Kassiani stood rooted to the spot, feeling sick and sad and dangerously close to shouting something at his retreating back, something that would bring him back but only create more tension. But at least he’d come back to her.
She wanted him with her.
She wanted him.
She loved him.
Kassiani pursued him, catching up with him as he was entering a handsome sophisticated office at the end of the corridor. His windows overlooked the water and a pristine garden dominated by a fountain.
He glanced at her as she closed the door behind him, one black eyebrow lifting. “Yes?”
“I think we should have your mother join us for dinner tonight, and if not tonight, then tomorrow. I know she’d like it—”
“You don’t know her.”
“But I should, shouldn’t I?” She saw his expression tighten and she hurriedly added, “I don’t have a mother anymore. I haven’t had a mother since I was fifteen. I’d like to have your mother part of our lives—”
“She wouldn’t understand our lives. She wouldn’t appreciate the...extravagance.”
“Maybe not, but shouldn’t we at least give her the option? Why decide for her?”
He crossed the pale marble floor. “Obviously you don’t trust me because you question every decision I make.”
“I just want to be part of the decision making—”
“That’s not going to happen.”
“But if we’re friends—”
“Maybe we’re not friends.”
“Damen!”
His powerful shoulder rolled. “Or maybe we are, as I’m going to give you the truth. I broke my mother’s heart many years ago, and I hurt others many years ago, and I’m not going to let that happen again. End of story.”
Kassiani held her breath, wishing his words didn’t bruise her. Maybe they wouldn’t bruise if she didn’t care so much about him. For the first time in forever, Kassiani wished she was Elexis, because Elexis wouldn’t care about Damen’s past or any hurt he’d suffered. No, she’d simply be grateful for his wealth. She’d love the freedom Damen gave her. She would be able to party and shop and travel, perfectly content with an absentee husband, a man who came to her only when he had a physical need. An itch to scratch.
Kassiani’s lips pursed in distaste. She didn’t love Damen because he was rich. She loved him because he’d become hers. He, even with his hard edges, was her person. Her man. Her husband. And she wanted her husband to want her, and love her, the way she loved him.
“I respect that,” she said carefully, “and since we are friends, I’m going to ask that you at least take time to consider my request. Maybe you don’t need a relationship with your mother anymore, but maybe I do.” And then she left the room before the conversation took a turn for the worse.
Damen exhaled as the door closed behind Kassiani.
He couldn’t do this. He shouldn’t have brought her here. Why he’d given in to her requests he didn’t know, because it was a mistake having her here on Adras.
A mistake meeting his mother.
There was too much water under the bridge. Too much had happened, things that couldn’t be undone.
Even if he could forgive himself, he couldn’t forget. He shouldn’t forget. And so he wouldn’t forgive himself, either.
* * *
Kassiani paced her room hot and agitated. It wasn’t until she caught a glimmer of the sparkling pool from her bedroom window that she realized an afternoon swim might help clear her head and calm her agitation.
The pool did feel wonderful, too. It was heated, but still refreshing, and it soothed her just floating on her back, soaking in the sun, letting her worries go.
Everything would be fine.
She needed to be patient.
She needed to keep fighting for Damen and their relationship. He was worth it. They were worth it.
A shadow stretched over the pool, blocking her sunlight. Opening her eyes, she saw Damen standing at the side of the pool. He’d changed from earlier, and was now wearing a dark suit with a white dress shirt.
She swam to the side of the pool and lifted a hand to shield her eyes. “Where are you going?”
“Back to Athens.”
Her heart lurched. “Now?”
“Soon. I’m having your things packed. They’ve left dry clothes for you on your bed.”
Her pulse drummed. Her stomach turned inside out. “Why are we leaving now? We only just got here.”
“It was a mistake to bring you here.”
“No—”
“You know I am not a fan of the past. I have done everything in my power to close the door on the past. I only brought you to Adras so you can see where I was born and raised, and you have seen where I was born, you have seen my childhood home, microscopic as it is. You have met my mother. And now we return to Athens so I can get back to work.”
“And our honeymoon?” she asked.
“I can’t do this anymore. It’s not useful. It’s counterproductive—”
“I thought we would have fourteen days together.” She swam to the steps and rose from the pool, crossing the deck to retrieve her towel and wrap it around her. “You had promised Elexis fourteen days.”
“That was Elexis, not you. I promised you nothing. You are not even supposed to be my wife.”
She flinched. “Why do you have to fight dirty? It’s ugly, and so unfair.”
“Why do you have to probe and dig? Why can’t you be happy with what I tell you? I have given you more of me than I have given any other woman—”
“Except Aida.”
He stiffened, and paled, his gray eyes glittering against his sudden pallor. “What did you say?”
She swallowed hard. “Aida,” she said more softly.
“What do you know of her? Who told you her name?”
“Your mother.”
His lips compressed. Lines etched whitely at the corner of his mouth. “I should have never brought you here. I shouldn’t have trusted either of you.”
“She is your mother.”
“Yes, and I am her son and I have paid all the debts I owe her. I have given everything to provide for her. She owns my first fourteen years. She cannot have my future.”
“She said you weren’t always like this. She said something has made you cold.”
“You’re making this up.”
“I’m not. She said I should ask you about Aida—”
“Stop saying her name.”
“Was she your girlfriend? Your lover?”
He made a hoarse sound and took a step away, turning his back on her. “You know nothing about anything—”
“Then tell me so I know something!” She went to him and put her hand on his back. “Damen, please talk to me.”
“I cannot speak of it. I won’t.”
“But maybe if you spoke of it, I could help.”
“No one can help. It is in the past. I won’t go there. I won’t open that door.”