 
### The Wager

### Alea Rose
Copyright 2015 Alea Rose, Smashwords Edition. All rights reserved. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are fictional or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or paper print, without written permission from Alea Rose.

### Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 1

Her job was simple. Get in, money up front, fuck like the client wanted, get out. Nothing more to it than that. There weren't any bloody emotional scenes, no mind games, just the client's pleasure—and hopefully, repeat business.

Haley had spent years trying to convince herself that's how she really felt. Just a job. Most of her clients didn't care if she got off or not—so long as they did. And truthfully, she preferred sexual frustration. It made it easier to sustain that _come fuck me_ aura between appointments—and showers. It also made her feel a little less filthy at the end of the day, more like someone who worked at a job she hated rather than someone who was paid handsomely to receive as much pleasure as she gave.

Tonight would be no different. He'd come, pay and then really come.

It was a good gig most of the time. Sure there were some freaks out there with fetishes that did nothing for her but cause a chill or the lingering sense of disgust, and in those instances, the handy tube of lube was a life saver.

Haley had few rules though, where the kinks were concerned. One, no blood sport. Two, no real violence. If I guy needed to spank her—within reason—to get his rocks off, that was fine. But no bondage. Nothing that prevented her from leaving if the scene got too weird.

There was an insurance policy in place if that day ever came. Haley recorded everything—without the client's knowledge. And why shouldn't she? If the cops had to come clean up a messy crime scene, she'd have the last laugh.

One other rule? No glove, no love.

Well, so to speak. Because love didn't enter into Haley's equation. She was college educated after all, a biology major. _Love_ was about hormones and neurotransmitters. All that was required for a sexual appointment in her house of sin was cash and testosterone—or estrogen.

Yeah, a few of her clients were women. Did it bother her swinging both ways?

She forced herself to believe it didn't. In truth, her women clients were the easiest to please. Most were trapped in relationships with men who wouldn't give more than sixty-eight. _You do me, and I'll owe you one_. Only the lady's turn never rolled around.

Her high class clientele—while not offering an insurance policy in the kink department—did tend to have her discreet business cards passed in all the right circles.

Tonight, she was restless. The client had promised a cool hard five grand. The catch was, he kept her for the full night.

No, this wasn't some ridiculous pretty woman scenario thing either. Her clients might be rich, might be kinky, might value discretion above all else, but they were more obsessed with image than even orgasm. If she weren't so well whispered as being the HIPAA of whores, she wouldn't be doing so well.

The doorbell startled her out of her skin and her restless thoughts. Wearing her hedonistic disguise, the armor that showed everything while it hid her true self, she glided to the door donned only a see through sheath and fir trimmed six inch stilettos. She pinched her cheeks, made sure the lipstick was perfect in the mirror by the door and swung it open.

_Shit_.

Rather than hide her wares that were already bought and paid for, Haley pasted an unapologetic grin on her lips to hide her terror. "Well, you certainly can't be my date. Is there something I can do for you, officer?"

A hand appeared from beyond the doorway, shoving the uniformed officer into Haley's space. "I sure as fuck hope you can help him," a deep baritone intoned. "Because I'm sick and tired of my ex calling me, begging for _me_ to teach this knucklehead how to properly eat her out."

The youngster in the uniform couldn't have been more than twenty-five, twenty-six tops. Haley eyed him warily.

"Relax," the other man stepped into her view. "He knows that sexual surrogates are _licensed_ and completely legal."

Haley relaxed a bit, the fear of a blatant sting operation drifting away as chilled air from the late autumn night that regularly invaded the hallways of the apartment building hardened her nipples. Usually, this get up at the door put a tent pole in the pants of any man seeing her.

Officer Limp-Dick didn't even show a twitch of interest.

And then she noticed the man speaking to her. Good lord! Her breath caught in her throat. He was almost the caricature of tall, dark and handsome. She felt her pulse quicken, an uncharacteristic tingle ripple through her body as she surveyed the man ill-concealed under the expensive suit that wasn't designed to hide his assets at all.

Haley drew in a deep breath and stepped away from the door. "Do come in gentlemen, and let's... at least discuss the problem."

"You can call him Joe," the suit said with a distracted smile.

Haley grunted softly. _Alias it is, then_.

"But I've got balls. I'm Damien DeMarcus."

Haley felt her eyes widen just a bit, and at the knowing gleam in his eyes, she wiped the astonishment from her perfectly made up face. Maybe he wasn't as attractive as she first thought.

"I see you've heard of me, Ms. Khram, as I have heard of you."

Damien DeMarcus was only the most well known shark in the city—literally. Of course what was whispered and what could be proven were two different things. How the hell had his ex-wife gotten involved with a cop? She shrugged off the dichotomy of a woman attracted to a gangster swinging to the far opposite end of the spectrum to a cop.

"I'm not sure you understand how this works, Mr. DeMarcus. For me to help your... friend...?"

He scowled.

"Your ex's husband?" she amended.

"Forget the relationship for the time being," a wolf's grin made an appearance with two rows of perfectly straight, white teeth. "I just want to know if you can teach him to eat pussy like a man's man."

"Yes, well, as I was explaining, what might be pleasing to one woman won't do for another," she said. "In order for this to be successful, I'd need to coach both partners—"

"Fuck that," DeMarcus muttered. "I'm gonna show him how to do it on you. Believe me, I spent five years making that woman come buckets, and he just needs to watch one and then do one."

Haley's nervous smile stretched thin. Crude man, proof again that money couldn't buy everything. "And you think this technique would be effective on any woman? I promise you, sir, we're all unique."

"Doesn't matter if you get off or not—isn't that what they say about you, honey?"

He didn't wait for an answer, just took an aggressive step forward and hauled Haley up over his shoulder. "Come on then, _Joe_ , and let me show you how it's done."

Rather than protest, Haley focused on the five grand this bonehead paid up front. Yeah, for that, she could play flesh and blood blow up doll so the pup could learn to pleasure his woman. And she'd take extreme satisfaction when it was all over with by telling DeMarcus that his technique was sorely lacking, she faked the whole thing.

He surprised her when he gently lowered her to the plush carpeting an gazed into her eyes. "Didn't hurt, frighten or alarm you with the caveman routine, did I? It's just that junior here called off his shift, and the little woman doesn't know he's out learning the ropes instead of hunting bad guys like me tonight."

"I've agreed to more domination on occasion," Haley felt herself relax for a moment.

"Good to know." And just that quickly, he shifted his attention to Joe.

"So she's nearly naked. And for the purposes of expediency, we'll say that you've done all the make-out, tit nibbling foreplay."

"Oh no," Haley demurred. "If Joe's getting a lesson, and I'm supposed to show him how fabulous your technique is above all others that even _I've_ experienced, we're going to have to have the full compliment of foreplay, Mr. DeMarcus. After all, who's to say it's not all the foreplay that put the ex in such an orgasmically primed mood?"

His jaw flexed lightly. "Right. And I didn't expect this to be a quick job, so I suppose I shouldn't rush. But I'm warning you right now, Ms. Khram. You will likely be so sensitive by the time I'm done with you that no amount of coaxing from Joe's tongue will make you come again."

She struggled not to roll her eyes, but reminded him, "Yes, so you say, but you must've suspected something like this would happen, or you wouldn't have paid for five sessions tonight instead of simply one."

Damien bent, brushed his lips over the shell of her ear and murmured, "Well, yes, but I figured it might take him that long just to coax a single orgasm out of you, whereas my foreplay will _eat_ ... considerably into our allotted time tonight."

This time, she didn't bother suppressing the snort. Haley felt the wicked grin spread over his face. Hot breath fanned her ear and neck.

"Would you like to make a wager on it?" DeMarcus purred.

"How much?" she asked.

"That deliciously ridiculous fee you demanded for the whole night," he said softly. "I make a lot of money, Ms. Khram, but I'm not in the habit of throwing it away."

"You want to bet me five thousand dollars that you can make me have an orgasm in an hour?" she laughed softly. "I have clients who can get me off in less than three minutes." She neglected to add, _if I allow it._

He pulled away and shook his head slowly. "The bet is, I give you an orgasm that renders it impossible for you to even _think_ about letting that kid tongue your juicy pussy for even five seconds, let alone play with it for hours trying to duplicate my performance."

"And whose to say I won't just fake it so when you stop, I'm merely primed for your boy in blue?"

Damien's grin sent a chill to her bones. "Believe me. You fake it, I'll know."

He was so damned cock sure of himself, Haley had a hard time resisting the bet. "And if you lose?" she asked.

"Add two zeros to what I've already paid you."

She froze. "You'd pay me five hundred thousand dollars if you can't make me not only come, but be unable to orgasm again within five hours?" It was a sucker's wager—he, a sucker for making it, she one if she refused it.

"I must warn you though."

"Yes, I believe you've emphasized how very, _very_ good you are."

"Not to boast, but there are women who haven't been able to orgasm with another man after I've fucked them. But you won't suffer that problem, since I'm only going to focus on tonguing your pussy tonight."

Haley slithered out of her robe and struck a provocative pose. "You're on." If she lost, she'd be out five grand. But if she won, she could let her pussy have a nice long rest, maybe move up the date for her vaginoplasty to tighten the moneymaker up just a bit, as one of her viciously crude _former_ clients suggested.

"On the bed. Spread your legs," Damien instructed.

Oh, this was going to be so easy, she thought. The guy had all the finesse of a high school quarterback under the bleachers after homecoming. The handsome clients who thought they were God's gift were the easiest of all jobs. She was completely turned off, despite her initial attraction. Yes, Damien DeMarcus was about to learn a huge lesson in putting his money where his mouth was.

"Get over here, junior and watch how this is done."

Haley watched the young cop inch to the side of the bed while Damien crawled slowly between her legs. A finger tickled from her navel to the outer lips of her sex.

"Now if you'll notice, Ms. Khram here isn't the least bit aroused yet. Women aren't like we are. They don't get hard seeing a naked body. Open your pants and let her see how hard your cock is, just from looking at her tight body and perky tits."

Her eyes followed the fingers that fumbled over the zipper, slipped it down. Flesh sprang out of the opening, hard, the tip almost pulsating already at the sight of her body. As she stared, a bead of moisture pearled at the tip. Her hand reached out, swiped it and smeared it over her clit.

The boy shot his load instantly.

Damian laughed. "You think tasting his come's gonna slow me down at all, Ms. Khram? I assure you, it won't. In fact..." his tongue lapped up her torso to the thin strands of fluid boy toy shot onto her chest. He slurped it off. "I've always found eating another man's come to be an incredible aphrodisiac, but you're not accustomed to me in monster fuck mode, so it's probably good that I didn't make him fill you up _before_ I make you come."

Haley laughed. "You think I haven't played the cuckold game with my clients before, Damien? I assure you, I have. In fact... well, you'll see. It's your money after all, and if you want to shove a giant wad of it up my snatch, who am I to argue?"

He caught one of her tits between his teeth and bit—hard. Haley ignored it, settled deep into that place in her head where none of the stimulus performed on her body touched her.

Damien went to work. She listened for about five minutes as he gave the young cop an advanced tutorial on the female genitalia, including the much touted, dubiously present _g-spot_. All it really was, was a pressure point between the vaginal wall and the woman's bladder. It made her feel like she had to pee, a sensation she'd never found particularly erotic. Haley's education helped her understand that a woman's orgasm was primarily an external process, achieved by clitoral stimulation and little else.

This character thought he was some sort of pussy Svengali, but he was about to learn a very painful—and expensive lesson.

She felt his fingers separate the lips of her sex, his warm breath cascade over the sensitive flesh before his tongue started teasing everywhere but her clit. Ok. So that was his game with women. Every where _but_ where it counted. She supposed with some, it would amp up the anticipation to unimaginable levels, so when he finally did settle in for a slow, hard tongue rub, they'd fly apart at the seams.

Haley thought about how sweet it would be to earn in one session what it normally would take a few years to amass. She could take a year off it she felt like it. Maybe explore her sexual side without a business end attached to it.

Yeah. That might be fun for a change. A date. The anticipation of a first kiss instead of an exchange of money and the guarantee of an orgasm.

Damien was goin' to town on her pussy now, a finger sliding in and out of her sheath, then two or three. It didn't really matter. She was numb to all of it. All she saw in her mind's eye was the finish line.

She lay there, unresponsive to all of it, eyes open, watching the cop get aroused again at the sight of a man between her legs, finger banging her while his tongue worked too fast, too sure of success to ever be erotic. Little shit was gonna learn a lesson from his mentor all right. Don't make bets with a whore who doesn't get off on anything.

After an hour, Damien, hair damp with sweat, rose up to his elbows. He frowned at Haley. He'd used ever trick he had, and still, the only moisture between her thighs was his saliva.

"I'll be goddamned," he said. "Have you been watching all this time?"

"Uh, yeah. Your boy here had two more orgasms while you were trying to give me one. Would you like to lick it off me? I mean, maybe you could use the aphrodisiac right about now. You're looking a bit wilted, Mr. DeMarcus."

Damien eyed his ex's current lover. "If you really want to get Jessica off, Joe, dress her up like a little girl and make her call you daddy. She's into some twisted shit, and her biggest fantasy of all time is being fucked by her father. Hell if I know if they really used to do it, but it drives her wild. Also, if you growl in her ear to be quiet so her mommy doesn't hear? She'll come so hard you'd swear she's gonna crush your dick. Now get out."

"But we have hours left, and I thought you said I could try out what I've learned on her after you've finished."

Damien peered down at Haley. It took her up to that moment to notice how tight the bulge in his suit pants had grown.

"Change of plans," he said. "It would appear that I've lost one bet, and now I've got precious little time to win a little bit of it back. I find an audience isn't helping me out much tonight. Get out. Now."

Something akin to unease unfurled in her belly when the cop left. She reminded herself that if this gangster got rough with her, or, God forbid, simply killed her to get out of paying the half million he promised if he lost the bet—which by his own admission, he had—it would all be on tape. He wouldn't get away with it, and the police department would have the satisfaction of getting one very bad guy off the streets once and for all.

"You don't have to be afraid of me, you know." His finger tapped her cheek lightly as he stared down at her. "I don't welsh on my bets, Ms. Khram And while it might sting to lose such a large chunk of change, I believe my original fee does cover the rest of the night. I wasn't kidding. I plan to earn back every fucking cent I've lost—minus the five grand."

"I think you should just go," she said. "I won't hold you to that crazy wager anyway, because the cards were stacked against you Mr. DeMarcus."

"Kind of like how they favor the house in my casinos, eh?" he chuckled. "No deal. I lost. Now we renegotiate."

"I'm not interested in continuing this session. In fact, you may leave now, and I'll refund forty-five hundred for the rest of the night."

"No deal, Haley," he spoke her name softly for the first time, rather than just using the pseudonym Ms. Khram, from her business cards. "I owe you an orgasm, promised it in fact, and money or not, I'm not leaving here until I've made you come harder than you've ever come before."

"I've released you from that ridiculous wager," she said. "Don't make me call your police pal back here and have you forcibly removed, Mr. DeMarcus. Please... just go."

The sound of silk whispered over her skin, but wasn't enough to conceal teeth grinding in frustration.

"Ms. Khram, I'm not sure you understand my situation completely," DeMarcus said as he watched her dress. "It isn't simply the money."

"I understand full well that it's a matter of ego, sir, but if you run in the right circles, enough to garner my business card at least, you should also know that I never divulge—"

Damien ground his hips against her ass. "I don't give a goddamn if you tell the whole world that I couldn't make you come. That's not the problem at the moment, Ms. Khram. No, it's your impeccable reputation for never leaving a client unsatisfied that troubles me. I am _distinctly_ unsatisfied."

A slow flush rose to her cheeks. "I... well, I presumed that since the point of this session was for _Joe_ that it was his satisfaction I guaranteed, sir."

"And I didn't anticipate getting turned on by how sweet you taste. It's really quite extraordinary, Ms. Khram." He paused, nipped lightly at her neck. "For five grand, I think I should at least get _something_ out of the deal."

"I thought you had. I doubt your ex will be calling you for help with her current husband again."

His laugh, soft but so unamused, made Haley's skin prickle. "She'll keep calling me, regardless," he said. "And she isn't Joe's wife, nor was she ever mine. I don't _do_ marriage, Ms. Khram. I suppose you and I have a great deal in common in that regard."

Haley's breath hitched in her throat. "Why do you make assumptions like that? Do you think I'll be in this business for the rest of my life?"

Hands slithered inside her silk robe and palmed her bare breasts. Damien flicked at her nipples lightly with his thumbs. "Do you want to be married? Settle down, ruin this perfect body with stretch marks and cellulite? Pardon me, my dear, but you don't strike me as soccer mom material. On the other hand, I could easily see you achieving _MILF_ status with horny teenaged boys."

Her body responded, but she clamped down on the groan in her throat.

"You like that idea? Young, nubile boys—"

Haley's arousal evaporated.

"Guess not," he grinned. "Are you going to make me guess what I did that got these luscious breasts so excited?"

She twisted easily away from his hold and dropped to her knees. "Will this satisfy our contract, Mr. DeMarcus?" Her fingers deftly unzipped his fly, as she positioned herself in front of him.

"You're not going to let me win any part of that wager back, are you?"

Haley's tongue lashed once over the bulbous head of his erection. "There was no bet as far as I'm concerned. It was unfair of me to take advantage of you like that. No one can give me an orgasm unless I allow it."

"Sounds like a challenge, not a confession," DeMarcus murmured before a gasp fell from his lips. "Good God, woman!"

Haley couldn't confess, not the absolute truth. She was a professional. What happened in this room was about money, and the pleasure of the one leasing her body for that purpose. It was simple business really, and it could never be anything more. Sure, there were times when a natural response occurred, when Haley'd been off her game and hadn't detached from the experience. But those days were long ago.

Her preference was this, to render DeMarcus limp and sated before shooing him off. Of course she'd refund all but an hour of the outrageous fee he'd paid for the entire night. She was a professional after all. Besides, word getting out that she financially exploited a client would be ruinous.

In the moment before his orgasm hit, the urgent hair-pulling she endured, Haley had no idea that ruining her business was exactly what this tryst with DeMarcus could do—whether she held up her end of the bargain or not.

Chapter 2

Haley waved from her table at _La Pomme d'Or_ to her only friend in the world—who just happened to be her oldest friend as well. Delia had known Haley her whole life, before the world of prostitution devoured her.

She believed Haley deserved more, and frequently reminded her of such. "Your parents, God rest, would die if they knew what had become of you," Delia always started serious conversations as such. "They'd ask what happened to their innocent little girl."

Of course Delia felt that way. She used to change Haley's diapers when she was a baby, kissed away the pain from more bumps and bruises than her mother ever dreamed of doing and was the only person Haley let into her real life on any level.

She hobbled across the room, letting her cane bear part of her weight. Ever since the fall and hip fracture two years ago, Delia had a limp and a weaker left leg. Haley had paid for a better surgeon than Medicare would cover. Only the best for her Nana.

"Well," she huffed as she slid into the chair next to Haley's, "what mischief have you found this time, my dear girl?"

Haley grinned. "What makes you think I asked you to lunch because I'm in trouble?"

"Because you always bring me to this specific restaurant when things are serious, or something is wrong. From the very first time we met here, the day you told me of your new _business_ venture, to the last time, when you were being stalked by one of your overly admiring clients—"

"Nana, how many times do I have to tell you? It was a misunderstanding. He simply needed a little more coaching, that's all, and when I understood he wanted his girlfriend to be present..."

Delia clamped both hands over her ears. "I prefer not to hear the details, darling. I still think you should've contacted the police."

Haley muttered, "They could've had two arrests for the price of one."

"Exactly," Delia said. "You shouldn't be doing this, darling. Surely there must be better opportunities for you. You've got a college degree for heaven's sake!"

"Nana, this isn't why I asked you to meet me here. The matter of my professional business isn't open for discussion. I asked you to meet me because tomorrow is your birthday, and I thought perhaps we might go away together. Just for a weekend. We could go to a bed and breakfast, some quaint little place up the coast, maybe on Martha's Vineyard."

"As lovely as that sounds, I'm afraid I'm not up for much travel these days. I got a bit of disturbing news from my orthopedic physician this morning."

Haley's eyes widened. "But I paid for the best surgeon in the city to repair your hip, Nana!"

"Yes, and he's proving his worth. You paid for the best mind, but apparently that guarantee didn't apply to the hardware. Mine is defective, has been recalled as a matter of fact." She raised one hand forestalling any argument or commentary. "I'm already a recipient of settlement funds, Haley. Dr. Mathman saw to that personally. Not a dime of my surgery will come out of my pocket—or yours."

"When are they doing the surgery? Why didn't you tell me you were having more problems?"

Delia sighed. "It hasn't been any better or worse for months, darling. I simply saw no need to upset you when I received the letter from Dr. Mathman's office. From there, it was a simple phone call to arrange my appointment this morning. He's made room for me in his busy schedule for this Friday, you see. So my mobility issues aside, I shall be in no state for weekend travel. Though the notion of taking you away from your dreadful life for a weekend appeals to me more than you know."

"I'll be waiting when you wake up," Haley promised. "Nothing matters more to me than you do, Nana. _Nothing_."

"It warms my heart to hear you say that, Haley. Now that we've discussed my woes, what really prompted you to ask me to lunch here?"

Before Haley could open her mouth to respond, a deep voice intoned softly over her left shoulder. A hand brushed the golden brown hair from her neck. Lips pressed gently into her cheek.

Nana's eyes widened while Haley's heart sank.

"Haley, I had no idea you'd be dining here today," DeMarcus said. "And who is your lovely companion?"

She bristled. "Mr. DeMarcus, this is a private conversation—"

Nana gasped. "DeMarcus?"

Haley's eyes slid shut. _God give me strength for the coming inquisition_.

"Yes. I'm a friend of Haley's. And you are?"

"Delia Trenton," she said coolly. "And while I'd never disparage my dear one's taste in friends, I do know who you are sir, and I know my Haley well enough to know to realize when someone's presence isn't welcome. Yours sir, most assuredly is—"

"Nana, please. If you'll give me a moment, I'll speak to Mr. DeMarcus privately and then we can resume our lunch."

Damien's hand remained on Haley's shoulder, his thumb swishing lightly against the nape of her neck. "Nonsense. I was simply surprised to see you here, Haley, thought I'd say hello. It was never my intention to interrupt lunch with Nana."

Before Damien was completely out of earshot, the waiter arrived.

"I've lost my appetite!" Delia burst out. "Haley, how could you? Of all people, that _man_!"

"Nana it isn't what you think," she hissed before turning to the waiter and ordering quickly for both of them.

"This is why you called me—to tell me that Damien DeMarcus is one of your _clients_ now? Oh Haley, I raised you better than this."

"He's not... it isn't what you think, Nana. I gave a single consultation to the man, for a friend of his if you must know the truth."

"Then why did he kiss you? Why did he let everyone in this restaurant see that he has enough intimacy with you to _kiss you in public_?"

Haley sighed. "It's complicated."

"But he's the reason we're here, isn't he? Admit it. You're terrified that one of your little business cards ended up in this man's hands, and now he's got some kind of hold on you. He's going to be your pimp, isn't he?"

"Keep your voice down," Haley hissed. Still, Delia was as perceptive as ever. She may not have realized on a conscious level that calling Nana to meet her at this specific restaurant was because of her troubling encounter with DeMarcus, but in truth, it was.

Her bank called that morning, to tell her that the sum of five hundred thousand dollars had been deposited into her account. She wasn't sure which fact was more disturbing: that DeMarcus kept his end of their ridiculous wager or that he could make sure the money simply appeared in her bank account.

Of course, she didn't plan to broach the subject with Nana quite as directly. She sure had no intention of naming names. Now, in light of Nana's anger, she couldn't possibly broach the subject at all. She couldn't give the only mother she'd ever known a stroke. What if the stress of knowing that DeMarcus probably _did_ think his deposit into her bank account was some sort of symbol of ownership killed Nana on the operating table?

Haley shook her head firmly. "Nana, it's nothing. I swear. I only wanted to bring you here to hopefully surprise you for your birthday." Her eyes fluttered lightly. "I really did want the two of us to go away for the weekend."

The harsh expression on Delia's face melted away into tenderness. "I'm so sorry my dear child," the old woman said. "It's just that I worry so about you."

"I know, Nana." A new plan formulated in Haley's mind. If DeMarcus was so intent on honoring his lost wager, she'd take advantage. She had enough to retire from the business even without that money. Without the overhead of the apartment downtown, Haley had very little debt at all—just what it cost to maintain the modest little home she owned in a sleepy and very respectable suburb.

"Would you like the other surprise now, since I can't give it to you while we're away for a pleasant and relaxing weekend?" Haley cocked her head to one side and smiled.

"Haley, how many times must I tell you that I don't need you to buy expensive things for me? All I've ever wanted—"

"I'm leaving the business, Nana," she said softly. "That's what I wanted to tell you this weekend. I'm done. There's no reason for me to continue. I can live a comfortable life on the money I've saved and devote myself to a... well a respectable profession if I get bored with retirement."

