Evelyn stared down at the woman’s hand curling softly around her wrist. Lucian loved his mother
and that made it difficult to care for Tibet. They’d definitely gotten off on the wrong foot. She stepped back, cutting all physical contact.
“I think you want to protect Christos the same way I want to protect Lucian. If Christos considers
the people he loves a liability, and sees Lucian as a threat, it only proves that he loves his son. I’m glad. But they both have to own their mistakes for anything to change. Your husband taught Lucian
everything he knows about being cold and calculating. We won’t stay long. He can either make this
right or continue on the way things have always been. I asked Lucian to come here, but if I was wrong
and he gets hurt, I’ll never push him toward his father again.”
A door slammed and they both winced. Tibet sighed. “Christos wants to love, but he doesn’t know
how.”
“Does anyone? Excuse me.”
Evelyn left the garden room and knocked softly on the doors that led to the den. “Yes?”
It was Christos. She slid the doors open and sighed at the sight of his haggard expression. Lucian
was gone.
“I suspect you’ll be leaving shortly,” he said.
She entered the room and settled into a chair. “You fought?”
He sighed. “It’s the only way we know.”
“Why?”
“Because that is the way it’s always been.”
Looking down at her knees peeking past the hem of her dress, she thought. “You know, my entire
life, I never heard my mother say she loved me. I wasn’t quite sure what love was. I saw it as an
obligation of attachment. When I met Lucian and, for the first time, actually fell in love, I hated it. It was inconvenient and messy and changed me in ways I wasn’t comfortable with.
“I denied my feelings, but he insisted the absence of words didn’t negate the truth of sentiment. I
didn’t come around until I thought I lost him.” Her mind tracked back to those horrible nights she
spent crying for him, hating how much he could hurt her. “He was right. I loved him. Saying so didn’t
make the feelings any more true, and bottling them up did nothing to diminish how I felt.”
Christos watched her as she spoke. The resemblance between him and Lucian was perhaps what
made her comfortable speaking to him so candidly. She went on.
“My mother was sick from the time I was born. Drugs. She was the only influence I ever had. There
was plenty about her that I hated, but also plenty I adored. She taught me what not to be as much as
she showed me how to survive. When you aren’t given certain things, it’s difficult to miss them. But
after meeting Lucian, every time he told me he loved me, I realized, more than any object of value,
that was what I wanted most. Love. I finally understood how starved I was for such tenderness. I
wanted to hear those words from my mom, to just once know what it felt like to hear that she cared for
me the way he did. I never did.”
“I see why Lucian cares for you. You’re a very intelligent young lady,” Christos said, and she
lowered her gaze to hide the heat rising under her cheeks. His voice grew soft, barely audible. “I was
not a good father.”
She gave him a moment for his words to settle in. There was no need to comment. The truth is what
it is. She was glad when he went on.
“I’m proud of the man Lucian’s become, but if I told him that, he’d make some snide comment,
discrediting the truth of my words.”
“We all have defense mechanisms. Nobody wants to be rejected, but love means putting yourself
out there. Someone has to take the first step.”
“I suppose that should be me,” Christos commented, his dark eyes meeting hers.
“He loves you. I know he does. If he didn’t, the distance between you wouldn’t bother him so much.
Hate does not negate love. Indifference is what you need to fear, but I promise you, Lucian is not
indifferent toward you.”
They were quiet for several long minutes. “Do you intend to marry my son?”
If she hadn’t known Lucian as well as she did, she might have been put off by his father’s bluntness.
“He has to ask.”
“I think,” Christos said quietly, “it would be a novel experience having a daughter I can talk to.”
She smiled. His compliment was simple and understated, but it gave her a great sense of
accomplishment. She met his gaze as if there was an unspoken secret between them. “I think it would
be nice to have the same in a parent.”
“That won’t be possible if Lucian forbids it.”
He was right. She wouldn’t speak to him if it meant hurting Lucian. Her first loyalty was to him.
“You can make sure he doesn’t.”
They both turned as the door slid open. Lucian appraised the two of them, his eyes narrow and