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And she had.
Eleni had offered him her love. And she’d asked for his in return.
But he’d rejected her. The worst thing he could have done was not take her seriously. Only he’d done even worse. He’d scoffed at her.
That hot streak of possessiveness surged through his veins as he clicked open that ultrasound image again. But he sucked in a steadying breath. He didn’t get to be possessive, not without earning her forgiveness first. Not without begging to make everything better. And how did he get to her now she was back in that damn prison of a palace?
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
‘ARE YOU SURE you’re feeling up to this, ma’am?’ Bettina asked Eleni carefully.
‘That’s what blusher is for, right?’ Eleni answered wryly. ‘And I still have quite the tan on my arms.’ She forced a smile for her maid. ‘I’m fine to go. It’ll be fun. But thank you.’
She needed to fill in her day. She needed to feel something.
She’d been buried in the palace for almost a fortnight, hoping she’d hear from him. But she hadn’t. She couldn’t face drawing, couldn’t face the pool. She’d tried reading. But her mind still wandered to him. She hated how much she ached for him.
He doesn’t deserve me.
She tried to remind herself, but it didn’t lessen the hurt. Hopefully this gallery visit would take her mind off him even for a few minutes. The fact that it was a children’s tour was even better because children asked questions fearlessly—with no thought to privacy or palace protocol. It would be a good test. She’d have to hold herself together when they mentioned his name. And they would ask. They’d want to see her engagement and wedding rings. They’d want to see her smiling.
They expected a blushing, beyond happy bride.
Giorgos had sounded harried when he’d phoned, which was unlike him. And for whatever reason that he hadn’t had time to explain, he was still residing at the Summer House and he’d asked if she’d attend the small gallery opening on his behalf. Of course she’d agreed. She’d been going insane staying inside. She needed to build a busy and fulfilling life. Then she could and would cope with the break in her heart.
But she’d appreciated the concern in Giorgos’s voice. Just as she appreciated Bettina’s quiet care. And her bodyguard’s constant, silent presence.
She smiled as Tony opened the car door for her. ‘It’s nice to have you back.’
‘Thank you, ma’am.’
‘I promise not to disappear on you today,’ she teased lightly, determined not to hide from the past. dpg!
‘I understand, ma’am.’ Tony’s impassive expression cracked and he smiled at her. ‘You won’t be out of my sight for a second.’
‘I understand and I do appreciate it.’
It was a beautiful late summer morning but she’d added a light jacket to complement the floaty-style floral dress she’d worn to hide her figure and deflect any conjecture and commentary. That suspicion would be raised soon enough. But preferably not today.
* * *
Twenty minutes later she stepped out of the car at the discreet side entrance of the new art space. She took a moment to accept a posy of flowers from a sweet young girl. But as she turned to enter the gallery she froze, her heart seizing. She blinked and moved as Tony guided her forward. But she glanced back as something caught her eye. For a second she’d thought she’d seen a masculine figure standing on the far side of the road—tall, broad, more handsome than Adonis...
Wishful, impossible thinking.
Because there was no man there now.
Releasing a measured breath, she walked with the small group of children through the new wing of the gallery, focusing her mind to discuss the paintings with them. But despite the easing of her morning sickness over the past few days, maintaining her spark during the visit drained her more than she’d thought it would. She was relieved when she saw Tony give her the usual signal before turning slightly to mutter into his mobile phone.
* * *
Damon had half expected soldiers to swoop on him and frogmarch him straight to the city dungeons, but the coast was clear and the path to the car easy. It was unlocked and he took the driver’s seat, waiting for the signal. Anticipation surged as his phone rang. He could hardly remain still.
Finally the passenger door opened. He heard her polite thanks.
He started the engine. As soon as she’d got into the car and the door closed behind her, he pulled away from the kerb.
‘Tony?’ Eleni leaned forward in her seat.
‘Damon,’ he corrected, a vicious pleasure shooting through his body at just hearing her voice again.
He glanced up and looked in the rear-view mirror and almost lost control of the car in the process. She was so beautiful. But that soft colour slowly leeched from her skin as she met his gaze in the mirror and realised it truly was him. If he’d suffered before, he really felt it then. He’d killed her joy. The make-up stood out starkly against her whitened face. She’d had to paint on her customary vitality—her luminescence stolen. By him.
Her eyes were suddenly swimming in tears but she blinked them back. The effort she was expending to stay in control was immense. He hated seeing her this wretched. But at the same time, her distress gave him hope. His presence moved her. She hadn’t forgotten him. Hadn’t got over him.
He didn’t deserve her.
‘Why are you here?’ She demanded his answer in the frostiest tones he’d ever heard from her.
All he wanted was to enfold her in his arms but he couldn’t. She was furious with him and she had every right to be. He had to talk to her. Ask for forgiveness. Then ask for everything.
When he’d already rejected her.
He gripped the steering wheel more tightly as anxiety sharpened his muscles and he tried to remember where the hell he was going. Because this was going to be even harder than he’d imagined. And he’d imagined the worst.
‘I’m kidnapping you.’ He ground the words out, holding back all the others scrambling in his throat. He needed to get them somewhere that they could talk in private.
He glanced back at the rear-view mirror. Her emotion had morphed into cold, hard rage.
‘I’m not doing this to Tony again,’ she snapped, turning to look out of the window behind her to see if any cars were behind them. ‘He’ll be following. He doesn’t deserve—’
‘Tony knows you’re with me,’ he said quickly. ‘So does Giorgos.’
She flicked her head back, her eyes flashing. ‘So you planned this with everyone but me?’
He didn’t want to answer more. He was only making it worse. Damn, it turned out he was good at that.
‘This is not okay, Damon,’ she said coldly.
‘None of this is okay,’ he growled, swerving around the nearest corner. ‘And I can’t wait—’ He broke off and parked on one of the narrow cobbled streets.
‘Can’t wait for what?’ she asked haughtily.
* * *
Eleni waited for his answer, trying to remain in control, but underneath her calm demeanour her heart was pounding and it was almost impossible to stop distress overtaking her sensibility. Damon was here. Not only that, he’d colluded with her brother and her bodyguard and she couldn’t bear to think about why.
It mattered too much. He mattered too much.
But it was too late. He’d made his choice. He’d let her go. He’d let her down.
She refused to believe in the hope fluttering pathetically in her heart. This was too soon. She hadn’t grown a strong enough scab over her wounds to meet him yet.
‘Eleni.’
She closed her eyes. He couldn’t do this to her.
One look. One word. That was all it took for her to want to fall into his arms again. She refused to be that weak. She couldn’t let him have that power over her.
‘Take me back to the palace,’ she ordered.
He killed the engine. She watched, frozen, as he got out of the car and swiftly opened the rear passeng
er door. But before she could move he’d slid into the back seat with her and locked the doors again.
‘Give me ten minutes,’ he said, removing his aviator sunglasses and gazing intently at her. ‘If you wish to return to the palace afterwards, then I’ll take you there. I just want ten minutes. Can you give me that?’
She wanted to give him so much more already. But she couldn’t. She’d been a fool for him already; she wasn’t making that mistake again. ‘What more is there to say, Damon? We want different things.’