Nana's eyes welled with tears. "Do you promise me?" she whispered.

Haley nodded, but behind Delia, she couldn't miss the rapt interest of Damien DeMarcus as he watched her closely from across the restaurant from the bar. She should give the money back, that's what. And it was exactly what she planned to do—the moment she got home from her lunch with Nana.

*~ *~ *~*~*

She closed the door to the picturesque yet modest bungalow that Haley called home and sighed heavily. Unable to wait until she got home to undo DeMarcus' deposit into her bank account, Haley had contacted the institution on her way home. It was a done deal—even though it left her in a significantly more vulnerable position financially. Haley didn't care. She didn't want that life anymore. Odd, that all it had taken was one truly dangerous client to make her stop.

The buzzer at the door hummed.

Haley stiffened, hoping it was the mailman with a package or something equally innocuous. She flung the door open.

DeMarcus glared down at her.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he growled.

"I—I'm sure I don't know what you mean. Are you following me Mr. DeMarcus? How did you know where to find me this afternoon?"

He snorted and pushed past her into the house. Eyes devoured the room, the softness and femininity of Haley's true style unhidden behind the façade of her profession.

Haley's hand clutched her throat. How the hell would she get rid of him? She wasn't about to invite him into her home, yet here he was—in true DeMarcus fashion, just bulldozing his way past any obstacle in his path.

He spun around quickly. "So this is the real Haley," he said softly. "I'd have never guessed it."

"What makes you think this is any more real than my condo?" she demanded. "Maybe that's the real me, and this is the place where Nana gets to believe her little fantasy about—"

Damien pressed one long finger over her lips. "Don't lie to me, Haley. Anything but lies."

She twisted away from the light touch. "Is that supposed to be funny? You're the master of living a lie."

"No, I'm very honest," DeMarcus said. "I make no bones about who I am or what I do."

"Then you should be in jail," she muttered.

He grinned. "Should I? Whatever for? My games aren't rigged, but everyone knows the odds favor the house. I've never killed anyone. I've never even assaulted anyone."

"Personally," she said under her breath.

"Or otherwise," DeMarcus raked one hand through his hair in frustration. "I'm angry right now. Seems you've refused to let me make good on our bet, so I find myself in the very unenviable position of making another one."

"Save yourself the frustration," Haley said. "I'm out of the business."

His lips split wide with a smirk. "Since when?"

"Lunchtime," she said. "My... Delia isn't well. I promised her I'd give up the business immediately."

Damien frowned. "And the income? How will you survive without it? Granted, I was surprised that you've saved as much money as you have, but will that be enough to support both of you for the rest of your life?"

Haley sucked in a hissing breath. "How dare you invade my privacy this way!"

He shook his head. "It's not what you think. None of this is..." DeMarcus broke off the tirade on a sigh. "Fine. I like it that you're not working in _the business_ anymore. In fact, I'm thrilled," he added after a brief pause. "You weren't just lying to placate Nana were you?"

"I may lie to everyone else in the world," she said, spine stiff, "but I do not lie to Nana. She's the only... well, the only person who I can say without a doubt is my friend."

DeMarcus stepped close. "I want you, Haley. I want you so much, I can hardly stand it. Take the money. If you don't, I'll keep coming back until you either agree to take me to your bed again or want me as much as I want you."

She laughed softly. "No. Please leave. I'll warn you one last time, Mr. DeMarcus. Stay away from me, or I'll call the police. My assurance that I don't kiss and tell should be enough for you. Your reputation as a ladies man is not in danger."

"I'll tell everyone myself," he snarled. "Do you think I give a damn if everyone knows I couldn't get you off? I don't. The only person that matters to me is you. Your reputation... never leaving a client unsatisfied—"

"Tell them the truth about that too," she interrupted. "I am no longer _helping_ people with their sexual intimacy issues. I don't care if you tell them you left my apartment frustrated, Mr. DeMarcus."

He yanked her into his arms. "I didn't leave unsatisfied sexually," he whispered. "In fact, I've been hard ever since I got back to my penthouse, just remembering your mouth on me, your tongue lashing the head of my cock."

Damien ground his hips against her taut lower belly. "Feel that? I'm aching for you right now, Haley. But what frustrated me was that you felt nothing. I gave it my best shot, and you felt _nothing_."

Her cheeks flushed, not with embarrassment over his confession, but with the memory she absolutely would not share with him or anybody else. He said one thing, did one thing that got to her, that could've made him win their ridiculous wager after all.

"Please," DeMarcus continued. "Give me another hour, Haley. I want you that much. Name your price."

The kernel of desire that had sprouted with the memory of that moment wherein DeMarcus actually reached past her wall of separation, withered and died. "I'm out of the business, sir. However, I do know a couple of girls. I can make a referral if you'd—"

Damien's mouth settled over hers, quickly, but without force. It was all finesse, soft lips gliding over hers, nibbling, using gentle persuasion to entice her to open to him. Instead of taking advantage, Damien pulled back a fraction and waited for her eyes to flutter open.

"I'm not interested in _a couple of girls_ ," he said with quiet vehemence. "You, Haley... you're the only one I want. So we either come to another agreement for your time, or you'll simply have to keep moving to avoid me. I'm not giving up."

Haley swallowed thickly and nodded. "So be it."

His arms tightened around her. "Where's the bedroom?"

She wiggled free. "I meant, I guess I'll have to keep moving. I promised Nana I was through with... selling myself. I won't break that promise. You can't buy me, Mr. DeMarcus, so I guess you'll have to keep stalking me, throwing away good money tracking me down, only to hear the same answer again and again."

"Then come to bed with me not because I'm paying you, but because I simply want you."

Haley slowly shook her head. "No. Now that my body isn't for sale, I'm really not interested in sex, Mr. DeMarcus. Not with you."

His eyes narrowed. "But with someone else?"

A faint smile hinted at the corners of her lips, and Haley shrugged. "I suppose I'll know when I meet him, won't I?"

"I'm used to getting what I want, Haley," he said softly. "And clearly you have no idea how much I want you right now."

Haley's gaze fluttered away. "I don't doubt that you want me _right now_ , Mr. DeMarcus. You're not the first man to ever tell me that... or first _person_. But maybe that's not what I'm looking for anymore."

His finger brushed lightly down her cheek, across her jaw and over her full lower lip. "Tell me what you want. I'll give it to you."

Haley sighed. "Normal," she said. "That's all I want for the rest of my life. Just normal."

"You're too extraordinary to ever be normal," he said. "Don't you see?"

"You're just enamored because I ... well, I was very good at my former profession. You don't even know me, Mr. DeMarcus. And not to be offensive, but what I know about you already doesn't really motivate me to learn more."

"How unfortunate," he murmured. "I'd imagine that men who might know your professional reputation might say the same thing to you now that you're out of the business, but I know that what you did isn't who you are. I just wish you'd give me the same courtesy."

"But what you do _is_ who you are. You're not leaving... well, what it is you're known for doing."

"Running a resort and casino," he said tersely. "And in case you've forgotten, it's perfectly legal in this state. Have I extended credit to people who didn't follow through and pay their debts? Yes. And I was perfectly justified in recouping those funds—with legally enforceable interest—just like a bank would do."

"And you've never crossed any lines with anyone you _loaned_ money to?" she asked.

"I never ordered any harm to anyone, Haley. I can't help what the gossipmongers say about me any more than you can control what they say about you. And yes, people _do_ talk about you behind your back. You think your name is known in all the right circles, that your clients are more circumspect than they are. And I'm telling you that the word on the street is that Haley Templeton is little more than a high priced whore."

Haley flinched—not only because he knew her real name, but because his blunt words were probably the very things that Nana heard that depressed her so much.

She watched the anger arc between his eyes at her unfair judgment of him. Tears welled in hers.

"Don't," he said harshly. "Don't you dare start crying. You knew what you were getting yourself into before you ever started your _business_ , and you know who and what you really are. So don't start weeping when I point out the hypocrisy of your judgment of me, Haley. I get it. I'm not good enough even for a high class whore. Message received. I won't bother you again."

Haley's hand rested on his arm as he jerked the front door open. Damien froze, glared at her fingers.

"I'm sorry," she said softly. "You're right. I shouldn't have judged you when I have behaved far worse than I'm sure you have."

She choked back a sob.

His eyes rose quickly. "Haley—"

Her hand slipped from his arm, fingers brushing the tears from her cheeks. "No, don't say anything else. You were honest with me, and for that I thank you. Perhaps I've been hasty, considering retirement after I've already ruined my life. I don't deserve anything... more."

Haley held the door open for him and watched hesitation flicker in his eyes. "It's all right. I understand," she said. "Goodbye, Mr. DeMarcus."

Chapter 3

Damien held a snifter of cognac in one hand as he stared out the glass wall of his penthouse above the casino. Two days had passed since his fateful meeting with Haley Templeton, and despite the anger he felt over her rejection of him on moral grounds, her apology—and her tears—haunted him.

Todd approached. "I've got the information you requested, Mr. DeMarcus."

Finally, something dragged his eyes away from the view of the bustling nightlife below. Damien turned. He put the snifter down and accepted the file folder. "And?" he asked.

"She broke the lease on her apartment in the high rise, sir. Cost her a pretty penny too. She had to buy her way out of another nine months."

"Did you talk to the owner of the building?"

Todd nodded. "He was agreeable to your terms sir, and to keeping your name out of his change of heart regarding the refund of her money."

"She can't afford to squander forty-five thousand dollars like that," Damien said.

"Sir, if you don't mind me asking, why does any of this matter to you? Or are you trying to entice her into your uh... hospitality service?"

Damien glared at him. "Don't ever talk about her that way, dammit. Not if you value your job, Todd. Ms. Templeton is no common _escort_. In fact, if you knew half what you think you know, you'd understand that she did the best she could to provide for herself and her nanny, Mrs. Trenton, and that's the only reason she ended up doing what she _used_ to do. She wants out, and I intend to see that there is absolutely no financial burden on her whatsoever. I don't want anything forcing her back into that ugly world."

"But she returned your money," Todd said.

"Yes, because despite her former profession, Ms. Templeton is quite moral."

Todd scoffed, but didn't follow the snort with a verbal confirmation of his dissent. After all, DeMarcus' glare put him in his place before he could do something stupid.

"Have you ever heard of Geoffrey and Clarissa Templeton?" Damien asked.

His bodyguard frowned. "Names ring a bell. Wasn't Geoffrey Templeton some sort of heir? Shipping tycoon father..."

"Yes," Damien said bitterly. "He had no skills himself, other than being a playboy, and consequently, he and his equally vapid wife managed to piss away a two billion dollar fortune that would've left their neglected daughter and the only mother she'd ever really known, set for life. Unfortunately, after losing the lion's share of that trust fund through foolhardy investments and an obscenely lavish lifestyle, he and his wife died in a tragic incident. Yacht in the Mediterranean," he added.

"What sort of incident?"

"Piracy," Damien said. "They boarded the yacht and tried to hold the Templetons for ransom."

"Shit," Todd muttered. "There wasn't any money left?"

"Not enough to meet the demands of their captors," Damien said. "Haley was fifteen, in boarding school—prepaid by a trust her grandfather established thank God—when her parents were unceremoniously fed to the fishes. She still had Mrs. Trenton to look after her, but neither one of them knew that the money was completely gone. Not until the will was read, and everyone learned that all the properties Templeton owned had to be sold off to cover his debts." He balled one fist and plowed it into the palm of his other hand.

_Christ!_ No wonder Haley hated him. He was no different than the other bastards that demanded their slice of what remained of the Templeton fortune and left her penniless, after all.

"Haley went to college, got a degree in biology," he continued. "But when she couldn't get a job without a slew of alphabet soup behind her name, and had no money to continue her education, she began a very shrewd business of her own. In just a couple of years, she's racked up an impressive bank account. Yet it won't last a lifetime, and I'm concerned about what she'll do when she realizes that."

"What difference does it make if she hangs another shingle again and starts taking on clients? From what I've learned, her business didn't make a dent in your profits, Mr. DeMarcus."

"Perhaps this is my single philanthropic deed for my life," he said softly. "Would it be so terribly out of character if I made sure this young woman can do what she wishes with her life rather than acting out of desperation?"

"She's at the hospital with her nanny," Todd said. "She's having some kind of surgery first thing in the morning."

Damien's eyebrows rose in alarm. "Elective?"

"No, I learned that she's having another hip replacement surgery, sir, part of the class action suit against the hardware manufacturer. Ms. Templeton won't have a bill at the end of this."

Damien relaxed a bit. "Good. Anything else I need to know?"

"The pit boss downstairs —"

"I meant about Haley," he interrupted. "I'll deal with the casino later."

"Uh, no, Mr. DeMarcus. That's all I have to report about Ms. Templeton."

"Let Samson know I'll be down on the floor in about an hour," Damien said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

He picked up the cognac again and resumed his watch over the city. Since he met Haley Templeton, little else had occupied his thoughts. He played over every moment they shared together a hundred times.

She wanted more... but more what? Obviously, she wanted more than empty sex. That was perfectly clear with the ease that she gave up a profession where she'd not only excelled but built an impressive clientele of repeat customers. He knew she'd contacted every last one of them, based on the increased volume of calls to the escort service he allowed to operate out of his hotel casino, not that they actually provided the sex services Haley had.

Part of him was thrilled that he'd been her last customer. The other part lamented her rejection out of hand that they continue the relationship in some form.

Her words haunted him. _I don't deserve anything...more._

But she wanted it. He couldn't forget that unguarded moment where something he'd done had elicited arousal from her. But what was it?

Damien slumped onto the plush sofa in his great room and sighed. Her words weren't the only thing haunting him. He couldn't forget her sweet taste, or the scent that wasn't perfume, but more intoxicating than anything he'd ever encountered. His skin still burned where he'd touched her, where she'd touched him.

Guilt plagued him too. After she sanctimoniously rejected him, he'd eviscerated her—in anger, not because he believed what he said. But the words had torn her apart. Her tears had decimated his fury. He fought the urge to pull her into his arms and apologize, to soothe the tears away and make her forget what he'd said.

She didn't want him anyway.

And then she apologized...before telling him goodbye.

"Dammit," Damien cursed. He clenched the crystal snifter in his fist so hard that it shattered and sliced through the flesh of his soft, fleshy hand. He stared at the blood gushing from the jagged cut, dissociated from the pain as sticky warmth ran down his arm while he held the hand in front of his face watching in detached fascination.

"Shit! Boss, you're bleeding!"

"So I am," he replied blandly. "What are you doing back in here, Todd? I thought I told you to speak to Samson."

"I did, sir. You've been up here for more than two hours. I'll call for a car. You're going to need to get that hand stitched up."

Damien nodded blankly, still feeling nothing at all. His thoughts returned to Haley. Was that how she coped with her former profession? Did she simply shut down and feel nothing?

How sad if that's what she meant when she said no one could give her an orgasm unless she allowed it. So what happened that night that made her respond to me? I'd been working my tongue numb trying to get her to respond, but she didn't. Not until I was behind her with my hands on her...

Damien gasped. "Oh God."

"Feeling it now?" Todd held out a towel, and then wrapped it around Damien's hand when he ignored the makeshift field dressing.

"It wasn't what I did. It was what I said... Jesus... I think I know what she wants," he murmured.

"Yeah, yeah, that's great. Teddy's downstairs with the car. Let's get you over to the hospital before you bleed to death. God knows, you've probably lost too much blood as it is."

Damien snapped out of his reflection in an instant. "Hospital!"

"Uh huh. On account of you bleeding like a stuck pig. Let's go."

"Which hospital is Haley's nana in?"

Todd sighed. "Mercy. I take it you prefer to get stitched up there?"

He nodded and rose. "Let's go. While they're looking at this little scratch, I want you to find out what room Delia Trenton is in. Got it?"

"Sure boss, whatever you say."

As it happened, Damien needed treatment for more than a little scratch. Fifteen stitches, a bulky bandage and a prescription for pain killers later, and he was ready to go find Haley and her nana again.

"Seventh floor. Room forty six," Todd said. "But Mr. D., I don't think this is such a good idea. I doubt the lady will be terribly happy to see you right now."

"What? Why not?"

"Didn't you just hear the overhead page?"

Damien frowned. "Sure. Someone announced a code blue. What is it? Missing baby boy?"

"Cardiac arrest," Todd said. "My sister's a nurse," offered by way of explanation for how he understood hospital codes.

"And?"

"It's room seven forty-six," Todd said.

"Oh hell!" Damien took off running for the elevator. "Go back to the casino with Teddy," he called over his shoulder.

"What about you? How will you get back, and what do I tell Samson?"

Damien dashed into the open elevator and spun around. "I can take a cab if I need to, and Samson should be able to handle the pit. It's why he makes the big bucks."

The elevator chimed, and the doors slid open on the seventh floor. People were dashing about, and he caught a glimpse of Haley pacing across the hallway in front of her Nana's room. She was ghostly white, save for the red-rimmed eyes that gave her a ghoulish appearance.

Damien didn't hesitate. He stalked through the corridor. She must've seen him out of the corner of her eye, because she skidded to a halt and did a double-take. Her eyes brimmed with another emotion besides fear—until she saw the bulky bandage on his left hand. Her eyes widened, filled with tears that quickly streaked down her cheeks.

He swiftly closed the space separating them and drew her gently into his arms. "I was in the emergency department when I heard. I'm so sorry, Haley. You have to believe that she'll pull through."

"I'm so scared. She's all I have in the world, Damien. Nana is everything to me."

Her tears quickly soaked his crisp, yet bloodied white shirt. He didn't care, just held her close and murmured words of support while she wept. Finally, Damien managed to move her carefully down the hall away from where the efforts of the resuscitation team didn't sound very promising. A small nook was illuminated with dim lighting and hosted plush seating.

Damien pulled her down to one of the small love seats and peered into her anguished face. "What happened?"

She shrugged. "We were talking, arguing actually—"

Damien flinched.

"About whether I should spend the night with her here or go home," she said softly. "And all of a sudden, she said she felt strange... and she lost consciousness. I ran to the nurse's station, and everyone came right away."

She paused for a moment before tenderly lifting Damien's left hand. "What happened? Are you all right?"

"I cut myself on a broken glass," he said.

Haley winced. "Stitches?"

"It'll be fine," he said. "I wasn't sure if you'd be angry if I came up here, but when I found out it was your Nana, I had to make sure you weren't alone. Is there anything I can do for you? Do you need me to call someone to be with you?"

"I don't have anyone other than Nana," she whispered.

Damien thumbed the tears from her cheeks. "For what it's worth, you've got me now," he said softly. "No strings, Haley."

"That's very kind, Mr. DeMarcus, but I know you're a busy man. You must have better things to do than hold the hand of a virtual stranger," she said quietly. Her eyes drifted away until Damien's fingers gripped her jaw and gently dragged her gaze back to him.

"A stranger? Maybe we don't know each other well, but I suspect we've been more honest in the short time we've known each other than we are with most people, Haley. And please don't start calling me Mr. DeMarcus again."

She started crying again, and Damien pulled her close. He tilted her head against his chest and tried to comfort her while the clock on the wall ticked off minutes slowly. Why hadn't someone come to talk to Haley yet? It was creeping up on an hour since he came upstairs now. Shouldn't they be finished?

As if his questions had willed an appearance, a man wearing deep blue scrubs appeared in the waiting area. Damien tensed when he saw the anguished look on the man's face. His heart sank.

"Ms. Templeton?" the man said.

Haley pulled away from the tear-soaked chest that had pillowed her while she cried. One look into this man's eyes, and she nearly collapsed. "Oh no! Please, Dr. Mathman... don't tell me she's gone. Anything but that!"

Damien's arms tightened around her.

Dr. Mathman inched closer and squatted down in front of them. "Ms. Templeton, I'm so sorry. We worked on your mother for nearly an hour. We got her heart working again for a short time, but she went back into arrest. Unfortunately, sometimes these things happen. An irregular rhythm can be very difficult to treat. We used all of the medications at our disposal, but it simply wasn't enough."

"Did she regain consciousness?" Damien asked.

"No," Dr. Mathman said. "She wasn't aware of what happened at all."

"So... so she didn't suffer?" Haley whispered.

Damien watched Mathman's gaze change from the cool professional trying to be sympathetic into something else. His proprietary instincts welled from deep in his gut—surprising him that he could feel so territorial over a woman he _had_ just met. His arm tightened just a bit more around Haley.

"I don't think she did, no, Ms. Templeton," Mathman said. "Is there anything we can do for you? Would you like to see her before...before we follow her final wishes?"

Haley cringed and burrowed a little closer to Damien. She looked up at him, beseechingly. "I...I don't know. Damien?"

"I think perhaps we should wait until she looks more like Nana again," he said softly. "Do you know where she wanted her arrangements fulfilled?"

Haley nodded. "It's on her chart."

"Tell me who, and I'll take care of everything," Damien said. "I think right now, it's best to get you home."

"If you come with me," Mathman said coldly, "I can get the information for you, Mr. DeMarcus."

Damien suppressed the glare that flickered for a moment in his eyes. Haley gripped his arm in a panic, drawing his attention away from the doctor and back to her. "What is it, honey?" he asked quietly.

"Don't leave me," she whispered.

"I won't. Let's go with the doctor. He'll give me what I want, and I'll take you home. Don't worry. You won't be alone." Damien helped her rise, and cast another withering glare at Dr. Mathman. "Sir?"

"Right," he didn't bother hiding the censure he obviously felt. "Follow me. I'll have one of the nurses copy the information from Mrs. Trenton's chart."

He made a cursory glance over the forms the nurse gave him. Damien pulled a business card from his wallet and handed it to her. "Give this to them when they come to retrieve Mrs. Trenton," he said. "Have them call me. I'll take care of everything."

"Damien, no," Haley whispered.

"Shh. Let's get you home," he said. "You need to rest now."

She buried her face in her hands and began sobbing again.

Damien pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed quickly. "It's me. I need a car back at the hospital immediately. Send Teddy."

He stuffed it back in his pocket and wrapped one arm around Haley's shoulders. "Haley, if you want to see her before they take her away, tell me now," he said.

"Would you?" she asked.

The nurse was shaking her head no rapidly, not even bothering to hide the gesture from Damien.

"Honestly," he said, "I'd wait until they've taken her, honey. We'll need to go to her house and get things for them. Tomorrow perhaps?"

"Yes," she whispered. "I—I'm not sure what she wanted to wear."

"Did she have a will, any estate planning?" he asked.

"Nana had nothing after... well, after she made the biggest mistake of her life and went to work for my parents when I was born," she said bitterly.

Damien steered her away from the desk. "I mean had she made any advance arrangements in the event of her death."

"She wasn't _that_ old!" Haley gasped.

"Age has nothing to do with it, sweetheart," he said. "I'm only thirty-eight and I've preplanned my... well, I've made arrangements."

Her eyes widened in horror. "Why? Why would you do something like that? Are you telling me that you _expect_ to die young?"

"Of course not," Damien said as he punched the button to call for the elevator. "It's just something people do so that there's less burden on those they leave behind, that's all."

"Oh," Haley murmured. "My... my parents never did that."

He seethed silently, suspecting that people as selfish as Geoffrey and Clarissa Templeton wouldn't consider the feelings of those left behind when they died.

"What?" she frowned, gazing up at him intently.

Damien schooled the disgust on his face and forced a smile. "Nothing, honey. I called my driver. He'll be meeting us downstairs and will drive you anywhere you wish to go," he said.

Haley curled in on herself. "I... I don't know what to do."

"Do you want to go home?" he asked.

"I'm afraid."

"Of being home?"

Haley shook her head. "Being alone."

"I can stay with you, if you like," he suggested gently.

"No... I can't impose on you that way, Mr. DeMarcus. You've done more than I deserve already."

"Nonsense."

"You're a busy man. I understand. I wouldn't feel right about taking you away from your business."

"Haley, you're not taking me away from anything." He waved his bandaged hand in front of her. "I'm going to be somewhat out of commission for the next ten days anyway, thanks to my careless stupidity."

"I really can't ask you to rearrange your life to accommodate me," she said. "The ride home will be enough. I'll... I'll manage somehow."

"If that's what you really want," Damien said, "I won't force you to spend time with me. But you know, if you'd rather not be alone... and you're worried about taking me away from the business, you could always stay with me tonight." He added quickly, "I've got at least four guest rooms, Haley. It's no imposition at all."

"I should go home. I don't have anything—"

"Haley, there are four boutiques in the casino. I'm sure we can rustle up a change of clothes and a toothbrush for you. Let me do this. Let me show Nana that I'm not the bad guy she and everyone else thinks I am."

Haley's eyebrows scrunched together.

"She's your guardian angel now, honey," Damien said softly.

"Do you really believe that?" she asked.

He smiled. "My mother is an Irish Protestant and my father was an Italian Catholic. Of _course_ I believe it."

