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Bitterness welled, a surging ball of disappointment within himself. For himself.

‘Are you okay?’ Eleni gave him a searching look as she joined him to stroll along the beach.

‘Fine.’ He flashed a smile through a gritted jaw and kept strolling along the beach, staring down at the sand.

But he wasn’t and wasn’t it typical that she’d already sensed that? She was too compassionate. Too empathetic.

‘Did you spend up large?’ He made himself make that small talk.

‘Every cent.’ She held up a carrier bag and shook it, a twinkle in her eye that he couldn’t bear to see right now.

‘Then let’s go back,’ he said briskly.

He sensed her quick frown but she simply turned and quietly walked alongside him.

Of course she did; that was Eleni all over—doing what was asked of her, knowing her place, unquestioning when she sensed tension.

It was how she handled Giorgos, how she handled the public and palace demands on her. And, apparently, it was now how she handled him.

It was the last damn thing that he wanted. He wanted impetuous, spontaneous, emotional Eleni who liked nothing more than to challenge him. But what he wanted no longer mattered. Because she was vulnerable and he didn’t have the skills that she was going to need long term. He’d just proven that to himself. The lust they shared wasn’t ever going to be enough and the sooner they separated, the better.

He was such a damn disappointment to himself—let alone to anyone else.

‘I’m going to the workshop for a while,’ he said the second their helicopter landed.

‘Sure.’

He turned his back on that hint of coolness in her voice. The tiniest thread of uncertainty. Of hurt. He had to walk away to stop hurting her more. That was the point.

The guys were heads down, but he waved them away when he walked into the room. He’d rebalance in here. Get stuck in another of the projects. But while he could take in the info his team had sent him, he couldn’t make it stick. The future kept calling—her pregnancy, the baby. What he was never going to be able to do for them both.

‘Which do you want to go with?’ Olly ventured over to Damon, showing him three designs for a new logo.

‘I need to think about it.’ Damon lifted the sheet displaying the three options, his gaze narrowing as he registered the colours. He wanted to do more than think about it. He wanted to ask Eleni. She had a better eye than any of them.

‘I had a call from one of those futurist foundations,’ Olly said as Damon headed to the door. ‘They’d like you to speak at next year’s gala.’

More like they wanted him to bring his beautiful Princess wife. He did not want her used that way.

‘Next year?’ Damon asked idly, still staring down at the sheet.

‘They’re planning well ahead of time. Futurists,’ Olly joked.

Time. Damon walked out of the den. In time, according to Damon’s plan, he and Eleni would be sharing custody but living separately. They’d be on their way to divorce already. She wouldn’t be curled next to him in bed, or sitting at a desk at his side any more. And their child would be a few months old. Their tiny baby with its tiny heart would still be so vulnerable. His chest tightened. He had no idea how to provide the required protection. How did he protect Eleni? How did he give either of them what they needed when he hardly knew what that was? When he’d never had it himself?

Eleni had changed so much in the few days she’d had of freedom. He realised now how much more she needed. How much more she deserved. She was loving and generous and kind. She deserved someone who could give all that back to her tenfold.

She was going to be a far better mother to their child than his mother had been to him. She was open; she was generous. She was loving.

What did he have to offer her? She had a workaholic brother and no one else close in her life. She needed a husband who could offer her a warm, loving family. All he could offer were sycophantic grandparents who’d leech everything they could from the connection—and offer nothing. No warmth. No love.

Damon had money, sure. But King Giorgos would never let his little sister suffer financial hardship. There was nothing else he really had to offer her—other than orgasms and the occasional cheesy line that made her laugh. He didn’t know how to be a good father, or a good husband. She deserved more than that. She deserved the best.

And he had to help her find that somehow. He owed her that much at least, didn’t he?

He walked to the house, missing her already, wanting her advice on the decision he couldn’t quite make, just wanting to be near her again. He found her at her desk—her new favourite place—clad in a vibrant orange bikini that was bold and cheerful and sexy as hell. She wore a sheer white shirt over it that hung loose and revealed a gently tanned shoulder. Her hair wasn’t brushed into smooth perfection but looked tousled and soft and there wasn’t a scrap of make-up on her glowing skin.

