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She wanted love so very badly.
His love.
She’d wanted his lie to be true, so she’d ignored anything that had shown it for what it was.
“She is a Valenti,” he said. “She will have my name, my protection, and all of my power behind her. And she will have her mother. You had literature on adoption in your car...”
“I was given pamphlets by a doctor, and didn’t clean out my purse. You don’t know anything about me, Krav, you don’t want to. You listen to my story, and yet you heard nothing. You don’t know who I am. You don’t care to know.”
“What matters is that you are her mother. She needs her mother.”
The words were rough and wild. How could he seem to feel nothing and everything all at once? She couldn’t understand this man, and she’d believed once that she did.
Because she could turn him on? Because they’d shared sex and passion?
It was such an innocent thing to believe.
She’d had all his intensity focused on her in the bedroom and she’d believed it had given her the key to knowing him.
But it was a darkness that ran deep, and she couldn’t see the bottom of it. A terrifying void that drove him, that haunted him.
He seemed cold and unfeeling, and yet it was more.
He burned.
But the flames were black.
“And the jailer?” she asked. “Standing in place of a father?”
“It isn’t like that.”
“Isn’t it?”
“I will protect her. I will protect you.” The promise was guttural, honest. Of all the things he’d said, she knew this was honest.
But he was missing the truth of it.
He had the power to hurt them both. More than any other person on earth.
“From everything but yourself?”
“I did not ask for this.”
“Oh, you didn’t ask to be a father? You just had sex with me without a condom.”
He growled. “I did not ask for this thing between us.”
This thing.
This passion.
It tortured him, she could see it. He didn’t lie. And it hurt her. To know that the most beautiful thing she’d ever felt had been anathema to him all this time.
“What a victim desiring me has made you,” she spat. “I cannot imagine how difficult it is.” He took another step toward her, and her traitorous body responded. To the beautifully sculpted lines of his nude form. Everything in her wanted to launch herself at him. Scratch his face, and then kiss him. Hurt him, and then make love to him.
She shuddered. In repulsion. But not at him, at herself. At what he had made her. For he had changed her, at her very core. Her very foundation, and she had believed it had been for the best, but it had not been.
He had turned her into his creature, and she hated that girl.