Haley nodded, sniffled and accepted the handkerchief that appeared instantly in front of her. "All right. I'll stay with you—but only for tonight."

"Let's concentrate on one day at a time, here," he said. Damien wound his arm around her shoulder again and hustled her out of the elevator. He could already see his car, and Teddy inside it, waiting for them in the drive outside the hospital emergency department.

Chapter 4

Haley watched him furtively, mostly numb to everything but the curiosity about the man firing off rapid orders on his smart phone in the back seat of the Cadillac beside her. Who was he talking to? Was it business... or something personal?

She cringed inwardly. What if her crisis had interrupted something important?

"Mr. DeMarcus, maybe you should just take me to my house."

"Stop calling me that," he said with a slight frown. "And I've already made arrangements for you at the casino. Caroline—she manages one of the boutiques and actually lives in one of the casino residences—is making arrangements for what you'll need tonight. I didn't know if you'd feel like eating anything, but I've also asked the chef from one of my restaurants to prepare something light for dinner. Housekeeping is making up one of the guestrooms in the penthouse. And I needed to let Mother know that I'm bringing a guest home."

"You live with your mother?" Haley's curiosity exploded.

"She lives with me," he smiled. "Minor point of distinction, my dear. Though I'm sure she'd love the world to believe it's the other way around."

"You mentioned your father in the past tense..."

"I did," Damien said. "My father died when I was a small boy. He had lung cancer. Smoked like a chimney for 34 of his 45 years."

"He started smoking when he was _eleven_?" she gasped.

DeMarcus nodded. "Which I'm sure will help you understand why my casino is the only one in town with a very strict no-smoking policy."

"I've never been there," she said while her vacant eyes drifted back toward the tinted windows. "I really wish you wouldn't go to all this trouble. You could loan me a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, Damien."

"We'll consider that as plan B if you don't like what Caroline sends up to the penthouse," he said.

Haley shivered, wondering with a bit of horror what this woman would send up for the city's most notorious whore. Tears filled her eyes again while regret nearly strangled the air from her lungs. Why had she ever done anything that Nana didn't approve of? And she'd really hate what was happening now.

She'd shared with Nana—briefly at least—her argument with Damien DeMarcus after he interrupted their lunch the other day. Nana had been quite adamant.

Surely you're smart enough not to fall for such a line of bull, Haley. I thought I raised you better than that.

But she hadn't defended Haley's lifestyle. Not at all. In fact, Nana cringed, patted her hand and said, "Well at least your dark chapter is in the past, Haley. This DeMarcus character won't give up his life of crime until he's either behind bars or six-feet under. Either would be a just outcome for his crimes, I'm sure."

Nana wasn't even in her grave yet, and was probably already spinning. _Oh Haley, how could you be so weak and needy to accept an offer of help from this man—of all the people you know in the city?_

Haley tried in vain to clamp down on her guilty conscience, but trying to do so only made her cry harder and feel worse.

He couldn't understand the conflicting emotions trampling her heart, and Haley knew it, especially when he unbuckled his seatbelt and slid across the car and wrapped his arms around her.

"I'm so sorry, Haley. I wish I could tell you that I understand how you feel, but I've still got my mother."

She hiccupped softly. "And I lost mine long ago, but Nana was the only real one I ever truly had."

The car slowed, and the silence in the car was punctuated by the soft click of the turn signal. Teddy drove into the bowels of the parking garage, through a card-only gate, and parked next to an elevator.

"We're here," Damien said.

"I don't want anyone to see me here," she whispered. "I don't want your reputation damaged for being in my company. It's bad enough that Dr. Mathman knows we're acquainted."

Damien frowned. "I can assure you, Haley. If anyone's reputation was damaged by my presence with you tonight, it wasn't mine. But don't worry. This is my private garage, and the elevator is equally private. It'll deliver us inside my penthouse."

"Then no one will know that I'm here?"

"No one who would be so unkind as to mention it, Haley. My staff is very loyal to me, and my mother—"

She gasped. "I won't meet your mother, Damien! No!"

"All right," he murmured. "Just let me send her another text, and we'll get you inside and settled in your room for tonight. Okay?"

Haley watched as he quickly sent another text. The phone chimed with a response almost immediately. He scowled and replied in half a second.

"This is upsetting your mother, isn't it?"

"No," he said tersely. "No one is upset, Haley. Shall we go up stairs and get you settled in?"

"I should go home."

"Haley, you're afraid—and with good reason—of being alone tonight. My mother has a misconception. You see, she's accustomed to people believing the worst about me, and is afraid that your reluctance to meet her is because you're ashamed to accept help. She has no idea that you've lost your mother tonight. Please don't worry about her."

Damien ushered her into the elevator and used his key card to send them directly to the penthouse. Haley's eyes widened when the doors slid noiselessly open. She'd seen wealth in her lifetime. Usually it was the gauche opulence her parents confused with class.

This was simply breathtaking. Along the entire length of the great room was floor to ceiling glass. There were no overstuffed leather sofas, no bearskin rugs. Instead were tasteful pieces, somewhat minimalist, and beautiful artwork. Fabergé, Picasso, Monet, a vas that looked suspiciously Ming in origin. The room was decorated with varied shades of earth tones, very soothing and completely opposite the red-velvet den of sin Haley had recently envisioned.

Damien simply took her hand and led her through the large open space. Her eyes devoured all of it, from the understated yet tasteful dining table capable of seating more than a dozen to the warm and open kitchen area with natural hickory cabinets and stainless steel appliances. The accent of dark blue speckled granite was beautiful, turning the kitchen workspace into another form of art.

At the opposite end of the room was a wide staircase covered in plush off-white carpeting. The rail was intricately carved mahogany over wrought iron spindles.

"It's this way, Haley," Damien urged her up the stairs. "Your room is an en suite. You'll have private facilities. Caroline had a small wardrobe delivered before we arrived."

"How? You don't know my..."

"Size?" he smiled kindly. "If you're more than a two, I apologize in advance, Haley."

She felt his eyes rake over her critically.

"If you're a zero, we need to work on getting you up to at least a four. Preferably a six at your height."

"I don't think I could eat a cracker tonight, let alone gain three dress sizes," she said.

"Hmm," he frowned. "Then you're a zero?"

Haley nodded, felt an inexplicable pang of guilt. "I'm only staying one night. I can wear this home in the morning."

He didn't respond, just opened the double doors to one of his guest rooms. "The phone on the bed is only an intercom system, Haley. Press one if you need me for anything."

"You're...?"

"I assumed you might want to shower or have a bath," he said. "The whirlpool might help ease some of the tension. You're in knots, Haley. If I thought you'd agree, I'd offer to have someone come up from the spa to give you a massage."

"Thank you, but no," she said. "It's bad enough that as many people know I'm here already. I won't have you subject to gossip by bringing more people into this, Mr. DeMarcus."

"I'll be back in about an hour," he said. "And regardless, I'm coming with something for you to eat. Nana wouldn't want you losing your strength over this. Do you have a wine preference?"

Haley shook her head. "Anything white is fine, but—"

"No arguments. The wine will help you relax and stimulate your appetite. I'll see you in an hour. Caroline had the items she sent up placed in the closet," he said. "Please go try to relax in the bath. There should be oils, soaps, whatever you might want in the bathroom."

Haley dashed the tears from her eyes again. "I don't know why you're being so kind to me after how horribly I insulted you the last time we spoke. I—I don't know how I could ever thank you properly, Damien."

"Nonsense. You had a misperception of me, one that I suppose most of the city—at least those who don't know me—have. Let me show you the truth, Haley. I'm not the monster the world has made me out to be."

She stepped close and wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him tightly. "I know that already. Thank you so much for being here for me tonight, Damien. You have no idea how much I appreciate this."

Damien stepped out of the room and pulled the doors closed behind him. His mother's wide eyes were the first thing he saw.

"She doesn't think she's _good enough_ for you? Give me a break, Damien. And you really bought that?" she hissed.

"Ma, not now," Damien sighed.

She followed him down the corridor, down the stairs and into his office.

Damien ignored her and picked up the phone. "It's me. Sorry about earlier. Whatever the problem was, I trust you managed it?"

Samson chuckled, "Yeah, boss, I managed it. I caught one of the new employees marking cards for one of our high rollers at the blackjack table."

"Christ," Damien hissed. "Which high roller?"

"Fontaine. Again."

"If the bastard didn't lose five million a year here, I'd ban him for life. Who was the new employee?"

"Chuck Bates," Samson said. "Cops took him away about an hour ago. Of course Fontaine pled ignorance. I told him he could explain himself to you in the morning, but that it'd probably be a good idea if he stuck to the roulette tables for the rest of the night."

"I've got thirty minutes to spare right now. Send someone to find him and bring him to the penthouse. I'm not going to be available for the next few days for sure," Damien said. "I'd just as soon put the fear of God in that idiot now."

"Everything all right, boss?"

Damien sighed and dug the fingers of his bandaged hand through his hair. "No, everything isn't all right at all, Samson. It's a personal thing."

"The hand?"

He cursed under his breath. "Don't you guys have enough to do without gossiping about my accident prone tendencies?"

"Since when?" Samson snorted.

"It's a cut, not the end of the world. And for your information, a friend lost her mother tonight. She needs someone, and I intend to be there for her for as long as it takes to get her through this."

"Gee. Sorry," Samson muttered.

"Please have Todd Gates get Fontaine here soon, Samson."

He hung up the phone and stared at Siobhan. "Well, what is it, Mother? I'm sure you can see I've got my hands full at the moment."

"Who is this girl, and why do you believe that she doesn't think she's good enough for you?"

"You've been eavesdropping on my conversation since I picked up the phone, so I think it's pretty clear that she's a friend."

"Why have I never met her before?"

"She's a new friend."

Siobhan snorted and pushed her raven hair back over one shoulder. "You don't have friends, Damien. You have employees. You have people who try to get you indicted for crimes you didn't commit. And you have me."

"Haley is a new friend," he said quietly.

"A new friend—as opposed to your _old_ friend Jessica? Please don't tell me you've latched onto another escort, Damien."

"She's not," he hissed. "Do you remember Geoffrey Templeton?"

Siobhan's jaw dropped. "Of course I remember both he and his wife, Damien. They destroyed—"

"Yes, I know," he interrupted tersely. "They destroyed the shipping business that your father helped build. They drove him into the bottle and your brother to an early grave. Now imagine how much more desperately their selfish greed damaged their daughter."

Her eyes widened. " _That_ is Haley Templeton? But I heard you say her mother died tonight, and Clarissa died in the same event Geoffrey did!"

"Her nana died tonight, Ma, the woman who raised Haley and loved her like a mother _should_ love her child."

"And she knows about our link to her parents—that's why she doesn't think she's good enough for you?"

Damien gritted his teeth. "I'll not have you laying their sins at her feet, Mother. It's no more fair for you to do that than it is for people to assume that I'm just a chip off the block, the same kind of thug my father was."

"Except you didn't take a damned thing from him, Damien. You built your empire on your own."

"I played a lucky hand of poker when I was eighteen years old," he muttered. "The only thing that made me successful was going after people who owed the casino money and turning this place into a profitable enterprise. And mind you, it was men like me who made Haley a pauper when her parents' possessions were sold off to satisfy _their_ debts."

Siobhan nodded. "So it's guilt. Because you were one of those creditors."

"I didn't know who she was when I met her," Damien said quietly. "And when I found out, I assumed that was why she despised me so much. I'm not so sure anymore."

"Why is she here if she hates you?"

"Ma, it's complicated."

The chime at the door sounded.

"Please just behave. Respect my wishes and stay away from her. I only want to help her through a difficult time, nothing more than that."

"Because you feel guilty," Siobhan said. "If you forgave every deadbeat's debt, you'd be penniless too. And this still doesn't explain why she doesn't think she's good enough for you."

Damien glared at her. "She's done things to survive that she isn't proud of, Ma. Haven't we all? Just leave her alone."

Chapter 5

Damien eyed Victor Fontaine with only mild irritation. "Only two hundred thousand, Mr. Fontaine. We must've spotted your con early tonight."

"I have no idea what you're—"

"Save it," Damien glared him to silence. "This is your last warning, Victor. I catch you so much as making off with a bathrobe when you check out and you'll be banned from this casino for the rest of your life. I don't mind clients coming in and winning. I do mind them coming in and cheating to win. Next time, we won't have this discussion. You'll be banned—and the police will take over the investigation. Do I make myself clear?"

"Just trying to even the odds a bit, old friend," Fontaine smiled coldly. "After all, they do so strongly favor the house."

"No one puts a gun to your head and forces you to bet big, Victor."

The man eased into one of the chairs in front of Damien's desk. "What happened to your hand?"

"I cut myself with a broken glass."

Victor grinned. "You still owe me, you know. Without me, you'd have never gotten Ms. Khram's business card. Have you seen her yet?"

"Tried," Damien smiled tightly. "She's left the business, or so it would seem."

"No... she wouldn't!"

He shrugged. "Word has it, the condo is empty, and Ms. Khram is nowhere to be found."

"I'll be damned. I was one of her regular clients, you know. The woman could suck the chrome—"

"Yes, well be that as it may, she won't be doing that for you or any of her clients anymore. Or so rumor has it," he said tersely.

"Tell the truth. You scared her out of the business, didn't you? Big bad Damien DeMarcus. She probably figured you planned to make her one of your girls, be the pimp daddy."

Damien cleared his throat and rose. "Remember my warning, Fontaine. One more shenanigan, and you're out for good. I don't care how much you think this place needs your money. I need to send a message that this particular casino doesn't tolerate cheats. If you happen to become the designated messenger... so be it."

"Are you threatening me?" Fontaine sobered immediately, eyes wide with the recollection of the ugly rumors he'd heard about Damien.

"It's not a threat, _old friend_. It's a promise. Now go back downstairs and behave yourself—or, if you can't, just leave now and don't come back. I'll not have this conversation with you again." Damien glanced at his watch.

"Am I keeping you from something?" Fontaine asked.

"Dinner. I'm through with you. You may go now."

Fontaine bristled at the abrupt dismissal, but no matter how wealthy he was, he knew that the money he contributed annually to the DeMarcus casino was merely pocket change to someone like this vile man. He rose.

"I do apologize for the misunderstanding, Damien. I shall endeavor to resist future urges to... prank."

Damien fought the urge to take the stairs two at a time when he went up to check on Haley. It nagged him, ate a hole in the bottom of his stomach, thinking about all the men Haley had entertained—and women too, if the stories were to be believed. Of course they weren't nearly as widespread or talked about as he implied to Haley in anger, something he now deeply regretted.

He pressed his forehead against her bedroom door and sucked in a calming breath. His desire for her hadn't waned one little bit, but now wasn't the time to press his suit. "Just be there for her, DeMarcus," he whispered. "Let her figure out that you're not the devil everyone imagines."

Damien raised his fist and knocked lightly.

Silence.

"Haley?" he knocked again, harder this time.

Sound behind the mahogany made him expel the breath he didn't realize he was holding. Haley peeked through a crack in the door.

"Um...could I borrow a t-shirt and a pair of sweats, Damien? I'm not sure what your boutique manager was thinking, but I'm not really feeling up to silk negligees at the moment."

The image of her at the door of her condo the night he first met her flashed before his eyes. Damien didn't have visceral reactions to scantily clad women. If he did, he'd be in pain half the time. The show girls in the casino barely wore more than sparkling body paint and strategically placed feathers. Yet for some reason, the sight of Haley's beautiful body was burned into his brain.

"Uh... sure. I'll be right back."

It would be a hell of a lot safer anyway, seeing her in fleece and cotton than silk. He intended to see that she was well fed, relaxed and able to get a good night's sleep tonight, in spite of her terrible loss.

When he returned, her bedroom door was ajar.

"Haley?"

"I'm in the bathroom," she called out. "Just bring them to the door please."

He watched it crack open, and stuffed the t-shirt and sweatpants through the opening. "They're going to be huge on you," he said. "But there's a drawstring on the sweatpants. It might pull tight enough. I'm not sure."

A moment later, Haley stepped through the door, a towel swathed around her head, swimming in his clothing. Even though he couldn't make out a single line of her tight body, he responded just the same, stronger than he might've if she'd stepped through the door naked. She was wearing _his_ clothes, for God's sake!

Her hand flew to the towel on her head, and her eyes looked down at her bare feet. Damien's followed. He groaned. Her perfectly manicured toenails were delicate pink and peeking out from the rolled up legs of the sweatpants.

"Let me call downstairs and get something that'll fit you," he said.

Haley tugged at one of the long sleeves of the t-shirt. "Please don't. This is fine. Very comfortable." She shivered. "And it's nice and warm. I feel so cold."

Damien stalked across the room and adjusted the thermostat. "It'll warm up soon," he said. "Why don't we sit down? Dinner's not here yet. If you're cold, I think I know just the thing to help warm you up."

He made his way to a liquor cabinet in the sitting area of the suite and poured two-fingers of brandy into a glass. Damien sat beside her on the cozy sofa and handed her the drink.

Haley sipped, but continued to shiver. "I just can't seem to get warm."

Damien frowned. She was probably in shock—the sudden death of her nana the likely cause. He turned sideways on the sofa and opened his arms. "Come," he murmured. "What kind of host would I be if I let you freeze to death?"

Haley scooted between his thighs, her back to his chest and shivered so hard her teeth began to chatter.

His hands slid up and down her arms briskly. "The bath didn't help?"

Haley shrugged. "I'm not sure anything will ever help me. I never imagined that this would happen, Damien. She wasn't that old, you know. Only seventy. She was forty-six when I was born and she became my nanny."

"Why was she in the hospital? Did she have a heart condition?"

"Not that I knew of," Haley said. "A few years ago, she took a nasty spill and broke her hip. She had a replacement done of course, but never seemed to quite recover. Dr. Mathman notified her recently that the hardware was defective and needed to be replaced. That's why she was there. She was supposed to have hip surgery in the morning. She was supposed to be fine..."

Damien's arms curled around her waist and hugged her gently. "I'm so sorry. I wish I could change what happened tonight, Haley. I think I'd give anything if it would take away the pain you feel right now."

She turned to look up at him. The towel toppled off her head and curly, damp tendrils fell down around her shoulders. "Just being here, it means more than you know," she said.

Damien's breath caught in his chest. He brushed a few loose strands of hair from her forehead. "You should dry your hair. You'd probably be warmer."

Haley rested her head against his shoulder. "I don't want to move. I'd rather just sit here with you and drink this very expensive brandy and not think for awhile."

He reached for the damp towel and tossed it on the floor. "Then I'll stay right here. Although at some point, I'm going to have to get dinner."

"I can't eat," she whispered.

"You have to. You need your strength, Haley. Have you thought about what comes next?"

She shrugged again. "I guess I'll have to make arrangements for her funeral."

"I didn't mean that. I meant, what comes next for you. Your whole life is turned upside down. In part, I feel responsible for it. If I hadn't put money in your account—"

"No, Damien. Don't blame yourself. I know what you were trying to do. And honestly, even if you hadn't paid on that ridiculous wager, I wouldn't have held you to it anyway. Nana wanted me to stop. I decided when you came up to me in that restaurant that I was done. Hearing the truth...what people really think of me, well it only reinforced to me that I'd made the right decision."

He relaxed—noticeably.

Haley peered up at him again. "You agree with my decision?"

"Don't sound so surprised," he said. "You're too good for that kind of life, Haley. I've seen what happens to women who make a career earning money that way. It isn't pretty."

She sighed and two more tears leaked from her eyes. "Well, I've already ruined my life."

"Don't say that. It isn't true. When I said those things to you the other day, I was angry, Haley. I'm used to getting what I want, and rejection in any context never goes over well with me."

"What are you saying?" she asked softly.

"I know who you really are, but I'm pretty sure that nobody else does. I doubt anybody bothered to try to find you in the real world the way I did. When you basically threw my money back in my face, I felt..."

"Angry," she said softly.

"I made a wager, and I lost. The irony is, I see people make stupid bets downstairs all the time. It's how I make my living, insisting that they pay up. And I guess it bothered me, thinking that you thought you were too good to take my money. I'm sorry what I said hurt you," he said.

Icy fingers slipped between the fingers Damien held at her waist. "You're not at all who I thought you were," she said. "What a surprise you've been, Mr. DeMarcus."

His phone buzzed in his breast pocket against Haley's back.

"You should get that," she said.

"It's dinner," Damien said. "I asked the chef to send a text when it was ready. Think you can try to eat something now?"

"I'm really not—"

"Haley, you've got to eat something."

"I'll try, but if you could just bring something light up here. I really don't want to leave this room tonight."

"It's late. My mother's turned in for the night. You won't have to actually see anyone."

"You think I'm being ridiculous, don't you?"

"No, of course not," Damien said. "It's one thing if you don't feel up to being around complete strangers, honey. But if you think you're protecting me from this bad reputation I alluded to the other day, then it's my fault, not yours. Nobody knows who you were."

"Were..." she echoed softly. "I've been out of the business a few days, Damien. That hardly qualifies as past tense."

"Then you miss it?"

Haley shuddered. "No."

"Then yes, a few days qualifies as past tense. And really, you can't have been doing this for long."

She turned again and gazed up at him. "Do you know what I considered doing with the money from that wager we made?" she asked. Not waiting for a response, she continued. "I considered taking time off to um...well do some maintenance. I've been a whore for a very long time, and no amount of sweet wishful thinking will change reality. Leaving the _business_ as you say, doesn't erase the past. It doesn't undo what I'd become, and quite willingly. I was a good whore."

"Stop saying that," he growled.

Haley wilted a bit more. "Admit it, Damien. You were only interested in me because you wanted to renegotiate the wager and win your money back. To you, it was the bet. To me, it was the money. There's nothing pure or honorable in any of that. My life—such as its been—was governed by an ugly set of rules that I thought insulated me from the reality that I was nothing more than a high-priced whore. What was that old political slur? You can put lipstick on a pig, but it's still a pig."

"So if a man met you on the street, in a restaurant or some such, if he thought you were beautiful and intriguing and wanted to get to know you, would you still see yourself this way?"

"He'd run screaming when he learned the truth," Haley sighed. "That's the thing about having a sordid past. No matter how hard you run from it, it's always there, always with you, part of the person you made yourself become."

"And what if he doesn't care about your past? What then? He won't run because he sees the truth, the kind and sensitive woman hidden beneath a lifetime of pain. He sees your strength and intelligence. Would you still run away from him?"

"A few days ago, I didn't have a problem with what I was doing. I kept telling myself that I was helping people. I was giving them something they couldn't get anywhere else." She snorted softly. "The truth is, I'm just good in bed. I learned quickly that repeat business comes from giving the client exactly what he or she wants. Discretion was an illusion designed to protect all of us, but most of all, it was a lie I told myself so I could believe I could walk down the street and nobody would know who I really was behind closed doors."

"I don't believe that's who you really are behind closed doors, Haley." He paused for a moment. "I've seen your home, the _real_ home, the one that's filled with your personal touches and the things that none of your clients wants to imagine when they think of you."

"So you never wanted to imagine the woman you wanted to fuck crocheting doilies?"

"On the contrary," Damien said softly, "she's the woman who intrigues me in ways I've never known before."

Haley tensed and pulled away from his embrace. Her eyes focused on the floor. "If you want to bring something up, I suppose I could try to eat a little now."

Chapter 6

Damien bristled at the idea of just letting her withdraw and retreat from the world. "Well, I'm not bringing dinner up here, Haley. It's not doing you any good, this self-imposed exile. So if you feel like joining me for dinner, I'll be in the kitchen. It's up to you."

He rose and disappeared downstairs. Haley glanced at her watch. Almost eleven. If Nana hadn't...

The tears returned with a vengeance. "Nana, what would you do?" she whispered. On some level, she suspected that Nana would agree with DeMarcus—at least about cowering and hiding from the world. On the other, she knew that Delia Trenton would loathe the idea that Haley was given sound advice by a man she despised.

Why did she feel so strongly about him? Was it just the ugly rumors that swirled about the man and his alleged ties to organized crime? No. It was the stuff Nana thought Haley didn't know.

Haley snorted at the notion. She'd been to casinos in Las Vegas. Their owners weren't mobbed up criminals. One of them had even been a client of hers while in town visiting the competition—

The thought died in her head. "I'm the criminal here," she wept. "And if Nana hated him for things he'd never actually done, imagine how much more she must've despised me, knowing who I really am?"

The door to her room cracked open.

"You are crying," a woman's voice said. "My God, child. I'm so sorry for what you've been through tonight."

Haley gasped. A woman who appeared far too young to be Damien's mother stepped into the room and closed the door. "Siobhan DeMarcus," she said softly, "and yes, I'm Damien's mother. I was a _very_ young woman when I had him."

She frowned. "I didn't actually say that thought out loud, did I?"

Siobhan smiled tenderly. "No love, but I'm so used to the first words out of anyone's mouth being, _you can't possibly be his ma_ , that I try to nip it in the bud with the explanation." She took a tentative step closer. "Damien asked me to stay away from you, but I heard you crying in here, and I suppose I couldn't help myself."