She looked beautiful and relaxed; he’d never seen her look happier. She was thriving, from so little. She should have so much more. More than he could ever give her.

Her welcoming smile pained him in a way he’d never been pained before.

‘You’re busy.’ He hesitated, staying at a distance, trying to resist that fierce, fierce pull.

She deserves better.

‘It’s okay.’ She put down her pen and turned her full focus on him. ‘What did you want?’

He’d forgotten already. But her gaze grazed the paper he was holding.

‘I just...’ he glanced down at the images he held ‘...wanted your opinion on this.’

‘My opinion?’ she echoed softly.

‘You have an artist’s eye.’ He gruffly pushed the words past the block in his throat. ‘I wanted to know which you think is better.’

Eleni blinked, pulling her scattered wits together. He walked in here looking all stormy and broody and sexy as hell and then wanted her opinion on something he was clinging to as if it were worth his very soul?

‘Are you going to let me see it?’ She smiled but he didn’t smile back.

He put the page on her desk. She studied the three designs that had been printed on it. That he valued her input touched her and it took her a moment to focus on what he’d asked her to do. ‘I think this one is cleaner. It stays in the mind more.’ She pointed to the one on the left. ‘Don’t you think?’

‘Yes,’ he said, nodding brusquely. ‘Thank you.’

A defiant, determined look crossed his face as he stepped back from her. She stilled, trying to read all the contrary emotions flickering in his expression. He always tried to contain such depth of feeling, but right now it was pouring from him and she could only stare, aching to understand what on earth was churning in his head.

‘What?’ His lips twisted in a wry, self-mocking smile. ‘I don’t know why you’re staring at me when you’re the one with ink on her nose.’

‘Oh.’ Embarrassed, she rubbed the side of her nose with her finger.

He half snorted, half groaned. ‘Come here,’ he ordered gruffly, tugging a clean tissue from the box on his desk.

She loved being this close to him. Loved the way he teased her as he cared for her. She held ultra-still so he could wipe the smear from her face. He was so close, so tender and she ached for that usual teasing. But his eyes were even more intensely blue and his expression grave. He focused on her in a way that no one else ever had. He saw beyond the superficial layers through to

her needs beneath. Not just her needs. Her gifts. He saw value in her and he appreciated it. That mattered to her more than she could have ever imagined. Suddenly, thoughtlessly, she swayed, her need to be closer to him driving her body.

‘Eleni?’ He gripped her arms to steady her, concern deepening the blue of his eyes even more. ‘You okay?’

All the feelings bloomed in the face of the irresistible temptation he embodied—the capricious risk he dared from her with a mere look. But beneath it was the steadfast core of certainty. He’d caught her. Just as he’d caught her and held her close that very first night. Somehow she knew he’d always catch her. He was there for her in a way no one had ever been before. That spontaneous tide of emotion only he stirred now swept from her heart, carrying with it those secret words until they slipped right out of her in a shaky whisper of truth that she breathed between them.

‘I love you.’

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

‘I’M NOT SORRY I said that,’ she said shakily, determined to believe her own words.

Impulsive. Impetuous. Spontaneous. Stupid.

Because he stood rigid as rock, his fingers digging hard into her upper arms and his eyes wide. But his obvious shock somehow made her bold. She could have no regrets. Not about this. Not now. So she said it again—louder this time.

‘I’ve fallen in love with you, Damon.’

It felt good to admit it. Terrifying, but good.

His expression still didn’t change. Just as it hadn’t in the last ten seconds. But then he released her so quickly she had to take a step back to maintain her balance.

‘You only think you’re in love with me because I was your first.’ He finally spoke—harsh and blunt. And then he turned his back on her.

That was so out of left-field that she gaped as he walked away towards his desk. ‘Give me some credit.’ She was so stunned she stormed after him and yanked on his arm to make him face her again. ‘Even just a little.’

But he shrugged her hand off.

‘Eleni, look...’ He paused and drew breath. ‘You’ve never felt lust before. You haven’t had the opportunity until now. I’m just the first guy you’ve met who got your rocks off. But lust doesn’t equal love. It never does.’


Tags: Natalie Anderson Billionaire Romance