’d opened up to Damon like that. Not even Mia knew the whole story surrounding my mother’s death. How could I have told him? The answer came almost as swiftly as the question: he made me feel safe and protected. He didn’t judge me and had never tried to change me.
Most of the men I’d met and dated had pushed for more. They’d wanted a commitment. They’d wanted to be exclusive. They’d wanted to take me home to meet their families. A few had even been naïve enough to propose, thinking I would change my stance on relationships when presented with a ring.
But Damon was different. Sure, he seemed jealous of the time I spent with Miles, but he didn’t pressure me to stop seeing him. Damon didn’t ask for more than I was willing to give. He seemed content to get to know me better, to spend time with me and allow things to evolve naturally. Of course, I suspected that was because his aversion to commitments rivaled mine. That alone made him the perfect man for me. No fuss, no muss—just hot sex on demand.
“What’s that look about?”
I glanced up to see him carrying in a tray with wine, two glasses, crackers, cheese, and grapes. I’d already stayed longer than I’d intended. A quick glance at the clock told me it was after two, and I should have been getting home to my own bed. But wrapped up in the warmth and safety of his big bed, with the promise of a repeat of the three-peat he’d treated me to earlier, I couldn’t find the will to put my feet on the floor.
“I was just thinking I should get going,” I said.
“No, you shouldn’t.” He set the tray on the nightstand, which was the size of my single chest of drawers.
Everything in his room was huge, from the scale of the room to the walnut gilded four-poster bed, which only occupied a fraction of the space. While my taste was more modern, his skilled interior designer had definitely made his home seem warm and inviting in spite of the size.
“I’m surprised by the traditional décor,” I said, propping my back against the headboard when he handed me a plate containing a stem of grapes, crackers, and a slice of brie. “I would have guessed your style to be more sleek and contemporary.”
“This is the way I grew up,” he said, sitting beside me as he poured wine into each of our glasses. “Formal, traditional furnishings were the way we lived. When it was time to furnish my own place, I wanted to stick with the traditional theme, but I wanted it to be more comfortable, more liveable.” He chuckled. “Wait ‘til you see some of my parents’ places. They’re the very definition of ostentatious.”
I didn’t know that his parents would ever invite me to break bread with them. If they did, I knew it would be because of my relationship with Mia, not Damon. I was certain they expected their son to marry a socialite, someone who traveled in the same circles and understood their world. Even though they’d made an exception for Mia, I suspected that was because Deacon hadn’t given them the option.
“I can’t imagine living that way,” I admitted, popping a grape in my mouth. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure it would be nice not having to worry about money, but it all just seems…
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