Haley dashed the tears from her cheeks and sucked in an unsteady breath. "It's been a difficult evening."

"I'm sorry for your loss. Surely this seems like too much to bear. It's been what, six or seven years since you lost your parents?"

She blinked at Siobhan. "This is much worse," Haley admitted. "I didn't know my parents at all, you see. I only saw them once or twice a year for my entire life."

"Christmas and birthdays?" Siobhan smiled.

Haley frowned. "No, they were required by my boarding school to come for conferences twice a year. I was fifteen when they died, so it's been almost ten years. I still had Nana—even though she wasn't being paid to look after me anymore, so their loss was quite...abstract by comparison."

"Damien doesn't bring girls here," Siobhan said suddenly. "Naturally, my curiosity was stronger than my fear of his tirade if I came in here to meet you."

Haley recoiled. "His tirade?"

Siobhan chuckled. "He's got a bit of a temper, love, reserved unfortunately for me. Well, mostly because I'm the only person he's ever known who stands up to his nonsense and calls him on it." She waved one hand. "He's got some odd ideas about things sometimes."

"Odd in what way?" Haley asked, her curiosity pricked too now.

"Oh, just his ideas on gender roles mostly. For instance that Caroline that manages the boutiques."

"I thought she only managed one of them."

"Directly yes, but she oversees all of them in reality, the spa too—anything that Damien has deemed a woman's domain, Caroline manages it."

"So he's...sexist?"

Siobhan chuckled. "Not really. He's just a bit more traditional about things than most people would imagine. Which is why he never brings girls here." She eyed Haley shrewdly. "Which makes me incredibly curious about you, Haley Templeton."

"He's just an acquaintance, really, a very recent one. I'm afraid if you thought otherwise, you're mistaken, Mrs. DeMarcus. Your son simply felt sorry for me when by chance he happened to be in the hospital when my Nana died."

"Damien doesn't have a pitying bone in his body. If he brought you here, Ms. Templeton, you may be sure it's because for some reason, he feels he owes you something."

Haley flushed deep crimson.

Siobhan clapped her hands together. "That's it, isn't it? He made a bet and lost!"

"Mother!" Damien growled from the doorway.

"Oh, hello, son. Ms. Templeton's crying woke me. I thought I'd come make sure you hadn't done something to upset her."

He rolled his eyes. "I should've sent you to Ireland years ago instead of keeping you here."

"Bah," she scoffed. "Idle threats. He's good at those, Haley."

"Mother..."

"Sorry, darling, but it's true. If people knew how utterly soft you really are, they wouldn't tell such horrible lies about you all the time. But I know...it's better for business if people think they're dealing with Damien the Shark, not Damien the Nice Guy who Finishes Last."

"Haley, has this odious woman completely ruined your appetite?" he sighed, shaking his head and glaring at his mother.

"Ha! Like I could do that. Seems to me that Ms. Templeton doesn't have much of an appetite on a good day."

He grabbed her upper arm and dragged her out the door. "What the hell are you doing, Ma?"

"Being honest, darling. She's too thin, you see. And I know how much you favor girls with a little more curves—" she stopped abruptly, eyes narrowed. "Don't you dare look at me like you'd rather strangle or gag me right now than listen. This is what mothers do. We give our children a jolt when they need it, whether we're trying to shock them into behaving or telling the truth to get them to wake up and change the path they're on. Yes," she nodded. "That's exactly what a mother does. She will lie or exaggerate or even pretend disappointment, if that's what it takes to help her child."

Damien eyed her suspiciously, but Siobhan only smiled sweetly. "Well, if that's all, I think I'll leave you two to your dinner plans. Good night, Haley. It was delightful meeting you, I just wish that we'd met under happier circumstances."

He closed the door behind her and banged his head against the wood lightly. "God help me..."

"She's rather... unique," Haley said softly. "It's obvious that she loves you very much though."

"She's batshit insane."

"How much does she know?" Haley asked. "About me, I mean."

"I have no idea. She knew your father. A lot of people knew him."

"She mentioned it," Haley said softly. "In the course of expressing her condolences. You know, it's funny, but Nana used to say nearly the exact same thing to me—about being too thin."

Damien turned and held out his hand. "Then you shouldn't make her worry from the pearly gates that her girl is wasting away in grief. Chef Jean Paul has outdone himself with his version of light dinner."

"Oh?"

He nodded. "Lobster bisque, a dinner salad with the most mouthwatering vinaigrette I've ever tasted, grilled salmon on a bed of linguini with cilantro-lime marinara..."

"It sounds rather heavy for such a late meal. Surely you don't eat like that all the time. You'd be..."

"Overweight?"

Haley blushed. "At the very least."

"At least sample some of what Jean Paul sent up."

Haley nodded and took his hand. "I didn't mind, you know, that your mother came in my room. At first I thought she was here to be unkind to me."

"If anyone understands grief, it's Siobhan," he said grimly. "She's lost a lot of people she loves."

"Your father, though it's been some time since he passed if you were a small child."

"More than thirty years," Damien nodded. "Of course that was difficult for her, but she had the support of her family to get her through."

"A large family?"

"Not really," Damien escorted Haley into the kitchen and pulled out one of the bar stools from underneath the shiny granite. "She had a younger brother. He was seven or eight when I was born, so in a way, he was almost more like a son to her than a brother, more like a big brother to me than an uncle. My grandmother left my grandfather after Sean was born, so Siobhan had experience raising children before I came along when she was little more than a child herself."

"How old was she when she met your father and married him?"

"Eighteen," Damien said. "I came along a month before she turned nineteen, and my father was in an early grave by the time she was twenty-three. I suppose that's part of why she and Sean became even closer."

He slid two bowls of bisque across the bar and came around to sit beside her.

"I don't follow," Haley said.

"Ah, well, my Uncle Sean was the real entrepreneur in the family. He was on the cusp of saving a business that had been taken to the brink of bankruptcy you see, one his father helped build... would've been quite the coup, but the owner died, and Sean lost everything. He couldn't deal with what happened, and...well, he took a boat out during a storm. They never recovered his body."

"I'm so sorry," Haley whispered. "How long ago?"

"Creeping up on fifteen years, I guess. He'd done it before you see, saved companies from being bought out and broken into little bits. Fifteen thousand men and women lost their jobs when Sean failed. He blamed himself. Of course, he had no way of knowing that the creditors would swoop in like vultures and pick the estate to the bones."

Haley sipped one spoonful of bisque and pushed the bowl away. "That sounds a little too familiar to me."

"Sorry. Please don't let my sad tale from memory lane kill your appetite. I'm sure that thousands of people could relate to what happened to Sean—to you too for that matter."

"Nana hated the creditors that came after my parent's estate," Haley said. "She said the same thing about them, that they were heartless vultures, that they didn't care about the orphaned child who was essentially left penniless."

"But you weren't exactly without funds, were you?"

Haley nodded. "Essentially I was. My education fund was a trust my parents couldn't touch. My grandfather stipulated that it was only to cover boarding school and then college if I wanted to attend. If not, the bulk of the trust would be reabsorbed into the estate. After my parents died...well, I wasn't going to be groomed for the role of _wealthy heiress_ anymore, so I needed that education. Sometimes I wonder if my grandfather didn't see it coming—that my parents would squander away all he worked to achieve."

Damien slid the bowl back in front of her. "Ten bites more, and I promise I won't nag you to eat another drop."

She finished half the soup before glancing warily at Damien when he pushed a salad in front of her.

"Just taste it," he grinned. "The vinaigrette really is wonderful."

He was right. It was delicious, and Haley ate the whole thing. Damien smirked and unveiled the main course from beneath the silver lids covering their dinner.

"Oh, I couldn't eat another bite. I'm sorry, Damien. Your mother was right. On a good day, I haven't got much of an appetite."

He speared a morsel of salmon on his fork and dragged it through the creamy marinara. "Then just a taste. Jean Paul will want to know if he impressed with his skills." He held it to her lips until she opened and tasted it.

Haley chewed slowly, eyes fluttered shut and she moaned softly. "It's exquisite. Your chef is really very good, Damien."

He fed her more until she held up a hand in protest. Haley watched in silence as he finished his meal and washed it down with the last swallow from his wine glass.

"I've got a confession," he said. "Jean Paul sent all of my favorites tonight. I'm sure word spread through the staff like wildfire after I injured my hand and had to go to the hospital for stitches. He probably thinks that Todd insisted on hiring a physician to come tend to me tonight—just to make sure I don't pop a stitch and bleed to death."

For the first time that night, Haley smiled. "It sounds like your people love you very much."

Damien shrugged. "They're loyal, that's for sure. A bit defensive of me at times, but that's better than having daggers hanging from my back, isn't it?"

"I can't imagine that anyone who took five minutes to get to know you would think or speak ill of you, Damien. I'm so sorry for—"

He pressed a finger to her lips again. "No more apologies, Haley. I forgive you. Now...can you forgive me too?"

"For what?" she asked.

"The terrible things I said to you in anger."

"It was nothing Nana hadn't said in so many words before, Damien. You shouldn't have to apologize for telling the truth."

"She accused you of ruining your family name?" he asked, frowning.

Haley snorted softly. "Oh no, but she said that my goal of bringing any measure of respectability back to the Templeton name was gone because of what I was doing." She paused, deep in thought. "I didn't know my grandfather. He died when I was still a baby, you see. Nana said he was very...smitten with me, doted something terrible. She also said that she couldn't believe he had left everything to my father, because he knew that Geoffrey had no appreciation for hard work. My father was a playboy, you see, even though he was married to my mother. They both had their other pursuits, I suppose. Perhaps my occupation was in the blood."

"I don't believe that," Damien said. His index finger extended under her chin and tilted her face up until their eyes met. "I get the feeling that you're going to make a phenomenal mother one day if that's what you want, that your children will be cherished more than any fortune and know what it is to have the love of a mother."

Her lips parted as she drew in a sharp breath. "And you think that any man would want me as the mother of his children after what I've done?"

He tossed her earlier words back at her. "I think that if any man takes five minutes to get to know the real Haley, he'd fall hopelessly in love and want nothing more than to spend the rest of his life with you."

Chapter 7

Damien paused with her outside the guest room door. "Do you think you can sleep now?"

Haley shrugged. "I'm still afraid," she whispered.

"Of?"

"What happens when I wake up? Will all of this have been some terribly cruel nightmare, or is the real nightmare only beginning? I'm afraid to close my eyes. I'm afraid that all I'll see is my last memory of her—doctors beating on her chest and shocking her and putting a tube down her throat."

"I have some Ambien," Damien said. "I rarely use them—in fact they might be expired. But you've got to get some rest, Haley."

She nodded, and watched him slip across the hall. She crept forward and peeked into what she suspected was his bedroom.

It was—and a very masculine room too. Dark wood, navy drapes and bedding. The carpet was midnight blue with very faint gold swirling patterns in it. The bed was huge, and even from a distance, she estimated that it was about waist high on her—which was saying something since Haley was a bit above average height for a woman.

Damien appeared again, and she blushed at being caught peering into his private suite. He smiled and opened his hand. In the palm lay a little pink, oblong tablet.

"It doesn't look like much, but it's powerful. You should be asleep soon. And the prescription isn't outdated," he added with a lopsided grin.

Haley plucked the tablet from his hand and stared at it intently. "Would you..." her lips rolled inward.

"Would I what?"

"Nothing. Thank you, Damien."

He snagged her arm before she slipped across the hall. "Not nothing. Tell me what you wanted to ask."

"I'm being silly," she said.

"So be silly. Tell me what you wanted to ask me."

"I just wondered if you could... I mean, if you'd be willing to um...to stay with me until this pill does its thing."

"Of course," he said. "Come."

Damien led her back into the guest room and turned down the bed while Haley disappeared with her pill into the bathroom. He heard water running, the sound of teeth being brushed. It made him smile. Who would've thought after the first time he met her that a short six days later, she'd be standing in one of his bathrooms brushing her teeth, clad in his clothing?

Haley exited the bathroom with the sweats draped over one arm and her free hand tugging the t-shirt down lower over her bare thighs.

Damien swallowed thickly. "Christ, you're beautiful," he whispered.

She blushed at the compliment, he for blurting it out even in a whisper. Haley quickly climbed into the bed and covered her legs. It felt odd, being so suddenly overcome with shyness when she'd been parading her naked body in front of strangers on a regular basis for the past few years.

But this was different. In the condo, she had the ultimate control over what happened. In giving up that life, and subsequently losing Nana, it felt like all of her control had been nothing but an illusion anyway.

She snuggled into the bed and rolled to her side. "Thank you for doing this for me, Damien. I'm not sure how I would've gotten through tonight without you showing up when you did. At least I've had a few hours reprieve before I have to face what I need to do tomorrow."

Damien sat on the edge of the bed and peered down at her. "You know that you don't have to face tomorrow alone either, don't you Haley?"

She hesitated again, eyes darting away from his intense gaze.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Your mother said something earlier..."

Damien groaned and drew both legs onto the bed, back pressed against the headboard. "I'm wondering how it is I've lived with this woman for my entire life and haven't required intensive psychotherapy. What did she say to you?"

Haley giggled.

"You should laugh more often," he said. "Beautiful sound."

She sobered again. "Will you promise not to be angry with her if I tell you? It was probably a very legitimate observation from someone who knows you extremely well."

Damien smiled and made an X over his heart. "Spill it."

"She said that she figured you were helping me because you owed me something. Please tell me that all of this isn't about that crazy bet."

He scooted down and rolled to his side, facing her. "No, this isn't about the wager, Haley. I'd like to think that I'd be there for anyone who needed help."

She nodded. "Your mother implied that I'm not exactly your type."

Damien grinned. "Forgive me for saying this, but my mother still thinks of me as her second-grade son who had a crush on Susie Smith with the cherub cheeks and the jet black pigtails. I don't think she's ever going to let go of that image. And how would she know the first thing about my taste in women when she's never met a single girl I've ever dated?"

Haley shrugged, then looked incredibly unsure of herself. "So she didn't know your ex? How is that even possible?"

"She was an ex-lover, Haley, not an ex-wife. Jessica...well, let's just say I'm not sure either one of them would've survived an encounter with the other."

"What was she like? Other than the kinky stuff I heard you tell Joe."

Damien frowned. "Why are you curious about her, Haley? She's not part of my life anymore, not that she ever really _was_ part of it."

"I'm sorry."

He sighed. "She's beautiful, of course, used to having her pick of men. Ultimately, that's why I knew our association would never be more than sex, though I think she'd have loved a cut of my money. She's very tall, blonde, curvy—"

"So basically, she's what Siobhan said was your type," Haley murmured. "It made me wonder why you seemed so determined to have uh...another session with me. I might be a little above average in height, but I'm not blonde, nor am I curvy."

Damien's eyes darkened. "You seriously want to know why?"

Haley nodded. "I'm curious. I'd imagine that as wealthy as you are, you know a lot of the people who used to book time with me. Probably not something you want to dwell on though, considering my reputation."

"I know one of your clients. He happened to be around the last time Jessica called to harass me. Honestly, I think she was looking for a reason to dump Joe and come crawling back to me—or my money, I suppose. I may have vented a bit, and your client shared your business card. Though he suggested that I send Joe to you alone so you could _educate_ him."

"May I ask which client?"

He frowned. "Victor Fontaine."

Haley's eyes flared and breath hissed past her teeth. "That man was _not_ one of my clients, though I have a pretty good idea how he got one of my business cards."

"What did he do? How did he get your business card, Haley?"

"His father," she whispered.

"His _father_ was your client?" Damien couldn't school his shock if his life depended on it.

She nodded. "A lot of my clients were... older men, Damien. A few of them were wives of older men, like Jessica I suppose, married for money or prestige. They came to me for the same reasons their husbands did. To get off. Victor's father Edward was one of my longstanding clients. I met Vic only once—at a party his father had where I was invited, as sort of a favor to put me in contact with respectable and discreet people."

"He propositioned you?"

Haley shook her head. "Are you kidding? He accused me of being his father's mistress, a whore who was worse than Edward's much younger second wife. He accused me of robbing him of money that should've been part of his inheritance."

"Bastard," Damien muttered. As quickly as his anger rose, it was suppressed. "Did you like that part of the job? Being with women?"

Again, Haley shrugged. "It was a job, Damien. None of that was about my pleasure. And the less I felt, the easier it was to just be professional about it."

"It hit my ego pretty hard you know," he admitted, "that I couldn't make you come."

"There were only a couple who ever did," she confessed. "In the beginning before I realized how important it was that I not get caught up in the act."

"Men or women?"

Haley flushed. "One of each."

"An old guy and a young wife?"

"Neither of them was particularly old," she blushed. "He was late forties, she was my age, and confessed that she was actually very much into women, but that her family wanted her to marry this guy, so she did it."

"Were you still seeing her? Before you quit the business, I mean."

"No," Haley said. "She stopped booking appointments when I got better control. Once it wasn't mutual pleasure anymore, I guess I wasn't meeting her expectations."

"Can I ask how she did it?" he gave Haley another lopsided grin.

"It doesn't matter," she said. "The technique wasn't important once I learned how to shut all of that down. With men, it's easy. No offense, but you're ruled by that pleasure principle, and once the train builds up steam, it's just a matter of time."

"I'm very curious," he said. "Why won't you tell me?"

Haley's gaze grew distant. "Well, she was the first person who ever did that to me. That was probably a big part of it."

"The specific technique, or oral sex?"

Haley blushed again. "Oral sex."

"You weren't a virgin when you started doing this. Surely not," Damien frowned.

"Of course not. In fact, I was very good at it. The first guy ever...he told me I was a natural, sort of put the idea in my head to begin with. Turning it into a business. So like everything else in my life, I studied sex. I got even better at it."

"But what about the spontaneity? Getting caught up in the moment? Getting carried away by passion...you've never done that?"

"I guess. But that was dating, not work."

"When was the last time you had a date with a man...or a woman?"

"My sophomore year of college—and _never_. I'm not really bisexual even, Damien. I used to like men. I've never understood women well enough to like them in that way. Does that make sense?" she spoiled the question by a huge yawn.

Damien ignored the efficacy of the sleeping pill for a moment and pressed on. "How old are you, Haley?"

"Twenty-four."

"God, you're just a baby."

"With a very old, experienced body."

"Maybe in sex, but not the good part of sex."

When she frowned, he continued.

"The best part of sex is that connection that happens when you both share the pleasure, Haley. That's what makes it addictive. Or at least it should."

"In my experience, most of my clients weren't very satisfied with that connection. Their wives—or husbands—wouldn't do certain things, so they came to me."

"The light bondage you mentioned last weekend?" he asked.

Haley nodded and yawned again.

"I'd like to ask you another question, but I don't want to offend you," Damien said carefully. "Please give me permission, promise not to be angry, or tell me to mind my own business if you'd rather not answer."

"Okay..."

"Why didn't you do what some of these other women did? I mean, you could've married for money. You didn't have to sell your body—"

"I wanted something that belonged to _me_. Something I built myself, something that nobody could ever take away from me, Damien. I majored in biology in college for God's sake. What was I going to do with such a ridiculous degree? I had no more money to get a master's or a doctorate, and a bachelor's degree qualified me to teach high school or middle school and not much more."

"You earned a great deal of money in your business. If you're frugal, you shouldn't have any problem living off of it for a long time."

"I know," she said bitterly.

"Have you thought about going back to college?"

Haley sighed. "I'm too old."

Damien laughed. "You're twenty-four. Hardly ancient."

"So what, sink a couple hundred thousand into more degrees without any guarantee of gainful employment that would make up that lost money? No thanks. I'd rather just...remain frugal."

"You could've been frugal for quite some time with the money from our wager," he said softly. "And honey, you did win that bet, fair and square. In fact, I'd say you served me a very large slice of humble pie in the process."

Haley chuckled. "Well, that wasn't part of the bet."

"No, I was supposed to render you incapable of having another orgasm for the rest of the night. Instead, your magic mouth did it to me—not for the rest of the night, but for the rest of the weekend. Problem was, I was hard a stone too, I just couldn't..."

A grin quivered at the corners of her lips. "Really?"

"The only thing that aroused me was thinking of you, and I couldn't stop thinking about you. After the real thing, how could a mere memory compete? And to answer your question, I suppose that's part of why I was obsessed with another session. What you did to me...well, it felt _really_ great. What guy wouldn't want a repeat performance?"

"Right."

"Haley, you're not here because I want a session," Damien said. "Besides, you're out of the business now, right?"

She nodded, wariness creeping into her eyes.

"So even if something did happen between us at some future point—which I'm not asking for or expecting—it wouldn't be another one-sided encounter. No bets. No walls. You'd be in it for pleasure just as much as I would. I couldn't accept anything less either."

A tiny smile replaced her unease. "Well, then I guess we're in luck, since I'm not your type anyway, right?"

Chapter 8

The Ambien worked its magic. Haley was out like a light before Damien closed the door. He sighed heavily, thinking of what she presumed was true.

"Not my type," he scoffed softly under his breath. "Maybe not in the sense of the women I usually see, but this is one I had no qualms about bringing home to mother."

"Taken to muttering to yourself, Damien?"

"Ma," he grumbled. "Haven't you done enough damage for one night?"

"Other than the fact that she's _the_ Haley Templeton, why is she here? And don't feed me some line about wanting to help the poor thing in her time of need."

"And what if that's all it is?"

"It isn't, and believe me, I know the difference. Not one time have you actually brought a woman into this apartment. You've been far more discreet, keeping them ferreted away at some secret place or only seeing them in their homes. So what is it about this one that made you so eager to bring her here?"

"It's complicated."

"Guilt usually is, my darling son."

He looked at her sharply. "Guilt?"

"Well of course. You could've settled for far less of the proceeds of that estate. Perhaps there would've been something left for the poor thing."

"Mother, if I hadn't taken what was offered, someone else would've had it. You know that as well as I do. As cavalier as Geoffrey was with money, it's no wonder the court favored the creditors so heavily. The judge protected her education trust and left it up to her to find a means of providing for herself once she received a degree."

"Yes, though I doubt the judge would feel less than the bastard he was if he had any idea how she went about earning her pittance of savings."

"What did you do?" Damien growled.

"I overheard you talking to that odious Victor Fontaine, that's what. You brought a high priced call girl into this house because you feel responsible for the choices she made as an adult. So give her some money and send her packing."

Damien's finger jabbed the air in front of Siobhan's nose. "You will never speak of that again, nor will you hint, imply or suggest to me—or especially Haley—that my kindness is based in guilt or that I would even hint of paying her off to ease my responsibility for what happened to her. Do I make myself clear?"

"Tsk," Siobhan tutted. "Are you beginning to believe the gossipmongers about what a fearsome criminal you are? You don't frighten me, Damien-boy, so don't bother trying. And believe me, it'd be better by far if you end this now, rather than latching onto this girl until she eventually learns the truth about why her nana despised you so much. Do you think it won't matter to her, that she'll see this kind gesture you've made a bit more favorably once she learns that you—"

"I wasn't responsible for what happened!" Damien hissed. "And why would she find out unless you tell her, Ma? Christ it happened when she was still a child. She's not interested in ancient history, only in cleaning up the mess of her recent sordid past."

"Fontaine slept with her," Siobhan said. "How much do you think it would take to motivate him into sharing your dark little secret with her, particularly since he believes you're the reason she's left her sex-trade business?"

"He never slept with her! She can't stand him, Mother, and besides, I have no intention of letting Fontaine or any other old client within shouting distance of her. At least not yet."

"So that's the grand plan?" Siobhan scoffed. "Sweep her off her feet, make her swoon under your romantic finesse and hope for the best when the truth comes out?"

"I don't know why you're so stuck on this. It's not like she doesn't hold her parents accountable for their waste. Let's not forget that they squandered away a two billion dollar empire just to play and have fun while they left the responsibility of raising their only child to the hired help!"

"Oh believe me, lad," she nodded. "I know full well their emotional depth. I'd seen more compassion from sows that eat the weak suckling than the two of those had. But they were still her parents, and you still were the largest creditor, the one left holding the bag for the most money. As I recall, they were in three quarters of a billion at the Monte Carlo casino alone, not to mention that yacht they died on was owned by your company. Do you think she'll start wondering—given your much exaggerated reputation—that the horrific events that led to their deaths might've been arranged by someone who knew the only way he'd see a red cent of the money owed him was through the liquidation of their non-cash assets? No, lad, I believe Haley Templeton is too smart not to ask those questions eventually. God knows, they were the root of this notoriously bad reputation you've got."

Damien dug his fingers through his hair and tugged hard. "I need time, Mother. We've got to get us through this funeral business for Mrs. Trenton. Then, once Haley's settled into some semblance of normalcy, I'll explain to her what happened."

"She won't believe you," Siobhan crossed her arms over her chest stubbornly. "You know as well as I do that this terrible talk surrounding you has seriously hurt business."

"I'm far from being destitute, Mother. You know that. Even if she launches a smear campaign against me—something I already know she wouldn't do—it would risk exposing a past she's desperate to keep hidden. Believe me, she is terrified that people will know that the daughter of Geoffrey and Clarissa Templeton turned tricks for a living."

"So this lovely trust that you think you're building, it's based upon the threat of exposure, or rather her fear of it. Damien, don't you see the danger in all of this? Someone is going to get hurt, likely both of you. And Victor Fontaine is practically frothing at the mouth for a chance to damage your reputation a bit more. As if it's somehow your fault that he has no self control and continues to fritter away his fortune downstairs."

"Don't you think I'm aware of all of this? Christ," Damien hissed. "It's been making me half insane all night. But I can't just walk away from her, Ma. Not only is it wrong morally, it's cowardly too. She deserves to know the truth about who I really am, and if she can accept it..."

"Dear Lord. You're falling for her, aren't you?"

"I honestly don't know," he sighed softly. "It's not like I've ever felt this way before—about anyone. All I know is that she's suffering, and I want to do everything I can to help her get through this. Ma, she literally has no one. I'm a grown man, and while I appreciate your concern for my emotional wellbeing and happiness, I'm going to have to insist that you let me deal with this in my way—in my time."

" _Agus beidh mé a bheith ar an taobh clé cheann glanadh suas na píosaí_!" she hissed angrily.

"I can pick up the pieces myself, Ma. No need to go all native on me. Nor will you speak that way in front of Haley. You're to be kind to her for the duration of her stay here."

"I thought she was just spending the night!"

"She is, but I can't imagine that things are going to magically look better for her in the morning. And it's really none of your business how long she stays or why or how I feel about her." Damien sucked in a deep, calming breath. "I'm sorry, Mother. But I must draw the line here. You've pushed and tested the limits too far already. Please, just let me deal with Haley."

Siobhan held her hands up in supplication. "So long as we're clear on my take in all of this. It's dangerous, Damien, and I won't sit idly by if she breaks your heart."

Damien snorted softly. "Compassion isn't synonymous with foolishness. I care. Could it be something more—someday? I don't know. But I feel responsible in part to see to it that if she really wants a clean break to start her life over that no one—especially Victor Fontaine—interferes. That goes for you too, Mother."

"Consider me forewarned."

"I'm not sure why you think Fontaine could damage my reputation more than it already has been. Half the city thinks I'm some sort of old school Irish-Italian crime boss as it is. How much worse could it get?"

"I've taught you better than that," she tutted. "Never ask what else could go wrong, for it's tempting fate to show you."

It cracked through his ire and made Damien grin. "All right, Mother. Heaven forbid we tempt fate. Now if you're finished castigating me, I'd like to go to bed. I'm exhausted, and this damned hand is starting to throb."

"Did they give you proper pain medication?" Siobhan asked. "I probably have some oxy—"

"No narcotics, Mother. I don't like being fuzzy headed. A couple of ibuprofen will suit me just fine. Behave yourself."

Siobhan leaned in and kissed his cheek. "Good night, boy-o. Sweet dreams of _anything_ but damsels in distress."

His mother's warnings and dire predictions swirled around in Damien's head as he got ready for bed.

Haley would be angry—of that much he was certain—when she learned the truth about how much money came from liquidating the property assets held by her parents. Yes, the bulk of what they'd owed was payable to DeMarcus Unlimited. He'd settled for pennies on the dollar, coming away with a little over 200 million dollars. A little over 26 cents for every dollar they owed him, to be exact.

But that money would've meant a very different life for Haley. In light of the five hundred thousand dollars he tried to pay her for that insane wager—one made before he truly knew her identity—would be even more insulting when and if Haley ever learned the truth.

He didn't doubt that Fontaine would be stumbling over his own feet to break the news to Haley. Now that he knew bad blood existed between the two of them, Fontaine would be determined to tell Haley every sordid detail, just to drive a dagger a little deeper into her heart.

Damien clenched his fists. "Over my dead body," he growled.

Dear Lord. You're falling for her aren't you?

Siobhan's words continued to batter him. Was he? No doubt she was beautiful, and she'd intrigued him like no one else. All that happened before he learned that _Khram_ was an alias. And seriously, it wasn't that great of an alias, since it literally meant _temple_ in Russian.

If he was capable of honesty with himself, he knew that if he'd wanted her before, learning who she really was merely intensified his desire.

But why? Was Haley the last possession of Geoffrey Templeton, the last bit owed him in a massive debt that yielded a few pennies for every dollar?

"No," he whispered. "I don't own people. I wouldn't want to own people."

Along with the throbbing hand, Damien's head began to ache when he climbed into bed. Maybe his mother was right—clean break at first light and all that. After all, the last thing Haley needed right now was another complication.

But if Fontaine decided to find her to determine if she really got out of her previous line of work, odds were, he'd stumble onto Haley's identity and ruin her just for kicks.

The best thing for Haley would be to disappear, to leave this city and move to a new one, one in which her reputation wouldn't hang on the vindictive whims of a former client's son.

Damien's belly filled with bile that sloshed inside him with every breath, every tiny motion as he tried to find a comfortable position in his bed. It bothered him, the notion of sending Haley away, never seeing her again. Maybe it was because she'd refused him so thoroughly. Not just his offer of sex either. She refused his money too.

_But not your friendship in her true time of need_ , part of his brain whispered.

The other half argued in return. _Yes, and that's the only reason she didn't toss you out on your ass once again, Damien. She had no one else. This is the face of desperation, man. Accept it._

Even though the hour was late, it was still early in terms of Damien's business. He wasn't surprised when the phone started ringing. With a sigh, he rolled up and sat on the edge of the bed and answered.

"DeMarcus."

"Hey, it's Ramón."

Damien rolled his eyes. Ramón was his security chief. "What's happened this time?"

"Just thought I'd give you a heads up. Samson briefed me on the Fontaine incident. He checked out of the hotel about fifteen minutes ago. I decided to do a little digging."

"Oh? In what area?"

"The usual. A team went to his suite. Everything was in order. I pulled up the phone records from room 1775. He made precisely three calls—one right after check-in, one after his presence was requested in your office, and a third to a private limo service."

"What call did he make after I talked to him?" Damien cringed, fully expecting it to be from an attorney who might further attempt to harass him over the stern warning he'd issued to Fontaine.

"Damnedest thing, boss. He called the management company for some pricey high-rise not too terribly far from here."

"The Oaks?" Damien hissed.

"Uh, yeah, that's the one. Is there something else going on here that I should know about? You're not planning a hostile take-over of a residential building, are you boss?"

"No," Damien's clipped tone conveyed his irritation. "How long did the call last?"

"Four minutes, thirteen seconds."

"Longer than it takes to leave voice mail. Give me the number."

Ramón rattled it off, and Damien hung up without another word. He dialed. It was after midnight now. Surely there'd be no one—

"The Oaks, how may I direct your call?"

"Uh, I'm trying to find out if Mr. Kimball is in," Damien said.

"No, sir, but I can connect you to the manager on call," the receptionist said. "Would that be sufficient?"

"Yes, please do," Damien said.

After another moment, and five long rings, a groggy voice came on the line. "Yes, what is it this time?"

"With whom am I speaking?"

"Wilhelm Clark, and I'm the manager on call. If this is anything less pressing than a lost key, I'm going to be very put out."

"Mr. Clark, this is Damien DeMarcus. I spoke with Mr. Kimball a couple of days ago—"

The gasp interrupted. "Mr. DeMarcus! My God, do tell me there hasn't been an issue with one of _your_ guests!"

"I'm calling about a former tenant, Ms. Haley Khram."

"Dear me, that woman again..." Clark sighed. "She no longer lives here, Mr. DeMarcus, and I'm under strict orders not to divulge any other information."

"Then the call you received from Victor Fontaine a few hours ago was in regard to Ms. Khram? He wanted to know if she left a forwarding address."

"How in the world could you possibly know that?" Clark scoffed.

"We keep detailed records of phone calls in this casino, Mr. Clark, as a matter of casino security. All guests are aware of the policy on check-in."

He sighed. "It would seem you already know the nature of Mr. Fontaine's call and now, my response to the query. He got no more information than I'm giving you."

"On the contrary, Mr. Clark. That request to keep her information confidential was made by me to Mr. Kimball when we discussed Ms. Khram's obligation on her lease. I'm taking time to reiterate right now—if anyone, including Victor Fontaine—so much as requests to even confirm that she lived in The Oaks, you're to tell them nothing. Do I make myself clear? Ms. Khram wishes to avoid certain people—"

"Like Mr. Fontaine," Clark said wryly.

"Especially Mr. Fontaine."

"His father was quite fond of Ms. Khram," Clark said. "I suppose a great many of her _callers_ will miss visiting her here."

If Damien could've reached through the phone and strangled the bastard, he would've done it.

Chapter 9

Damien drifted off to sleep, troubled by his mother's prediction, particularly in light of that bastard Fontaine's sniffing around for Haley at her old residence. Doubts swirled in his mind. Were his motives rooted in guilt, or did he feel something deeper for the woman in question? He didn't doubt that he was willing to risk her anger if it meant protecting her from Fontaine, but what if Haley actually became angry enough to further damage his reputation?

The dreams weren't peaceful. On the contrary, he was visited by ghosts of the recent past. Haley opened the door to her high rise condo in next to nothing, luring him, taunting him, taking his money and leaving him aching for more.

Her face transformed into Fontaine's as he not only ruined Damien's business, but cheated him out of the bulk of his fortune by buying off Damien's employees—men and women Damien trusted to be loyal.

His ex showed up, with her new man, Officer Joe. "He's the one! He's the one who ruined sex for me! Arrest him!"

She slithered across the room and ran her nails lightly down his bare chest. "This is what happens to men who don't give me what I want," she whispered. "I take everything from them, darling, and I leave nothing behind but an empty shell of who they used to be. Are you ready for my loving now? Take me back, and this all goes away."

Her cold lips pressed against the hollow of his throat.

"Take me, Damien. I'm the only woman for you, and you know it. Dress me up like daddy's little girl and fuck me."

Damien felt his fingers tighten around her biceps while Officer Joe laughed, and Fontaine threw piles of his money into a lusty, eager crowd. His mother shook her head slowly and wagged one finger.

"I warned you, lad. Taking in that girl was a mistake. And where's she now when you're the one dying for a helping hand? Nowhere to be seen."

"Haley!" he yelled. "Haley, help me! Tell them I'm not a monster!"

She appeared before him ethereal like the mist. Her voice was empty, as hollow as his chest felt. "You could've told me the truth. You could've asked me to forgive you. But look what I've become because of your greed. And you want my help now? Where were you when I had to sell my body just to survive?"

Damien's hands clasped the sides of his head, fingers digging into his hair. "No," he whispered. "No!" Louder this time.

" _No!_ " he screamed.

The thunderous and mocking laughter ceased, and everything disappeared. Darkness engulfed him, suffocating in its heavy and oppressive blackness. Damien heard his heartbeat accelerate in his head, felt it drumming frantically in his temples. His hair stood taut on both arms and cold chilled him so deeply the shivers were instantly frozen in paralysis.

"Hello?" he whispered. "Is anyone there? Please. Someone talk to me."

A warm hand pressed against his chest. "You're freezing. Be still while I get you bundled up."

"Mama, is that you?"

"Of course it's me, lad. Who else would care for you when the rest of the world leaves you? You've always got me, Damien. You know that."

"You said she'd hurt me."

"Yes," Siobhan murmured. "I'm so sorry, love."

"I only wanted to take care of her."

"Because you feel guilty."

"No, Mama, it's more than that. She's..."

"She's very beautiful," Siobhan said.

"Yes. And... and..."

"Delicate. Feminine."

"Oh yes. She's..."

"Got that innocent air about her? Yes, love, I noticed. But she's not innocent. It's only the package. On the inside, she's dead. She burned away all her passion. She took the easy way to get a fortune and extinguished her spark."

"What do you mean?" Damien asked.

"I mean that within all of us is the spark, my dear one, the light that guides us to be who God intended. And you know the good Lord doesn't care about money and success. He wants us to find that one thing that makes us better people and do that."

"I have no spark either," Damien whispered. "I take from others. I only get more and more until there is so much, I couldn't possibly need or want for anything, but it's never enough. Is it, Mother?"

"For you, lad, no. It has never been enough."

"Is it too late for me? Too late for Haley?"

"What are you willing to sacrifice for the spark?"

"I—I don't know. What would it take?"

"Give something without expectation of anything in return," Siobhan's voice was disembodied, the lips on the face hovering over him pressed tightly together, yet Damien still heard her words very clearly.

"I—what if she won't accept it?"

"That doesn't matter. It's only your intention that counts. Find out what she wants more than anything, more than money, more than the former prestige of her family's name, and give her that thing."

"How will I know what it is?" he asked.

"You already know, laddie, now you just have to accept it."

Siobhan drifted away. Cold sweat dotted his skin as the darkness swirled in and blinded him to everything else.

Damien sucked in a deep breath, shuddered hard, and sat upright in the bed. He gasped softly, and then realized that he wasn't alone.

Or was he still dreaming?

Haley stood beside his bed, head bowed. Soft hiccups punctuated the silence, perhaps between sobs.

"Haley?" he said softly. "I thought you were sleeping."

She didn't move, just continued to stare at the floor.

"Honey, what's wrong?" Damien reached for her, smoothed the hair back from her face and tucked one finger under her chin. He tilted her face up until the tears were plainly visible.

"Is it because Nana's gone?"

Still, no response.

Damien sat on the edge of his bed and hooked his hands under Haley's arms. He lifted her into his lap. "Haley, talk to me."

She buried her face against his bare chest and sobbed harder, quaking in his arms.

"What the hell?" Damien muttered.

Haley's arms wound around him. She hugged tightly.

Damien cradled her close. "Talk to me, Haley. Do I need to take you to the hospital? Are you freaking out?"

"No," she whispered.

"Baby, what's wrong?"

Hot tears ran over his chest. "You said you wouldn't leave."

"Haley, you asked me to stay until you fell asleep."

She pulled away enough to peer up at him with red, wet eyes. "Well, I woke up again, and I didn't know where I was. I thought—" soft hiccup, "I thought I was having a nightmare, that Nana was still with me."

He thumbed the tears from her cheeks. "I'm sorry, Haley. I don't know what to say or do for you. It seems like I'm just making this harder for you."

She stiffened and tried to wiggle off his lap.

"No," Damien said quietly, but in a stern tone that brooked no argument. "Don't run away from me. Tell me what you need. If you want me to stay in your room, I'll do it. If you're afraid of waking up alone in a strange place, tell me now. I won't leave you for a moment. But I can't read your mind, honey. If you don't tell me what you need, I don't know what to do."

"Tell me why."

"Why?" Damien echoed.

Haley nodded. "Yes. Why are you doing this? Why are you being so kind to me? I haven't exactly been very nice to you—ever. A few days ago, you were so angry with me, I didn't think I'd ever see you again. And then last night, you just appeared when I needed someone."

Siobhan's words ricocheted in his brain. He tensed.

"I know it was just an unbelievably fortunate coincidence for me," Haley said. "What I don't understand is why you'd be so kind to me, after how terribly I judged you based on ugly rumors."

"You apologized. Didn't you really mean it?"

"Yes of course, but..."

Damien frowned. "But what?"

"But I was sorry for judging you based on ugly rumors. I still had no idea how wrong I was about you. And I was wrong, Damien. Wasn't I?"

"I'm not a monster, Haley," he said softly. "I'm not an angel either. I've done things I'm not particularly proud of, but I've never intentionally set out to harm anyone."

It was Haley's turn to frown. Tiny lines creased her forehead between her eyebrows.

"Does that bother you?" Damien asked gently.

"Have you unintentionally harmed someone?"

Damien's arms tightened around her, as if he feared an honest answer would send her running from the room. "I think everyone hurts people without meaning to, Haley. Don't you agree?"

She nodded and tucked her chin to her chest. "I kept hurting Nana, even after she found out how I was making money. I couldn't stop though."

"Do you regret giving it up?" he asked. "She's gone now, Haley. If it's that important to you to continue—"

The wide eyes and direct stare gave Damien pause.

"Is that what _you_ want?" Haley barely whispered. "Is that what this is about? Because you _want_ me?"

"No!" Damien burst out. "I mean... ah hell." He slid her off his lap and onto the side of the bed beside him. "Christ, woman, what is it about you?"

"What do you mean?" Haley asked.

"I don't think I could lie to you if my life depended on it."

"Oh," she said. "Do you want to lie to me now?"

"It would be a hell of a lot easier," Damien said. "Because at this exact moment, I'm afraid the truth will send you running."

She reached for his hand, stroked it lightly with her fingers once before retreating and said, "Tell me the truth, Damien. Please?"

"I do want you."

"I see."

"No," he laughed wryly. "You really don't see. I feel like I could do grave bodily harm to any man who has ever been intimate with you. Hell, I'd like to gouge Officer Joe's eyes out because he's seen you... well, in an intimate setting, and had the gall to think I'd let him touch you."

A tiny smile crept to Haley's lips. "You're jealous?"

"Insanely." Damien raked the fingers of his uninjured hand through his hair. "Like I said, it's fucking crazy. So do I still want you? Yeah, I really do. But I don't want anybody else wanting you—or having you—either. I don't have any right to tell you not to resume the life you just recently gave up. And I'm making a pretty huge assumption that Nana was the primary reason you quit the business."

"She was," Haley said.

He pinned her with a probing stare. "Do you miss it?"

Only her lips moved. _No_.

"I'd love to give you what you want," Damien said.

Haley gasped.

"Normal," he continued. "For the rest of your life. Just...normal."

"I..."

"You told me what you wanted," Damien said. "I was being selfish, only thinking about how much I wanted your body, Haley, and that wasn't fair. I know there's so much more beneath the surface—which is undeniably beautiful—but I think what's inside you puts the outer beauty deep into the shadows."

"You don't have to say this," she said quietly.

"That night, the one that I was so arrogant, so sure I could give you more pleasure than anyone else ever has, nothing touched you...at least not until I talked about something very normal, Haley. Please tell me I didn't imagine it. You responded to me. Why won't you tell me what I said or did that got behind your walls?"

Haley flushed crimson and stared at her hands clasped tightly in her lap. "You don't want the same things I want. How could you possibly offer me normal and really mean it, Damien? I mean, what if I do want a family someday?"

"So when I said that...it was what you really want in life?"

She nodded. "I always pictured what it would be like to be a mother... imagined being everything to my daughter that mine wasn't..."

"To you," Damien finished her thought. "You're right."

Her shoulders slumped. "You already told me you don't want children. When you came to my house the other day and told me you wanted me, I knew it was just this body," her voice brimmed with disgust.

"Maybe," he said softly, "but maybe I saw who you really are for just a split second that night I met you. Maybe she's the woman who enchanted me."

Haley laughed softly. "Enchanted, huh?"

"Would you prefer fascinated? Intrigued? Bewitched? They'd all apply. I haven't thought about much other than you since I met you, Haley."

She crawled back into his lap and wrapped her arms around him again. "Thank you."

"For?"

"Giving me my first taste of normal. At least, I hope that's what this is."

"It's whatever you want it to be, Haley."

She snuggled close and sighed. "I don't want to be alone."

"You're not."

"Can I sleep in here with you?" she asked softly.

Damien's heart skipped a beat. Could he? Sitting with her in a guest room was one thing. Even curling up beside her on that bed in a room that wasn't his was difficult, but tolerable. Seeing her in his bed...dear God.

"If it's too much—"

"Don't be ridiculous," Damien said. "Climb in."

He scooted back on the mattress and urged Haley into the middle of the large bed. She laid down, facing him after she crawled under the covers.

"Are you sure you're all right with this?" she asked.

Damien slid in beside her and opened his arms. Haley didn't wait for a verbal invitation. A moment later, her head was pillowed on his chest. Her last thought before sleep came again, was that it was very strange feeling comfortable in bed with a man she hardly knew, yet at the same time, it was the closest thing to normal she'd ever known.

Chapter 10

Damien woke in a tangle of limbs. Haley was sprawled over his chest, her hair snagged like fine silk in the heavy stubble that covered the lower half of his face. He couldn't help grinning as he carefully rearranged her hair.

God, she was beautiful—even more so in sleep. There was no artfully applied makeup, no seductive kohl around her eyes, no deep red hue to her full lips. Without all of that stuff, she looked younger than twenty-four, and far more innocent than she really was.

Her lips were slightly parted, eyes still a little puffy and red from crying, but Damien felt a surge of arousal ripple through him anyway. The way she was laying, with her left arm strangling his waist and the leg up and over his, tucked between them in fact, she was bound to feel evidence of what waking up with a Haley blanket was doing to him.

Carefully, he started to peel her arm away from his waist. Haley whimpered and burrowed closer. Damien hugged her body against him and rolled instead.

"Mmm," Haley mumbled. Her hands skimmed down over his hips as she pressed a soft kiss against the smooth chest against her cheek. "Want you so much."

Damien froze save for his eyes that searched the sleepy face below him. "Haley, are you awake?"

Her hips bucked up into his. "Mm-hmm."

He frowned. "Who do you want?"

"You."

"Haley, tell me my name." He gasped softly when her hand slid inside the waist of his pajama pants and slid over his bare ass. Damien hissed a soft curse. She was pulling him down against her, grinding her sex against his very interested cock.

He pressed down, pinning her to the bed and grasped both her hands. "Look at me."

Haley's head tossed side to side as she struggled to break free of his hold on her. "Not supposed to be this way, Tommy...please...I want you...don't have to tie me up. You can play."

Damien released her and flew off the bed. He backed away quickly, shaking his head. Dear God, what was she saying? Who the hell was Tommy?

Haley groaned and curled in toward the warm spot on the bed that Damien had hastily vacated. Her hand sought him out, but finding nothing, flopped helplessly onto his pillow.

Damien retreated to the bathroom and showered quickly. Any arousal he'd felt waking with her in his arms died instantly when she spoke another man's name. but the chill her words elicited persisted despite the heat blasting from the shower head.

He castigated himself over the incident. "What would you have done if she'd said your name anyway, DeMarcus? She's lost her footing in life. Now is not the time to be distracted by a hot lay."

Damien's conscience protested. _A hot lay? She's a hell of a lot more than that, and you know it. And while we're discussing self–delusion, how about you stop pretending that any of this is about guilt? Siobhan's right. If you simply felt guilty, you'd cut her a check she couldn't refuse, and have done with it._

That tight fist sensation returned to his gut. Damien knew the smart move was to send her packing, to let her find her own way in life.

Look how well that turned out for her the first time she had the opportunity to really start a new life.

Damien pressed his hands against the tiled wall and let the hot water burn over his bent head and blaze a trail down his back. Not guilt? That's exactly what it felt like.

Then why did you want to hear her say her name so badly, DeMarcus? What would you have done if she had said it? I'll tell you what. You'd have made love to her. You'd still be in there. You know you'll never get enough of her. All it took was a taste and you wanted more.

"No," he muttered. "It was the challenge of breaking down her walls. And Christ, now I know what they are, why they exist."

_You think you know_ , his conscience whispered. _But you don't really understand her at all. Why don't you try getting to know who she is before you decide what to do about this obsession you've got? Stop being afraid she'll find out something about you that you'd rather she never know. Ask her who Tommy was, for fuck's sake._

The internal debate raged on while he toweled off and dressed. Damien slipped back into the bedroom. Haley had his pillow hugged to her chest. The familiar twinges of desire ignited again. It was after eight already, but part of him wanted to let her sleep until she woke on her own.

Too much to do today. He drifted across the room and sat on the edge of the bed. "Haley, wake up."

A tiny frown plumped her lips, and the little crease between her eyebrows returned. Damien reached out and smoothed his thumb over it, down her nose.

"Haley, honey, you need to wake up now. It's morning and we need to start making arrangements for Mrs. Trenton."

Her eyelids fluttered for a moment before popping wide open. "Nana..."

"Hi," Damien said softly.

"It wasn't a nightmare."

"Please don't cry again," Damien said. "I think you'll feel better after a shower and some breakfast. What would you like to eat?"

"Nothing," she whispered.

"Haley, please don't do this. Your nana wouldn't want you starving yourself. And we need to contact the funeral home about arrangements."

She nodded. "I'll have to go to her condo first. She might've had something there that would help me know what she wanted," Haley said. "My car is still at the hospital."

"Ok. If you have the keys, I can send someone over to pick it up."

"That's not necessary," Haley said. "You've done too much already, Damien. I'll just get dressed and take a taxi back to pick up the car."

"Are you sure you don't want some company? At least when you go to her apartment?" he asked. "I don't have anything going on this morning. I'm sure you've figured out that the busiest part of my day is night time anyway."

Her moment of hesitation was all the invitation Damien needed.

"I'm coming with you then," he said. "I don't want to worry all morning that you're holed up in her apartment alone and distraught."

"I'll be distraught with an audience," she said softly.

"May I ask a question?"

Haley frowned but nodded.

"Who is Tommy?"

Her frown intensified. " _Tommy_? I have no idea. Why would you..."

"You talk in your sleep," Damien grinned sheepishly.

"Tommy! My God, I haven't thought of him in ages."

"Then there was someone with that name?"

Haley blushed and nodded. "I was a child, you see. My parents were gone... some casino or some such in Monte Carlo—"

Damien felt his face grow warm.

"And Tommy was the son of my parent's driver. Gosh, I must've been ten years old the last time I saw him. We...well, we weren't supposed to be playing softball in Mother's garden in the first place, but you see, I had a little bit of a crush on him. Whenever we played games—the children of the people who worked with my parents—I always got to be a team captain. I suppose in deference to the fact that their parents worked for mine.

"Well, Tommy was probably twelve, and terribly handsome. At least that's what I thought at the ripe old age of ten. But I'd never pick him for my team. One day...the last time we ever played at that estate in fact, Tommy got angry with me for not picking him first. He stomped off and refused to play at all. I begged him to come back. I even admitted that I wanted him—for the team, you see. He was so angry with me, he pulled some of the branches off the weeping willow tree and told me he'd play, but only if I let him tie me up for the duration of the game."

She laughed softly. "I wonder what I must've been dreaming to remember that game."

By the time she finished her story, relief had swept through Damien like a tsunami.

"I struggled so hard to get out of those silly restraints," she grinned. "And I kept begging him to let me go, that it didn't have to be that way. I wanted so much for him to like me, you see."

"And you never saw him again after that?" Damien grinned.

A cloud of sorrow flitted through Haley's eyes. "No. It was the last day I ever spent at that estate. I suppose my father lost it before the rest of his fortune. All the people who worked for him, I guess they lost their jobs too. Nana and I were sent to Boston to live in my grandfather's old townhouse. It wasn't long after that, that I was sent to boarding school. Of course, Nana came with me, but I never felt like I had a home again."

"What about your bungalow in Spring Hill?" Damien asked.

"Yes," she said softly. "That really is my home now." She struggled to sit and tentatively rested her hand on Damien's shoulder.

"You know, I really don't know how to thank you for being so kind to me, Damien. It's...probably the most compassionate thing anyone's ever done for me."

"Can you accept that I'm not going away, that I won't let you deal with all of this alone, Haley?"

Her eyes darted away.

Damien cupped her cheek and lifted her face until their eyes met. "I don't know why, but I can't just walk away from you. Please don't ask me to do it again, honey."

She raised her hand and covered his. "I know why she keeps coming back to you."

"Who?" Damien barely whispered the word.

"Jessica," Haley said. "She's seen who you really are. No woman would want to lose this."

"Haley—"

"Shh," she pressed her fingers to his lips, and elicited a soft groan. "Your secret is safe with me, Damien DeMarcus. I suppose in your world it pays to have people fear you just a little bit."

"As long as you aren't afraid of me," he said softly.

"Not anymore," Haley admitted. "I only wish Nana could've seen who you really are too, Damien."

It sobered him instantly. Haley had no idea why her nana hated Damien so much. The only question was, if she learned the truth, would she hate him as much as her nana had?

Damien quelled the panic that rose hot and suffocating in his chest. He'd just have to see to it that Haley never learned the truth.

Chapter 11

They spent less than thirty minutes at Delia Trenton's condo. Damien watched as Haley moved like an automaton through the place. She grabbed a light peach colored suit from the modest walk-in closet, collected some cosmetics from the vanity in the bathroom and tossed them into the bottom of the garment bag carrying the suit. They were about to walk out again when something snagged her attention, almost like an afterthought.

"This," she whispered, grabbing what appeared to be a photo album from the shelf. "I can't believe she kept this."

Damien frowned. Weren't the two of them close? Haley certainly seemed to know exactly where to find what the funeral home might need in preparing Delia for her service, but a photo album lying out in plain sight gave her pause?

He stepped closer. "Haley?"

She stood staring at it with a blank expression on her face—well, perhaps blank was the wrong word. She looked lost, trapped in some far away and very distant place. Damien pried the garment bag from her hand and wrapped one arm around her waist.

"Honey, are you all right?"

She nodded and clutched the photo album to her chest. Haley shuddered. "I need to get out of here, please."

"All right," Damien said softly. He steered her back out the door and out to the car where Teddy waited to take them to the funeral home. Covertly, he watched Haley on the drive across town. She didn't seem to be focused on much more than the death grip on that book of memories. Curiosity tickled through his brain.

"Are those photos special, Haley?"

She blinked twice and seemed to snap back into reality. "What photos?"

"The ones in that album you're holding," he said.

"Oh...it's not actually a photo album," she said. A pink hue flushed her pale face. "It's a book Nana kept about my childhood. She was hired to care for me just before I was born, you see. So she kept this book marking all the milestones. She said it was important."

Haley paused and shrugged. "I guess maybe she hoped that one day my mother might be curious about what she missed, you know, having a stranger raise me."

Damien frowned. "Exactly how much time did you actually spend with your parents when you were a child, Haley?"

"I...a Christmas holiday one year. I think I was five. And they had a birthday party for me when I was thirteen. My father said I was practically a woman."

"And other than that, you didn't spend any time with them at all?"

She shrugged. "They were around...but I wasn't really..."

"You weren't around when they were?"

"I wasn't allowed to be with them. By the time I realized who they were, they were strangers to me, Damien. Of course Nana told me all about them. It was just very different. Nana said that's how it is in a lot of families when the parents have a lot of money."

"Did your grandfather actually raise your father?"

"I guess. I mean, I heard something when I was a bit older...what my father said about my grandfather. As you know, I didn't actually know my grandfather, but he at least provided for my education."

"What did your dad say about him?"

Haley shrugged again. "He was a foolish old man, and that he should've never wasted so much money on something so unnecessary."

"I wonder what he was talking about," Damien snorted. "After all, it wasn't your grandfather that lost the family fortune."

Haley cowered into the corner of the back seat of the car. "Nana said that wasn't entirely his fault, that if the creditors had given him more time, he could've turned things around. But they wouldn't wait, and they put so much pressure on him, he had to start selling off his assets."

"How old were you when you heard your father say that Harmon Templeton was an old fool?" Damien asked.

"I was fifteen," she said softly. "My parents had come to my boarding school. I don't remember why, but it was the last time I saw them before...well, before the accident," she said before frowning. "Why do you ask?"

Damien cleared his throat. "Well, Harmon Templeton was legendary in the business world, Haley. He was so highly regarded and well respected, it's hard to imagine anyone thinking him an old or any other kind of fool."

Her frown deepened to a scowl, and for the first time since they'd left Damien's penthouse, Haley actually looked at him. "You're too young to have known my grandfather, Damien. He's been dead for nearly twenty-five years."

Damien dared not correct her, dared not open that can of worms that would send Haley off scouring for the truth about her family, her past. Little did she know, but her grandfather _did_ know her, had been alive until she was nearly ten years old.

"Hence the legendary status," he said quickly. "It's just you know, being in business myself, there are certain practices and business models that were actually conceived by your grandfather that are still widely used today. He wasn't just a shipping tycoon, Haley. He was a brilliant economist."

Her eyes welled with tears. "You know more about my family than I do," she whispered.

"Only because of his reputation as a businessman," he said. "Please don't cry again. I didn't ask you about your family to make you feel worse."

"Why did you ask?"

"I'm curious about you," he admitted.

"The poor little orphan, the rich girl made poor by other businessmen who admired my grandfather too, but not enough to hold back when it was time to pick the flesh off the family bones after my parents died."

Damien debated for half a second before asking, "Then you think death should forgive all debts? What if it was the other way around, Haley, and someone who owed your family a fortune, one that would make the difference between success and failure, and that person died? Should that debt simply be forgiven?"

Confusion clouded her eyes. "No...I guess it shouldn't. But at the same time, a little compassion might've been nice. They didn't have to leave me destitute. Nana said that they would've taken that trust Grandfather set aside for my education too if they could've."

"Haley, it couldn't have been much more than a million dollars," he said softly. "That would've been more than enough to guarantee your education from preschool through college. Didn't your nana tell you how much money your father lost?"

Haley shrugged. "I know it was a lot."

"Harmon Templeton left your father an estate worth two billion dollars. He was a very wealthy man, honey. And...well, from what I've heard at least, the debts were actually settled for pennies on the dollar of what your parents actually owed to their creditors."

She gasped. "How is that even possible?"

"I presume that Delia had no idea how much money your parents had."

"Why should she?" Haley snapped. "She was just another person they paid to do something neither one of them wanted to do—just like the men who cleaned up after the horses in the stables. And what difference would it make if she _did_ know?"

Damien flushed lightly. "Well, she might've told you the truth about what really happened after your parents died."

Her expression hardened. Lips tightened into a thin, angry line. "No," very clipped. "She wouldn't tell me who took whatever my parents had left. All she ever said was that men who had no need for more made sure there was nothing left for either one of us. They took her pension too, you know."

"Your parents?"

Haley made an exasperated sound deep in her throat. "No, the courts who divvied up what little my parents had left to settle their ridiculous _debts_."

Unbelievable. Damien couldn't believe that Delia—for whatever reason—continued to shield Haley from the truth about her parents. Had they not died, they were months, perhaps even less, from becoming penniless anyway. Whatever they'd promised Delia was spent long before their deaths.

He wondered idly if their sudden arrival at Haley's boarding school had been for any other reason than trying to tap into the trust fund her grandfather had wisely (not foolishly at all) set up to assure she had some sort of future. Yet in the end, it hadn't worked out so well anyway. Old Harmon would probably roll over in his grave if he knew that Haley had become a high-priced whore.

Damien reached for her hand and clasped it gently. Her fingers were cold as ice.

"Haley, you're freezing!" his eyes met Teddy's in the mirror, and a moment later, a blast of heated air warmed the back seat of the car.

"I'm upset," she whispered.

"I know." Damien squeezed her hand and lifted it to his lips where he planted soft kisses on her knuckles. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have let my curiosity about your childhood run rampant. It wasn't my intention to make you feel worse."

"You didn't," she said softly. "Unlike my parents apparently, I don't blame anybody but myself for the sorry state of my life."

Hope fluttered in his chest. "You're so young, Haley. Your life can be whatever you want it to be now."

"I have three quarters of a million dollars saved. If I live very frugally, and figure out how to have a regular job, I'll be all right. At least no one can take my house away from me."

Damien scooted across the seat and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "I want to ask you something. It's a serious question, and I'm not trying to make you feel worse."

She eyed him warily. "All right."

"That wager we made...why didn't you keep the money? It seems to me that in light of your decision to quit helping couples with their uh...intimacy issues...that the money would've been...useful."

Haley laughed softly. "When we made that ridiculous _wager_ , as you call it, I had no intention of quitting. Taking some time off, yes. But not to figure out what I could do with my even more ridiculous education."

Curiosity sucked the words right out of Damien's mouth. "What did you plan to do while you took this break from the job?"

Her grin was too wry to express anything but self-loathing. "Vaginoplasty," Haley said softly.

Damien frowned and lowered his voice. "But isn't that when they...well..."

"A _face-lift_ of another kind," she nodded. "What can I say? One of my _former_ clients mentioned that it might not hurt to have a little cosmetic procedure done to...well, tighten up the money maker."

Damien gasped. "Who said that to you?"

This time, her smile was downright bitter. "Remember, I don't kiss and tell."

He gritted his teeth and hissed, "Well, having recently experienced your...assets, I can tell you right now, there is _nothing_ that needs improvement. Not to a single inch of you."

"Yeah," she muttered, "but if I were anything like you assumed, I'd be so vain and selfish that I'd never do anything to mar my body with cellulite and stretch marks."

"I shouldn't have said that. I'm sorry, Haley. What excuse can I offer beyond being a selfish man who wanted what he wanted?"

"You wanted what you paid for, and I wouldn't give it to you."

Damien tugged her closer until she rested her head against his shoulder. "I wanted _you_ , but I didn't exactly leave unsatisfied, even if what I got wasn't what I had in mind that night."

"Well, I wouldn't accept your money anyway, if you'll recall."

"I do," he said, chagrined still that she'd refused to let him pay what he'd agreed after honestly losing the wager. "But I'll let you in on a little secret, Haley. I'd have happily paid ten times that much if you'd have spent the night with me doing what I had in mind."

He felt the grin spread across her face. "You thought you could make me lose control."

"I wanted that more than anything, but not because I wanted to be right."

Haley lifted her face and peered up at him. "Then it wasn't really about winning a bet?"

"No," he said softly. "What I wanted was to make you lose control the way you made me lose control."

"You didn't—"

"Yes," he murmured. "I absolutely did. What I wanted was for us to experience it together. That's why I came back to you, found out where you really live. I've never been so fascinated by a woman in my life, Haley."

"And my tearful drama—"

"I already told you. I'm not going away, Haley. I didn't want to leave you before you lost Delia. Enchanted, remember?"

A tiny smile ghosted across her lips. Impulsively, she leaned in and kissed him lightly on the cheek. "Thank you."

Teddy cleared his throat. "Mr. DeMarcus, we've arrived," he said.

Haley's face instantly fell. Tension rippled through her body into Damien.

"Let's just take these things inside and talk about some very preliminary arrangements," Damien said.

Haley nodded.

Moments later, they were ushered into an office inside the funeral home by the owner himself.

"Miss..."

"Trenton," Damien supplied. "Delia was her mother."

Haley instantly relaxed.

"First of all," Mr. Holmes said, "we are so sorry for your loss. Your mother made arrangements with us in advance of her death, approximately six weeks ago."

Haley gasped. "She did?"

Holmes frowned. "I assumed you knew...I mean, she mentioned that she wasn't sure how much time she had left."

Haley burst into tears again.

Damien wrapped his arms around her and held her securely. "Perhaps it would be best if you explain to me what Delia's wishes were, Mr. Holmes. Obviously, there were health problems that Delia hadn't shared with her daughter."

Aghast, Holmes nodded. "She said she'd recently been diagnosed with a terminal illness—hinted that it was cancer...Miss Trenton, can I get you something?" he asked when Haley sobbed even harder.

Damien ignored him. "So she made her wishes known to you?"

Holmes said, "Yes. Everything was arranged and paid for in advance. Mrs. Trenton wanted to ease any burden—well, to her daughter, I presume, though she only referred to Miss Trenton as her lamb."

Damien nodded. "And her wishes were what specifically?"

"Cremation," Holmes said. "To be carried out immediately. Of course, we haven't done it yet. We thought perhaps when we got your card and learned that she had family with her at the hospital that you might wish to have some sort of memorial for her."

Haley shook her head. "No," she whispered. "Only what Nana wanted, Damien."

"Would you like to see her one last time?" he asked.

"I just...I want to leave."

"She selected an urn, miss," Holmes said. "And there were some other instructions that she requested we give to you upon her cremation."

"What were they?" Damien asked.

"She said there was a garden...in France."

Haley gasped again and nodded. "We used to spend hours in that garden when I was a child," she whispered.

He smiled kindly. "Yes, she said you'd know exactly where she meant. Her only request was that you scatter her ashes there. She said it was the happiest place of your life, and she wanted her final rest to be there."

"You still have my card?" Damien asked.

Holmes nodded. "Of course, Mr. DeMarcus."

"Please notify me when it's finished so we can see to Delia's last wish."

"It shouldn't be more than a day or two at most, Mr. DeMarcus. I'll be in touch."

Chapter 12

"I'd like to go home," Haley said quietly when they were seated in the back of Damien's car again.

"I don't think you should be alone."

She plucked at the floaty skirt Caroline from the boutique had supplied for her. "Just to get some of my own things. Please, Damien?"

"Sure," he said softly. "Haley, I'm so sorry that Delia didn't tell you she was ill. She must've kept it from her doctor too, or he'd never have agreed to perform surgery on her."

"I don't understand why she even agreed to it," she started weeping again.

For the second time that morning, Damien moved across the expanse of the back seat and pulled her into his lap this time. He rocked her gently while she cried. "Obviously, she thought she had more time, Haley. Maybe she would've told you what she was facing."

"My parents had an estate in France...near Nice to be exact."

"Okay..."

"I'm not sure who owns it now, but that's where the garden was. And really, that's being a bit generous. It was a small courtyard garden with a very healthy growth of fruit trees. Whenever my parents would summer in the south of France, Nana and I would spend weeks at the estate. She loved that place."

"Then we'll go. We'll find out who owns the place now, and we'll go."

Haley snuggled closer to Damien from her perch in his lap. "Would you really do that for me?"

"Yes," he answered automatically. "I'd give you anything you wanted, Haley."

"Did you mean what you said to me?"

"Every word," Damien replied earnestly. "Anything you want, anything you need—"

"I meant before..."

Damien's eyebrows knitted together. "I'm certain I've said a lot of things to you Haley, and meant everything that wasn't said in anger."

"That you...you wanted me?" Her eyes caught his gaze and held it.

Damien felt his breath suspend in his lungs, unable to move deeper inside or escape to the outside.

"If you didn't mean it—"

"I meant it," he whispered. "But Haley, you're grieving right now, and the last thing you need is...well, that."

"I don't feel alive," she whispered. "This is so awful, and I'm so empty and cold."

Damien's arms tightened around her. "That's grief, sweetheart. I don't want to do something you'll regret after you start processing everything that's happened."

"How could I regret it?" her fingers sifted through his thick, dark hair before trailing over his cheek and brushing his lower lip. "You're the only man who knows everything and isn't running in the opposite direction."

"You don't know what other men would do, Haley. Maybe they wouldn't run away from you either." Part of him wanted to strangle himself to silence. What the hell was he thinking, pushing her toward other men?

She sighed as her hand dropped back into her lap. "Or maybe you're just too polite to run away from me."

Damien's hand spanned her jaw and tilted her face up. "I've been accused of many things in my life, Haley Templeton. Being polite has never been one of them. And I promise you, if I didn't believe that this was grief talking, that you wanted me even half as much as I want you right now, you'd already be flat on your back, and I'd be buried so deep inside you, we wouldn't know where I stop and you start."

Haley's lips parted on a soft gasp. Her eyes flared slightly, but she didn't try to break free of his hold on her. Instead her little pink tongue darted out and moistened her lips. "Oh my," she whispered.

"Let's just get through all of this first...and see how you feel later," he said softly. "How I feel hasn't changed. Well, except it's gotten stronger, what I feel for you, Haley. If you still..."

"I will," she said. "I mean, I do really want you, and I don't think it's just grief talking. Maybe some of the emptiness I feel is grief, but I know I'm not alone, Damien. I have you, right?"

Haley moved closer, brushed her nose against Damien's.

"Oh God, yes," he murmured. Without thinking he moved fractionally closer until their lips nearly touched. _Come on, baby. Kiss me. Give me just a little sign that you really want me too_.

"Boss, we're here," Teddy said from the front seat.

Haley pulled back, her cheeks glowing rosy. Her eyes darted away from Damien's intense gaze.

"We're just here to pick up some things for you to bring home with me, right?" he asked. Damien's fingers dug into her waist when she didn't respond. "Haley?"

"Will you come inside with me?" she whispered.

Damien nodded and slid her off his lap. He opened the back door and helped her out. His heart still thudded heavily, pumping molten sludge through his veins. It burned through every part of his sensitized body with a thrumming awareness, hot with longing and carnal thoughts of the woman clinging to his arm as they walked up the curved path to her front door.

Her hand trembled as she fumbled with the key in the deadbolt lock. Damien steadied it by covering Haley's hand with his. He twisted the key still gripped in her fingers and opened the door.

Haley stepped inside and waited for Damien to follow and close the door behind him. She pressed him against the door with her body. "Damien..."

His mouth slanted over hers hungrily. Haley gripped the lapels of his jacket briefly, fingers taut for a moment before they flattened against Damien's chest for a glancing caress before sliding up. His hair sifted through her fingers before she tugged gently. Her mouth opened willingly, tongue thrusting to meet his, to chase it back into his mouth.

Damien's arms wound around her. One hand pressed against the small of Haley's back, bringing her securely against his body.

Haley moaned softly.

His hand drifted lower, gripping beneath her shapely bottom and lifting her. Haley's thighs gripped his hips as she ground against him. Damien's left hand fumbled for the hem of her skirt until it slipped beneath it. His fingers caressed the bare underside of Haley's thigh, soft and smooth and hot.

She broke the kiss on a gasp.

"Baby," he murmured. "No... not like this."

Haley locked her arms behind his neck, her ankles behind his back. "Yes," she whispered. "Please...I need you."

Damien groaned. "I want you so much, but this isn't right, sweetheart. We came here to pick up whatever it is you needed from the house. Teddy's outside waiting for us. If we keep going..."

"Send him away. Stay here with me."

"Haley, I can't. I want you to come back to the penthouse."

"Where your mother serves as a convenient chaperon? Or is she reminding you that I'm not good enough for her son?"

His grip on her tightened. "My mother doesn't chaperon me, Haley, and if she's concerned about heartache, it's concern for both of us, not just me."

Her eyes widened. "Why? Does she think you'll hurt me?"

"She's a mother, and she looks at the world through that unique lens. Do you want to hurt me?"

"Of course not!"

"And I don't want to hurt you either. Sometimes, it just happens, honey. Jumping into this right now, it's bound to cause complications that I don't think either one of us can deal with or should even try at this point."

"What complications?"

Damien felt the grip of her thighs against his hips relax and slowly eased her back to the floor. When Haley stepped back, he exhaled heavily. Should he tell her the truth now?

No. He promised he'd see her through Delia's funeral—or scattering her ashes as her last wishes stipulated. One hand slid through his hair.

"What haven't you told me?" she whispered as she slowly backed away from him.

"Haley, I stood in this room a few days ago, and you made it perfectly clear to me that you weren't interested in ever laying eyes on me again. You're hurting. The only family you ever really had is gone now."

"And you think that's why I've had a change of heart where you're concerned? Because I sold my body, so now I'm trying to do what? Give myself to the first man who comes along so I don't feel so alone?"

"Well...are you?"

Haley dashed angry tears from her cheeks. "Maybe you're only doing all of this for me because you think I'll let you fuck me if you're nice enough to me."

Damien took a quick step toward her. "If that were true, would we be standing her having this conversation or would I be _fucking_ you?" he snarled.

She winced.

"Haley," he sighed heavily. "Just...pack a bag and let's get back to my penthouse."

She shook her head slowly. "If this situation is so complicated, perhaps we should simply _un_ -complicate it. Go our separate ways. You do your thing, and I do mine."

Damien scowled. "What does that mean?"

"Go back to your life. That's what it means. You don't have to play protector to me. I'll...I'll figure this out on my own, just like I always have."

He separated the distance between them swiftly and pulled Haley back into his arms. "Unacceptable," he whispered. "Listen to me carefully, Haley. When I told you that I wanted you, it wasn't a lie, but I won't settle for some fling."

"You—"

"I have feelings for you, Haley. Real feelings, and I'm not talking about lust. I can't explain it, because I've never been in this situation before. But I feel a sort of desperation not to screw this up."

"I don't know what to say."

"Just don't lie to me and try to convince me that what you feel right now comes close to where I'm at. I know it's not the same. It's not fair to either one of us to pretend, either. Baby, I'm not trying to be cruel, but if I take you to bed right now, it'll mean something entirely different to me than it does to you."

Her fingers stroked his face, sifted through his hair. Haley nodded. "I understand. I'm sorry, Damien."

"Will you come back home with me? I meant what I said. I promised I'd help you through losing Delia. I can't do that if you just hole up here alone or disappear."

She nodded. "Okay. Give me a few minutes. I'll pack some of my things."

"You'll need your passport too," he said. "Holmes said it would be a couple of days...and then we'll go to France."

"I'll be a few minutes," Haley said.

"Take your time." Damien watched her slip away and shook his head. This house...Christ it was nothing but bad luck every time he walked through the front door.

Chapter 13

It was close to two in the morning before Damien, exhausted from not only the emotional upheaval of having Haley's tragedy under his roof but the neglected business of his casinos, dragged himself from the office to his bedroom.

Haley had been quiet, kept herself secluded mostly in her room—except for meals—for the remainder of the day and evening. Damien was tempted to check on her before turning in for the night, but sighed and moved away from her door across the hall to his bedroom.

He gasped softly when he opened the door.

She was curled up in the middle of the bed, his pillow hugged to her chest, sleeping soundly.

_God help me. This is gonna kill me if she crawls in my bed every night_ , he thought with more than a tinge of bitter frustration. He trudged to the bureau and pulled out a pair of pajama bottoms, wondering if he'd ever be able to just strip down and go to bed like he used to do.

Not with a needy girl in the house. Absolutely not. She'd see what she does to me, and it would send her scurrying off to hide somewhere.

Still, she had to have felt how much she affected him earlier in the car and then inside her house.

With another sigh, Damien went to the bathroom, brushed his teeth and splashed cold water in his face. Sleep was highly overrated. But if that were really true, he wouldn't be so damned tired right now.

He grabbed another pillow from the shelf in his closet and made his way to the bed. Maybe she'd sleep tonight without realizing she was no longer alone.

Damien frowned. What made her come in here in the first place? He presumed that his blunt confession earlier had been completely understood. Yet here she was again, tempting him with her soft skin and sweet scent.

He climbed carefully into the bed and rolled to his side, away from Haley. It was pointless. The second his weight settled, she plastered herself to his back.

"It's late," she mumbled.

"Yes."

"I had a nightmare...I came looking for you, but you weren't here."

Damien rolled onto his back. "Are you all right?"

"Your pillow smells like you. I think it tricked my brain into believing I wasn't really alone," Haley whispered.

He opened his arms, and she abandoned the pillow and snuggled against his chest. Damien's fingers sifted through her hair. "You should've come downstairs. I was in the office, but I could've come up here if you needed me."

"I didn't want to interrupt you. I know that there are a lot of people who depend on you around here. It's not fair for me to take you away from your responsibilities. Besides," she mumbled around a yawn, "the pillow thing worked."

"Go back to sleep," he murmured. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"Is everything all right—with the business, I mean?" she asked softly. "I don't want to screw up your life with my issues."

"Everything's fine. Well, except I'm having a hard time with an acquisition for the museum," he said.

She lifted her head. "You have a museum?"

"Yes," he said. "It's small, but respectable. Mostly art, but I've been trying to expand and attract special exhibits. They're quite lucrative, you see, and I'd like to see the casinos expand and draw in more tourist visits in addition to the high rollers."

"What exhibit are you going after?"

"I'd like to get BODIES," he said, "but it's locked up with the competition for the foreseeable future."

He felt Haley's frown against his chest.

"I think we could get the Pompeii exhibit in the next couple of years, but the one I'm really after right now is sort of unique...a manmade coral reef. It's been a nightmare though, because they want me to construct an enormous habitat, and they'll basically design one that will remain onsite as part of the resort complex," he said. "The problem is, they sent me some specs for the construction and I really don't know if they're bilking me or if these requirements are truly legitimate."

"I could look at them," she said softly.

"You could?"

"I majored in biology in college, Damien. I'm not entirely clueless, even though I don't have a graduate degree."

"I'm curious. What made you pick biology, Haley?"

She lifted one shoulder. "I was always good at math and science. I guess I thought one day I might help mold young minds."

"You wanted to teach? I thought you said—"

"I couldn't make enough money doing that to support Nana," she said. "And my parents truly left her with nothing. Mostly she only got free room and board and all of her travel expenses paid. They barely paid her anything, and she took care of me for a very long time."

Haley paused and sighed. "And now? Well, nobody would hire me to teach children. Imagine the scandal when the truth about what I used to do for a living came out."

Damien displaced her and rolled to his side, facing her this time. "What makes you think anybody would find out? Is this because of what I said to you last weekend? Haley, nobody knows the truth except for you and me. Nana knew, but even if she were still here, do you honestly think she'd expose you?"

"What if one of the parents...I mean, someone recognized me?" she whispered.

"Then they'd have to expose themselves in the process of exposing you. It's not like you were making pornographic movies." His eyes narrowed, "Or were you?"

Haley blushed. "Nothing that was ever for sale."

"You recorded your clients?" his eyes darkened perceptibly, even though the room was nearly pitch black.

"In case something ever happened to me, so the police would know..."

"Baby..." emotion choked in his throat.

"I didn't keep them, well, a couple of them I kept. Not all of my clients were trustworthy, so I wanted the insurance, just in case something ever happened to me."

Damien grinned. "Then you kept the tape of us."

She flushed and almost lit the room with her embarrassment.

"I considered that, you know," Damien said softly.

"That I secretly recorded my clients?"

"No," he chuckled. "That you were too scared to respond to me the way I wanted. This damned reputation of mine."

"May I ask you something?"

"Of course," Damien said.

"How did you...I mean, why do people say...um..."

"Why do they say I'm a criminal that'll destroy anyone in his path if the debts aren't paid, that I target people I know can't afford to lose much and take everything from them?"

Haley nodded.

"I suppose it came from sour grapes, you know. People who simply didn't want to pay what they owed the casinos. In the beginning, I was a lot less...selective, I suppose you'd say, about who we advanced credit to. The more the businesses grew, the more weary I got of people who wanted credit without ever repaying what they owed, so the most we ever advance anyone now is five percent."

She gasped. "Of their net worth?"

He laughed softly. "No, Haley, I'll advance five percent of what they qualify for in terms of credit."

"So if I could get a ten thousand dollar loan at a bank, you'd only advance me five percent of that amount?"

"Right," Damien said. "Basically, anybody who wants casino credit has to apply like they would for the loan."

"But if I qualified for a million dollars, I could still be in a lot of trouble financially."

"If you could walk into a bank and get a million dollar loan, fifty grand is probably pocket change to you," Damien said. "Basically, my policy on casino credit has made it unfavorable to most people. It's granted in such low amounts with credit card-like interest, that nobody wants that kind of loan."

"You've talked about _casinos_ , tonight. You have more than this one?" she asked.

Damien swallowed the lump that suddenly grew in his throat. "I have this one, another out west and one in Europe."

"Monte Carlo?" she whispered.

"It used to be much more focused on the gambling aspect of the business," he said with a curt nod. "For the past several years, we've shifted to more of a luxury resort paradigm. Would you like to see it when we go to France?"

She didn't answer his question, instead, asked another of her own. "How old were you when you got into this business?"

Damien grinned. "Why?"

Haley shrugged. "You seem awfully young to be as successful as you are."

He wasn't sure why that made him feel so good, but it did. Damien slid his hand around her waist and pulled her fractionally closer. "You think I'm young?"

"You said you're thirty-eight," Haley said softly. "That's pretty young all things considered. I mean, everybody in the city knows how successful this place is. And yet you've got two more."

"I won a very lucky hand of high-stakes poker about twenty years ago," Damien said. "If I'd lost, I'd have been a pauper."

"At eighteen?" she gasped. "You weren't even old enough to...I mean...don't you have to be twenty-one to gamble like that?"

"I didn't say it was in a gaming house," Damien chuckled. "I ran with a different crowd back then. And I was cocky as hell. Of course, I got worked over pretty good after I won—just to make sure I hadn't cheated, but in the end, I won this casino. My uncle—"

"The one who died?"

Damien nodded. "If it hadn't been for him, I still would've lost everything. He taught me how to turn the business into a success. Within a couple of years, I had all three casinos. He was a shrewd businessman...taught me everything I knew up to a point."

"What does that mean?" Haley asked.

"He objected to my lending practices back then," Damien said quietly. "He was right of course. I suppose in a way, I felt as responsible for his death as the idiot who had no self control and lost everything and hurt my uncle so deeply."

Haley gasped softly. "You mean...this businessman lost everything to _you_?"

"No," Damien's lie was clipped. "But there were others like that guy. At the time, I didn't agree. I mean, a man makes his own choices. If he comes to a gaming house and loses his shirt, nobody put a gun to his head and made him keep betting. If they weren't losing their money to me, they'd be losing it to the competition across the street."

"Will you tell me more about this underwater ecosystem you want to have?" she asked.

"I'll do one better," Damien said. "You can look at the proposal yourself in the morning and tell me what you think of it. I've been fighting with these guys about the design and the materials for months, not just the space they want built to create it."

"I'm assuming that this reef won't be created off our coast," Haley said.

"Actually, it's going to be a template for an aquarium I'd like to have installed here, but you're right. This is something for the property in Monaco." He tapped one finger against his lips. "If you're really interested in helping me with this, Haley, it could be exactly what you're looking for in terms of a job that would let you use your skills as a biologist."

"I'm not—"

"I know. You don't have the alphabet soup behind your name, but I do trust you," he said.

"How can you possibly say that? You barely know me."

"Let's just say that in my line of work, I've developed good skills judging people's character quickly," he said. "If you're worried about people recognizing you here, maybe Europe would give you the anonymity you want while you build a new life."

A tiny smile threatened to break. "You'd really do that for me?"

"Yes," without a moment of hesitation.

"I'd have to stay in Europe though." Her teeth clamped down on her lower lip. "And you'd be here."

"I could leave Siobhan in charge here for awhile," Damien said. "On a trial basis, just to see if this is something you'd really want to do, Haley. I wouldn't leave you over there completely alone."

"At least not at first," she whispered.

"Look at the specs in the morning," he said. "And then when we go to France, you can see the proposed site yourself. You don't have to make the decision now, or even after you've been to the resort in Monaco." Damien toyed with her fingers for a moment before lifting her hand to his lips. "Just think about it. Please?"

"I'll think about it," she said. "Although I've never been to Monaco, I didn't think there was a whole lot of beachfront property there. I'm not sure how creating a reef—"

"I have enough. We'd like to expand what's there as organically as possible, and creating a reef will help do that," Damien said. "The government is all for it. Anything that attracts more high dollar tourism is a good thing."

Her eyes sparkled in the faint light. "It sounds like a very...lofty project, Damien."

"Then you are interested?"

She nodded. "I'd be insane to say no—at least to having a look at the proposal. Thank you for thinking of me."

His grin of delight was spoiled by a gaping yawn.

"You're exhausted," Haley murmured. "Go to sleep, Damien."

Chapter 14

Siobhan shook her head. "No, no, no. This is a terrible plan, Damien. You can't possibly believe that whisking her away to Europe solves anything. It compounds the problem exponentially. The dealings between her family and your casino are absolutely still in the minds of everyone over there. That property prospered and benefited greatly from even partial repayment of what Templeton owed!"

"Mother, you need to let me handle this," Damien said.

"Handle it? You're acting from some weak, tender and misguided notion that you owe this girl something. I am telling you now—you owe her _nothing_ , Damien!"

"I know."

"Then why are you doing this? Is this some foolhardy need you feel to gamble again? Because you're laying your entire future on the line here, boy. Think about what you're doing for Christ's sake!"

"Mother, I can't explain it. I know you think I'm being ridiculous, but I'm telling you, this has nothing to do with guilt. If you'd take a day...just one day of your life, and look at her, see who she really is, maybe you'd understand it."

"I understand that something good doesn't come from the nastiness that was Geoffrey Templeton," she muttered.

"That's not fair. And what would you do if someone said something like that about me because of my father?"

"I'd say that your mother gave you everything good that you have," she said stubbornly. "Something we certainly can't say about that bimbo Geoffrey married. And I'm sure you know what I think she passed on to _her_ daughter."

Damien's eyes glittered dangerously. "I'm not asking for your blessing, Ma. I'm asking you to look after the business stateside while I'm in Europe. Nothing more, nothing less. If you can't do that, I can always put someone else in charge. Samson perhaps. He's been nothing but impressive—"

"You will do no such thing!" she gasped. "I'll manage the casinos here, but I'm warning you, Damien. When you come home crushed with your reputation in tatters once again, I'll not soothe you and tell you the world was wrong and you were right. This girl is nothing but trouble, and you'd best get yourself under control. Bed her if you must, but do it and be done with it."

"You think this is my libido?" he gaped at her. "God, Ma, what's wrong with you?"

Siobhan's eyes narrowed. "You're in love with her, then? After knowing her, what, a week?" she snorted loudly. "Not even I'm stupid enough to believe that."

"I'm not saying that," Damien growled.

"Then what is it if not guilt or plain old lust?"

"I don't know," he sighed wearily and raked one hand through his hair. "I just...I don't know."

"But you suspect something?" she pressed.

"Mother, I feel things that I've never felt before in my life. How the hell am I supposed to know what it means? I'd like some time and space to figure it out without you nagging me every step of the way. Is that asking too much?"

Siobhan stepped closer to her son. "What sort of things do you feel when you're with her, boy-o? Has she got you thinking of hearth and home and babies?"

"Yes," he whispered. "And protecting her from the ugliness that's been the only thing she's ever known in her life."

Her jaw dropped. "Are you...are you serious, Damien? You'd have children with this woman?"

Damien clenched his fists and winced at the pain that lanced through his right hand. "Mother, I can't think of anything I want more if you must know. Every time I see her, every time she looks at me, I'm plagued with this...this vision of her carrying my baby. It's making me insane, or at least that's what I'm afraid of. But if I'm ever going to figure out what any of this means, I need time and space. And...and if there's a future possible between us, it cannot be based upon a lie. I have to tell her the truth."

"If you do, she'll run away from you so fast, it'll be like she was never here," Siobhan predicted.

"Then she'll run, but it'll be her choice, and it'll be with full knowledge on both our parts of the truth."

"Meaning what exactly?" Siobhan reached out and grabbed his right wrist. She peered down at the bright red spots leeching through the gauze. "Ah, dammit, boy. You've injured this laceration again."

"Forget about my little cut," he snarled.

"What did you mean you'll _both_ know the truth?" Siobhan returned to her original question.

"I mean, I hope I'll figure out why all of a sudden I can't seem to think about anything but Haley, and she'll figure out that despite the past connection between our families, she's not her parents any more than I am responsible for what happened to them."

"You never told me what happened, Damien. They were so deeply indebted to you, to the company. Why in the name of God did you let them take one of the yachts out that day?"

"I didn't," he whispered, and then cleared his throat. "They lied to gain access to it, had forged my signature. I suspected when I learned what happened, that it was the first step in an elaborate plan to bilk both the casino and me personally out of a fortune. Unfortunately, we'll never know, but rest assured, had they survived that fatal voyage—joyride if you will—I'd have ruined them just the same, Mother."

"But this unnamed emotion you feel for the girl, it has nothing to do with that?" she asked softly. "Damien, open your eyes. See this mistake for what it is before it's too late."

"And what do you think it is? Still guilt?"

Siobhan shook her head. "What if it's revenge?"

"She was a child, Ma, and I have no doubt whatsoever that their original plan involved robbing Haley of the only thing her grandfather gave her that she couldn't touch—that education trust. She told me that they showed up unexpectedly at her boarding school shortly before they died. And did you know that they let that child believe her grandfather died before she was old enough to remember him?"

Siobhan frowned. "Truly?"

He nodded.

"What sort of monster does that kind of thing? Harmon hasn't been in his grave more than what, fifteen years?"

"Not quite that long," Damien said. "And given the suspicious circumstances of his death, I wonder now if Geoffrey didn't have a hand in it. We all knew that the old man was trying to regain control of the company before Geoffrey completely ran it into the ground."

Siobhan nodded. "How does a man burn through a billion dollars in less than a decade?"

"Slower than he did the last billion in five years," Damien said. "If Haley learns the truth, no, _when_ she learns the truth, I'd rather it come from me, Mother. At least then I'll know there haven't been gross embellishments. What she chooses to do at that point is her decision, and I'll accept it. But until then, I'll do everything in my power to see to it that she has a real chance at a new beginning, one of _her_ choosing."

"When are you leaving for Monaco?"

"France first," Damien said. "Her parents had an estate near Nice. Delia Trenton wants her ashes scattered in the garden there."

"You mean... _your_ Nice estate?"

He smiled thinly. "Another detail that Haley doesn't need to know just yet, Mother. So I'll thank you to keep that little tidbit of information to yourself."

"Fire," she whispered. "You're playing with fire, boy-o."

"You're probably right," he muttered. "And I fully expect to get burned badly, but at least my conscience will be clear."

Chapter 15

Haley watched the luggage being loaded from inside the confines of Damien's car as it waited on the tarmac for the stairs to be positioned against his private jet. It began to sink in, how very wealthy Damien must be. He hadn't been joking when he told her that half a million dollars wasn't going to put a dent in his portfolio.

She wondered about the man standing outside the car now, talking to his driver. A lucky hand of poker as a teenager had been the beginning of all of this, his empire of wealth.

Haley couldn't believe the amount of luggage Damien's ground crew was loading into the jet. She expected a brief stay in Europe, but this looked like Damien planned to relocate indefinitely.

The car door popped open, and Damien's still bandaged hand extended to her. "The jet is ready, Haley. We should board now."

She barely touched the tips of his fingers as she climbed out of the car. Wind whipped her hair in her face and caught the hem of her long skirt, twisting it around her ankles. She shivered.

Damien wrapped one arm around her shoulders and led her quickly to the jet. Inside, he gestured toward the plush seating and paused a moment to talk to one of the flight crew before he joined her.

"Is everything all right?" she asked.

"Fine," he said. "You're cold."

Almost before the words were out of his mouth, the flight attendant appeared with a steaming beverage. "To warm you up, miss," she said with a friendly smile.

Haley took the cup and sniffed. "Caramel latte?"

Damien flushed. "I noticed that you liked Mother's coffee. Between the two of you, I think you nearly emptied an entire box of K-cups yesterday."

Haley smiled and sipped the brew. "Thank you."

"We didn't have a chance to talk about your thoughts on the project in Monte Carlo," Damien said. "It seems like everything happened very quickly yesterday."

"You were busy with your mother yesterday morning," she said softly.

"Please tell me that she wasn't accosting you again after we finished going over the current issues at the casino," Damien sighed. "She means well—most of the time. Others, she's just an enormous headache."

"She was actually very kind to me," Haley said. "I didn't think she liked me very much after the first night I spent in your home, but yesterday was...different."

Damien relaxed. "Good."

"She asked me to look after you," Haley admitted. "She says that you tend to get so wrapped up in business that you don't take care of yourself very well."

Damien chuckled. "Is that a fact?"

She nodded. "Siobhan said that there have been times where you didn't eat or sleep for days because you were so busy. I guess maybe she was trying to prepare me for the fact that I may not see a whole lot of you while we're in Europe."

"I expect you'll have to ask for time alone," Damien grinned. "But she's right about how absorbed I can become in work. We'll be working together though, so I doubt I'll forget to eat and sleep this time."

"Oh?"

"You're too thin, Haley. All I have to do is look at you and it reminds me that food is necessary, for both of us." He added with a wink, "And yawning is contagious. When you're tired, I have this inexplicable compulsion to sleep too."

Haley blushed. "So I am keeping you from your work."

"Actually, I think all this sleep I've had since you graced me with your company has been very good for me. I'm experiencing a mental clarity I haven't felt in years."

She sipped her coffee, the cup trembling in her hand. "Are you saying that all of my tragedy has been good for you?"

"No. Nothing that hurts you could ever make me happy, Haley. But having you here with me, well that has been a very pleasant experience, one I hope we can continue for a long time.

"But I really would like you to tell me what you thought of this project in Monte Carlo."

"I think that adding to the existing habitat probably puts the organic at risk."

Damien frowned. "I see."

"But, if you were to be patient and build a reef in an area that doesn't already have one, the benefits over time would be tremendous."

"Haley, I don't have a whole lot of property that isn't already beachfront. Well, I've got space in the marina where the company has some pleasure cruises available, but that's hardly where we'd want to—"

"Then what about another location all together?" she asked.

"You're talking about an acquisition in an area that very seldom has ownership changes."

"Not if you considered somewhere like Malta," she said softly. "They have an established casino community, but there isn't much beach to speak of on the entire island. If you were to develop additional ecosystem development, it could generate an entirely new concept of resort in that country."

"Hmm," he tapped his index finger against his lower lip. "Interesting idea, I'd say. In the meantime, did you finish reading the entire proposal?"

"For the aquarium inside the resort?" Haley nodded enthusiastically. "Of course, you're going to want a salt water environment, and their space estimates were a little exaggerated I thought, but if you really want something on that scale, you could actually create an organic habitat in that space that could even offer guests diving and snorkeling experiences. I considered briefly that if you had non-beach property at all that you could do something similar—not to create more beach, mind you, but to provide a very unique and safe habitat for the guests to experience the Mediterranean in ways they might not otherwise get without going far out at sea."

"Now that's an idea we could work with," Damien said. "I do have...well, you'll see it after we get to the resort. I want you to take a look and give me your unvarnished opinion. And I'm intrigued by the notion of a resort in Malta. It's a popular destination already, but in terms of establishing more reef to aid in beachfront development, I'm not sure it would be successful. The islands are quite rocky."

He paused for a moment. "Have you ever been there, Haley?"

"Never," she said. "I spent most of my time abroad at the estate outside Nice. Once, Nana and I took the train to Paris. I was completely enchanted."

"How old were you?" he asked.

"Nine," she said. "I told Nana that I wanted my parents to buy Versailles so we could live there forever."

"You sound like you were a very precocious child."

"Exasperating, or at least that's what Nana said. I loved our villa near Nice though. It wasn't ostentatious like Versailles, but it was still beautiful."

"It's leased to vacationers now," Damien said. "I made a few calls yesterday afternoon."

"Oh."

"I thought you might enjoy spending a few nights there, but if you don't want to, I can cancel the lease," Damien said.

Her eyes widened and focused on him. "You mean..."

"I thought we'd spend the week there, let you find the right moment to say goodbye to Nana in the garden, decide on which place she'd like best, and then we could go to the resort in Monaco. If you'd rather not—"

"I love the idea!" she practically squealed. Haley dropped her half-filled coffee into the beverage tray and threw her arms around Damien's neck. "Thank you so much, Damien!"

"If you'd like, we could just...stay at the villa. It's about a thirty minute drive to Monte Carlo anyway," Damien said softly.

Her gaze softened, eyes misted with emotion. "I think you're the kindest, most wonderful human being I've ever known. Yes. I'd love to stay in my old home."

"It's probably quite a bit different than you remember," Damien said. Hadn't she told him she was ten years old the last time she'd stayed there? Of course, he hadn't acquired the property immediately, only about three years ago. It had been used as a rental since Templeton lost it, and required significant repairs. When Damien purchased it, he had no idea of the history beyond the fact that it had once been Geoffrey Templeton's villa estate and had been the first of many holdings to fall.

The rationale for buying the place had been somewhat far removed from the notion that he'd ever bring Haley back to her childhood home one day. On the contrary, Damien knew another history of that villa, one that involved Haley's grandfather and his uncle (probably his grandfather too, truth be told, but Siobhan had always been rather tight-lipped about that relationship).

"Damien?" she said softly.

His focus snapped back into reality.

"You seemed a million miles away."

"Siobhan told me something, Haley."

"Oh?" a tiny frown creased the bridge of her nose.

Damien couldn't resist. His finger smoothed over the puckered flesh until she relaxed and smiled shyly.

"Yes," he said. "Something interesting, I suppose. Our grandfathers knew each other a very long time ago."

Her eyes brightened. "Did she know my grandfather?"

Damien shook his head. "I don't know about that, but she said that her father always spoke very highly of your grandfather."

"You said he was a very respected man. Nana used to tell me the same thing."

"Did she talk about your parents to you much?" Damien asked.

Haley sighed, and the light in her eyes faded. "I didn't know what it meant at the time, but I thought it sounded very important. She used to say my father was a ne'er-do-well. She blamed them in part, you see, my parents. She said that no matter how ruthless the creditors were after my parents died that the truth of the matter was, it was their fault that everything was gone. She used to say that _Harmon would be rolling in his grave if he knew what really happened._ "

"What _really_ happened?"

Haley nodded. "Of course she never shared that information with me, just that Mother and Father had been killed in a horrible tragedy, and that nothing was left except for the trust Grandfather set aside for my education."

"Did you ever learn the details of their death?" he asked gently.

"Oh yes. Nana wouldn't talk about it of course, but by the time I got to college, information was just a search engine away. They were murdered, sort of a grisly event. Some people speculated that if Father hadn't been flat broke, the measly million dollars the kidnappers requested would've resolved the whole thing without any bloodshed."

Damien frowned. "Surely they asked for more than that."

"No...that was it. When I was twenty-one, I requested the official police report. The ransom note asked for one million dollars. Ironically, at that time, my education trust would've covered just under half of the ransom. Barely, but it might've been enough to save their lives."

Damien scowled. "They tried to get that money, didn't they?"

"No," Haley said. "Nana told me that it wasn't part of my parent's portfolio anyway, but that there wasn't enough time to liquidate any other assets, so the kidnappers killed them. They were never caught, so there was never an explanation why they killed my parents—or where they dumped their bodies even. All that was left was the..." she shuddered, "the blood on that yacht."

He remembered. Clearly.

"I'm not sure why they didn't just steal the yacht. Surely they could've stripped it and sold it off bit by bit. As I recall, the police said it was worth several million dollars."

"The yacht didn't belong to your parents then?"

Haley laughed softly. "No. What Nana didn't know, and I learned a couple of years ago, was that there were barely any assets left to sell off. My parents were weeks away from financial ruin when they died. I suppose it was preferable to them to die than to live like paupers. I had no idea exactly how much money they once had until you mentioned it. I can't imagine being so foolish with investments that one could lose so much money in such a short amount of time. I'm sure it took my grandfather a lifetime of hard work to amass his fortune."

"A lot of people wondered about that, Haley," he said.

She sighed. "Well, it doesn't do me any good to dwell on it. The money would've been gone before I was old enough to inherit anyway. Maybe that's what Nana meant—what would make Grandfather roll over in his grave."

Damien cleared his throat. "I'm a little more familiar with the incident than you know, Haley. You see, that yacht belonged to my resort in Monte Carlo."

She gasped. "No!"

"It did," he said. "Of course it was taken without my authorization, but the police even questioned me about it. They wanted to know by what means your parents secured use of it."

"And? How did they? Oh please don't tell me that's how they spent their last bit of cash."

"My signature was—for lack of a better explanation—forged. Your parents were basically joyriding in my company's top of the line yacht when tragedy struck. Of course none of my people would've been foolish enough to take her so far out to sea without a full contingent of security staff. Private craft like that have been targeted often over the years."

"Damien," Haley said slowly, "did you know my parents?"

"I met them on several occasions," he admitted. "Does that matter?"

Haley fell silent for several long, tense moments. And then she said, "You probably knew them better than I did. What were they like?"

Greedy. Soulless. Corrupt. Hedonistic.

Damien nearly choked on the truth, but was given a brief reprieve when the captain's voice sounded that they'd been cleared for takeoff and that they should prepare for departure.

"Damien?"

"I knew who they were, Haley. You have to understand. I've had thousands of clients visit my resort and casinos. It seems that only the troublemakers make my personal acquaintance."

He left out the truth—that when problem patrons were involved a decade ago, Geoffrey and Clarissa Templeton were absolutely at the top of his list.

"But they probably owed you money when they died, didn't they?"

Damien wanted to dash off the plane before it was airborne. Instead, he braved it out, blazed the path to the inevitable questions that would come. "Yes, Haley, they owed me money."

"A lot of money?"

He nodded curtly.

"How much?"

"What difference does any of that make now?" he snapped. "It's ancient history, Haley."

She smiled softly. "Well, if it was a very large amount, I suppose it would mean I should take it into consideration when I ask you if you plan to pay me a salary if I go to work for you."

He relaxed and glanced at her. Mischief danced in her eyes. It melted his ire, the inevitable discomfort that swelled in his chest whenever he thought she might learn the truth and hate him because of it.

"I would give you everything," he whispered.

"Somehow, it feels like you already have." She reached over and threaded their fingers together. "Would it be rude if I take a nap?"

"Wait until we're in flight," Damien said. "In the back, there's a suite. You'll be much more comfortable in the bed."

She grinned. "You surprise me. I'd have never guessed that you've got this flying penthouse at your beck and call."

"Technically, it's the corporate jet. There are benefits to being the sole owner of the corporation though. But I do have other executives who use this."

"Somehow, I get the feeling that your wealth puts my family's former to shame."

Damien didn't respond, not when the truth of the matter meant revealing that he'd have lost everything too, without the sudden infusion of two hundred million dollars that should've been hers.

Chapter 16

Haley found their carry on luggage tucked away inside the closet in the small bedroom. Actually, the room wasn't all that small, it just seemed that way because of the domination of the enormous bed.

She grabbed Damien's bag and dug through it until she found a t-shirt. Yes, she'd packed her own nightgowns, but if he was spending the remainder of the flight absorbed in business rather than offering her the security of his warmth beside her, the t-shirt was the next best thing. She held it to her face and inhaled deeply.

Even though it was clean, and he'd not worn it yet, it still smelled like him. Musky and dark, but safe and comfortable too.

Did comfort have a scent? Haley wasn't sure, but the emotions he evoked whenever she was near him certainly were that—comfort and safety.

She slipped out of her clothing, every last stitch of it, and donned the soft, worn t-shirt. Yes, it was like being wrapped in him, not just his clothing. A delicious shiver rippled through her again. If only he'd see her as more than the grieving daughter...

She hadn't ever denied how attractive he was, not from the moment she'd laid eyes on him. Of course his arrogance that night had challenged her, muted that initial and visceral attraction. But now she was seeing past all of that, seeing the man who had a sensitive side, the one who seemed so hell bent on protecting her from the truth.

Oh yes, Haley knew that her parents were bottom-feeders. She wondered if her grandfather had seen them that way before he handed over the kingdom to them. She was shocked to learn exactly how much money had been squandered, but not surprised at all that they'd lost every cent of it.

Home with them two times, wasn't that what she confessed to Damien? One Christmas when she was about five years old, and then her thirteenth birthday.

What she neglected to mention to Damien was that both events had been about parading their beautiful child—the bright-eyed stranger—in front of a bunch of wealthy old men who were reminded at every opportunity of how her beauty would only increase with age.

At the time, it was bothersome, creepy even, but now Haley saw it for what it really was. Her parents, running low on cash almost immediately, were looking to fob her off on some wealthy old man in the hopes of adding to their own coffers.

It was disgusting.

But she let Nana paint the beautiful delusion of parents who truly did love her anyway. She didn't argue, even though the sadness in her eyes betrayed that she knew the truth.

And she did know it. Question was, why was Damien so nervous about admitting his role in her family's past?

It was a surprise to learn that it began long ago between their grandfathers, but Haley already knew that Damien had barely gotten back a quarter of the fortune owed him by her parents. Was he afraid to tell her the truth?

It nagged her, from the moment that obscene deposit showed up in her bank account, that perhaps he was trying to pay her off, make her go away so she wouldn't demand a bigger cut.

The most offensive part of that thought was that he'd assume she was a chip off the old block, that she would demand something when to her way of seeing things, she was still indebted to Damien DeMarcus, at least on behalf of her family.

"I could be flat on my back for the rest of my life and still never earn enough to pay back what my parents stole from him," she muttered bitterly.

That was the other part of the plan—make a pile of money and work to not just repay more of her parent's debt, but to _earn_ the respect that used to accompany the name Templeton, a name that her parents destroyed.

She climbed under the covers on the bed and rolled to the center, closing her eyes while the thoughts pinged about in her brain. Of course it was a ridiculous goal, but the gesture would've mattered.

Then again, perhaps not. Nobody wanted a whore's money.

She was about to crawl back out of bed, when the click of the latch on the door snagged her attention.

Haley ached to open her eyes and peek. Was this some over-curious flight crew getting a closer look at the boss's latest conquest? Surely that's what they had to think of her. Damien DeMarcus had a new Jessica.

Weight settled on the edge of the bed behind her.

"Are you asleep?" his soft whisper breathed into her ear.

Haley froze, but kept her eyes closed. _Damien? What's he doing in here? I thought he said he had business to take care of..._

She heard him laugh, a low, deep sound that made butterflies take flight in her belly. His fingers glanced over the sleeve of his t-shirt until they encountered the bare flesh of her upper arm.

"You are so beautiful, Haley."

Tiny gossamer kisses fluttered against her temple and into her hair.

"God help me, but I can't stay away from you."

Her heart slammed a wild rhythm against her breastbone. With pretend and calculated drowsiness, Haley rolled over and let her eyes flutter open.

"I didn't mean to wake you," he said. "I just wanted to make sure you found everything you needed."

She grinned when he rubbed the sleeve of the t-shirt sleeve between finger and thumb.

"It smells like you."

"Haley, you can't say things like that to me. Please."

"Because it makes you want me more?" she asked.

He nodded curtly. "I'm barely hanging on by a thread here as it is."

She crawled out from under the light cover and knelt in the center of the bed. "I'm not grieving today, and I can't think of a single reason why I'd ever want to leave you, Damien. I know who you really are, and I'm not pretending that I'm not attracted to you in every way imaginable. I was that first night, but your arrogance..."

Haley paused and watched him struggle to control his breathing.

"You were so absolutely, annoyingly arrogant that night. It was a real turn off. If you'd been just the tiniest bit more humble, instead of acting like I was some kind of prop you planned to use to educate your ex's new lover, I wouldn't have been able to resist you at all."

"Don't lie to me," he rasped, in visible pain from his arousal. "You told me you detached."

"And there was usually something about the client that helped me do it," she said. "You were no exception. That night, when I first saw you, I felt something..." her fist rested against her chest. "If you'd just shut up, I'd have sent the boy away myself and spent the night with you."

With careful deliberation, Haley tugged the t-shirt up over her head and tossed it aside. "Touch me, Damien. You knew that night that you couldn't arouse me. Touch me now, and see how things have changed."

Damien reached for her, one finger sliding with a soft touch from her collarbone down, between her breasts before it circled her navel lightly. "Haley..."

She grasped the finger and slid it between her thighs, warm and wet, aching for his touch.

"Jesus," he whispered thickly.

"I want you so much, Damien. Please don't push me away again."

She watched anxiously as he pulled his hand away from her. Damien sucked the glistening digit into his mouth and groaned. His eyes fluttered shut.

"Sweet," he murmured. "Sweeter than I remembered."

Haley reached for his shirt and began to slowly unbutton it. He gripped her wrists lightly.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Damien tore his shirt off and had his jeans half undone in seconds. He crawled over the bed and pressed Haley into the mattress. "You're so beautiful, baby."

Haley arched her back. Her nipples, already hard pebbles, rubbed against the fine smattering of chest hair. "Touch me, Damien. Please."

His mouth settled over hers while one hand cupped the full mound of breast and pinched her nipple between his fingers. "You have perfect breasts," he murmured. "So real and beautiful." His mouth slithered down her neck until the turgid peak rubbed over his lips. "No man's land one day," he murmured.

She whimpered and thrust upward until the hard nubbin slid between his lips.

"Will you let me taste it when we have our first child?" he whispered hoarsely. "I want to so much, to share your milk with our baby."

Haley gasped. Her fingers thrust into his hair and pulled his head down against her. "Yes," she gasped. "Oh God yes."

Damien's free hand slid between them. Two fingers thrust into Haley's hot, wet channel and began rubbing slowly, pressing hard, up against her pubic bone as his thumb slithered around her silken clitoris. His mouth sucked and tugged at the nipple. He let his teeth graze lightly.

A moment later, Haley clamped down on his fingers and shrieked his name as she convulsed under his touch.

Damien released her nipple and ate greedily down her belly. His fingers separated her sex, pushed her thighs wide apart with pressure from his elbows. His mouth covered her clit and began sucking softly while his tongue lashed over the throbbing nubbin.

"Oh sweet Jesus!" she wailed as she came again, so hard that her hips rose off the bed and she squirmed to get away from the ruthless ministrations of his mouth.

Damien's arms wrapped around her thighs, holding her open and sealing her to his face firmly while he continued to wring every shattering second of bliss from her body that he could. Her juices oozed out onto his chin as she continued to buck and writhe.

"Please!" she screamed.

With a growl, Damien rose and finished shoving his pants and boxer briefs out of the way. "I don't have a condom."

"I trust you," she panted, still soaring through the aftershocks of the most intense orgasm she'd ever felt.

"Are you on the pill?"

"Yes," she whispered.

"Get off of it. Throw them away."

Another gush of fluid trickled from her little slit. Haley clamped down on her lower lip with her teeth and whimpered. "Really?"

"Yes," he snarled a second before his cock touched her, pressed for entry into the tight channel.

"Oh! Oh, God!" she gasped. "You're..."

"Big?"

"Mm-hmm..." she groaned as he slowly stretched and filled her.

Damien braced himself above her on rigid arms. His muscles bulged with the effort of restraint. "We're going to make beautiful babies together, Haley," he rasped. "As many as you want."

Her muscles seized again, clamped down on him so hard it was almost painful. He waited until the pulsing eased, and then slowly slid deeper, retreated, thrust, pushed deep against her womb.

"You don't need anything fixed down here," he said through gritted teeth. "Christ, you're so tight I can barely move."

"It's you," she whispered. "It's you, Damien."

He eased back again.

"Harder. Make me feel every inch."

"Oh God," he groaned. His hips snapped into her hard, and she shrieked again, one word— _more_.

Damien lost himself in the heat and drenching moisture coating him. He slammed into her, again and again until every muscle in her body tightened, and she sucked breath in her lungs that was released on a high, keening wail.

He held himself deep inside her, and with a groan, gushed hot seed into her belly. A moment later, Damien collapsed onto her, bearing the brunt of his weight on collapsed arms at her sides.

"Oh God," she whispered. "Oh Damien."

Haley's tiny hands slid to his sides and gripped rhythmically. Aftershocks rippled through her muscles, tiny little orgasms that kept cresting and abating over and over.

"Stop squeezing me," Damien moaned. "I'm getting hard again."

"It's not intentional. I think I'm still coming."

He eased out of her and rolled to Haley's side with another moan. "My God..."

Haley turned to her side and stared at him.

"Please don't tell me you regret it already."

"No," she said softly. Her fingers trailed through the soft hair on his chest. "I wonder though, if you meant the things you said to me."

Damien sat up. "Where's your bag?"

"What? In the closet. Why?"

He bounded off the bed and stalked to the closet. A moment later, he tossed the bag on the bed and started rummaging through it until he found the small round disk that contained the only medication Haley had ever taken.

"Is this all you've got with you?"

Eyes wide, Haley nodded.

"Good." Damien disappeared into the bathroom. After a couple of minutes, she heard the toilet flush and he reappeared, the plastic disk open where he smugly revealed that all of the pills were gone. "Believe me now?"

"Oh," she breathed as another wave of arousal shivered through her.

"I figured you out," he whispered, crawling up her body again. "That night in your little den of sin, I turned you on, but it was because I talked about the one thing you really want."

Haley squeezed her eyes shut. "You also said you didn't want children."

"But I do, only with you. So what do you say, sweetheart?"

"I think this is crazy," she murmured. "We barely know each other, Damien."

"We know enough. I've been falling for you from the first night we met. I've never wanted anything more in my life, and that day in your house, when you pushed me away and told me that all you've ever wanted was normal, it was like the clouds parted for me, Haley. I knew that we want the same thing. I don't like my life much anymore—well, not the casino part of my business. I want a home and a wife and children. I want love."

Chapter 17

"Haley?"

She moaned and snuggled deeper into the bed.

"Haley...wake up." Damien shook her shoulder lightly.

"Do you really love me?" she mumbled sleepily.

He froze. Was she dreaming? Or was this another one of those Tommy dreams—

"Damien, I want you too. So much. Touch me again," her hips humped the bed slightly.

_Holy_ —

Damien gripped her shoulder and shook lightly. "Haley, wake up. We're going to land in Nice soon and you need to come back out and buckle up."

Her eyes flew open.

"Hi," he smiled.

"Damien? Where did you...I mean...what?"

"You've been asleep for hours. We're going to land in less than an hour, and Janice suggested I wake you up so you can buckle in before we land...you know, safety first."

Her hand flew to her chest.

"Were you having a bad dream?" Damien itched with curiosity, wondered if she'd confess what sort of dream she'd been having when he woke her.

"No. At least I don't think so." Her face flushed deep pink. "Anyway, if you give me a minute, I'll be right out."

When Haley joined him in the cabin, Damien was sipping cognac and replaying what he'd heard when she was still dreaming. She was still blushing when she sat next to him.

"Everything all right?" he asked.

Haley shrugged. "I'll probably be awake all night after such a long nap. I wish you'd woken me sooner."

"Seat belt," he said softly. "We should be on the ground in a half an hour. Are you hungry?"

Haley fidgeted with her fingers in her lap. "Not really."

"It's about an hour, a little more, from the airport to the villa. We could stop somewhere and have a quiet dinner before we go to the house."

"Are you hungry?" she peeked up at him.

_Ravenous_ , he thought. "We haven't eaten in hours, Haley. I know this is stressful for you. Maybe dinner would be a nice distraction."

"We could have something when we get to the villa," she shrugged. "I'm not sure I feel like being around people...er...strangers."

Damien struggled to conceal his smile. "You'd rather have a quiet dinner alone at the villa? I guess I could call the staff and see what they can whip up."

"Oh, I don't want anyone to go to any trouble," she said.

"I hired them to cater to your every whim, Haley. It's not a problem."

He had his cell phone out of his pocket the moment the flight landed and spoke quickly—in French—outlining his plan for dinner. He tucked it away again and smiled. "All settled. Dinner will be ready for us by the time we get to the villa. We've got to do the customs thing, and they'll have to stow our luggage in the car, so they've got plenty of time to get everything ready by the time we arrive."

"They'll be careful with...everything?"

"Who?" Damien asked.

"I mean with...um..."

Nana. Damien sighed and gripped her hand. "Yes, honey. They'll be very careful with Nana." He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. A soft gasp fell from her lips.

She gently tugged her hand away from his grip.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable."

"You didn't," Haley snapped. "I've just been thinking about what you said before, about needing time to process my grief is all."

"I didn't realize a tiny gesture of comfort was so seductive," Damien said. "I'll be more careful in the future."

By the time they were through customs and into the back of another large, chauffeured vehicle, Haley had fallen completely silent. Damien called the villa again, with more instructions regarding dinner, and then checked in with his chief operating officer at the hotel and casino in Monte Carlo.

The second call, he made a point of speaking in English.

"Hey, Edward, it's Damien. We landed about an hour ago and are en route to the villa right now."

"Fantastic! How long will you be in residence there before moving to the hotel?"

"Me? Probably three or four days. I've already told Ms. Templeton she's welcome to stay in the villa as long as she likes. How is the situation we discussed yesterday?"

"Situation?" Edward echoed.

"I'd like the updated specs for the botanic garden and aquarium by week's end," Damien said.

"Oh, _that_ situation. Uh, having something put together by Friday could be a problem, Damien. We've really got no space for the scale of what you proposed, but to have—"

"Great news," Damien said. "I know you're the man for the job, Edward."

"Is this your way of telling me in some sort of code that it doesn't matter if we have a quality presentation on Friday? Because if that's what you're saying, I'm delighted to report that's all we'll be able to come up with on such short notice, Damien."

"Perfect. I look forward to seeing it. I think Ms. Templeton plans to settle in for the next day or two, so I shouldn't have any problems getting to the property in the morning. If you could have the team ready by seven-thirty, we'll have an early morning meeting over breakfast, and you can spend the rest of the morning showing me how the renovations are coming along."

Edward chuckled. "Renovations. Okay, Boss. We'll see what we can throw together overnight. I don't know what the plan really is here, but I'm not stupid. I'll play along, but you're gonna have to give me more information when we talk over breakfast."

"Great. See you then." Damien ended the call and stuffed his phone back into his pocket.

"Am I keeping you from business?" Haley asked quietly.

"Not at all. In fact, this trip gave me the opportunity to see how things are progressing overseas firsthand, rather than counting on Edward's reports. You'll be all right alone for a few hours in the morning, won't you?"

Haley's eyes clouded, remembrance perhaps of being left alone at the villa so many times in the past, only without Nana or any of her childhood friends there to keep her company. Still, she nodded. "Of course. I wouldn't want to keep you from work."

A tiny spark of doubt flickered in Damien's mind before he committed to the ruse. "Good. We'll get you home, fed and tucked into bed for the night, and then tomorrow, you can spend the morning perhaps finding the spot that Nana wanted for her final rest...we can talk about it over lunch, how you want to memorialize her."

"Alone," she said softly.

"Excuse me?"

"I want to memorialize her alone, Mr. DeMarcus. Nana and I basically had each other and no one else in the world. It's fitting that I honor her last wishes alone, to say my goodbye to her in private. It's what she would've wanted."

Damien frowned. "Haley, I thought—"

"Please," she interrupted. "Don't argue with me. I'll do this on my own. I don't have anyone left here anyway, nor did Nana have anyone left but me."

He watched her emotional retreat again with a sinking sense of despair that settled in the pit of his stomach. Maybe he shouldn't have toyed with her, made her feel that Nana's death simply provided a convenient excuse for more work. Damien wanted to pull her into his lap and hold her, shower her with kisses and promises that she wasn't alone now, and would never be alone again unless it was what she really wanted. In her current mood though, he was certain she would swear that was exactly what she had in mind.

"Besides," she continued with a sad sigh, "you've already done more than you needed to. I...I should confess something."

"What?" he couldn't have hid his wariness if he tried.

"I know that my parents owed you a great deal of money when they died. I guess that was part of why Nana despised you so much. Maybe she thought they were running away from you when they died, I don't know. But I also know that you barely were reimbursed that debt when what remained of their assets was liquidated. All of this," she waved her hand to encompass the interior of the jet, "it sort of makes me feel like I'm even more indebted to you."

Damien's jaw dropped. "You...you _knew_?"

She nodded, kept her chin tucked down. "I suppose it was easier to believe the horrible rumors about you because of it, Mr. DeMarcus—"

"Stop calling me that!" he insisted impatiently. "I was Damien not fifteen minutes ago."

"I just want you to know that I understand why you're doing all of this. It's not your fault that I became what I am," she said. Haley's cheeks burned hotly. "If it hadn't been you getting the bulk of what was owed you, someone else would've got it, not me anyway, so I just want you to understand that I don't blame you for the choices that I made."

She drew in a shaking breath. "You don't owe me anything. That's all I was trying to say."

Damien turned toward her and lifted her chin until their eyes met.

Haley gasped at the fervent, angry glow in his, tried to twist away from the uncomfortable, probing gaze.

"Listen to me," he hissed. "Listen carefully, because I'm never going to say it more than one time. I didn't know who you were the night I met you, Haley, only that I wanted you like I've never wanted another woman in my life."

"You have an affinity for whores. At least that's what Siobhan thinks," Haley said.

His grip tightened on her jaw. "Don't _ever_ call yourself a whore again!"

"Why not?" Haley twisted free. "It's what I was. I took money for sex. The legal system defines that as prostitution. You've whisked me away to Europe on your jet, to what I seem to recall, is a very private, romantic villa in the south of France. I'll pay for it one way or another, won't I?"

"I know what you're trying to do," Damien's eyes narrowed angrily.

"Be honest about myself for once in my life? You asked me a little while ago, when you woke me, if I was having a bad dream. At the time, I didn't think it was. But now I see the truth."

"Haley—"

"I'll never escape my past. I'll never be more than what I made myself. I think my parents planned to fob me off on one of the perverts they played with, once I was an acceptable age of course, to get their hands on more cash. So maybe whoring is their genetic gift to me, I don't know. What I do know is that my subconscious is screaming at me, reminding me that nothing in life is free, and that with this gesture of _kindness_ comes a debt, one that I can only pay one way, the only way I know how."

Rage and disbelief vied for dominance. Damien unbuckled his seat belt and launched out of his seat. He slammed the bathroom door behind him, heedless of the fact that the jet was only minutes away from landing, that he wasn't in the safest place onboard for that event. He didn't care.

All that mattered at the moment was getting away from Haley, away from words that tore at his gut and made him ache with pain he didn't know how to cope with. Forget that she thought the worst of _him_ , that he'd demand sex in payment for what was given solely from a place of compassion.

No, it was the assertion that her parents would sell her off to the highest bidder that burned through his veins and made him homicidal for the first time in his life. "I'm glad they died horribly," he whispered. "Jesus Christ! What kind of monsters were these people? And why in the hell would Delia Trenton try to sugarcoat what they really were to Haley at all?"

A light knock at the door distracted him. "Mr. DeMarcus, you need to take your seat. We're on final approach to the airport—"

"I'll be out in a moment," he snarled at the flight attendant.

"Sir, I must insist. Flight regulations demand—"

Damien jerked the door open and glared at her. He pushed past her and took the closest seat, far away from Haley, and buckled his seatbelt.

"Thank you," the attendant said just before she too, took a seat and slipped into her harness-style restraint.

Meanwhile, Damien struggled to control his anger. It slowed to a throbbing, dull stab through his heart, again and again, with every beat, sinking that hateful blade of rage deeper on each thrust.

He was doomed. If Haley really believed he'd demand anything from her, payment or otherwise, there was no winning her. The irony was that her chosen lifestyle had damaged her more than her parent's callousness, if she couldn't believe that another human being could reach out in the true spirit of compassion without an ulterior motive.

Did he want sex with her?

No. Not _just_ sex. He wanted love. He wanted her soft and warm and receptive. He wanted her to desire him, like she'd muttered so convincingly in her sleep.

The dream lanced through his memory along with her explanation—or rationalization—of what it meant. She'd flat out confessed that she had an erotic dream about him.

But was it denial that made her assume it was some subconscious message that she would be required to pay with her body in the end?

Hope, just a small spark, flickered to life.

If that's what she thought, if that's what she'd convinced herself that dream really meant, Damien would just have to prove otherwise. There would be no gentle persuasion involved. No, perhaps Haley needed to be the aggressor.

A slow smile curled at his lips. This was a complication, nothing more. Damien didn't know the solution to the problem, at least not yet, but he was determined that Haley wasn't going to be a lost cause.

Chapter 18

Self-preservation. That's what it had to have been. Haley was horrified by the words that fell from her lips to Damien less than an hour ago. Maybe she got scared.

Yes, that had to be what it was. Why else would she confess that she knew some of the history that linked her family to his? But to be so brutal, to basically accuse him of doing anything for her because he would later demand payment—it was unconscionably cruel.

She kept tucked away in one corner of the spacious vehicle that sped through the late evening toward the villa where she once lived. Maybe he was so angry with her that he didn't want to speak to her again.

He'd been on the phone since the moment the jet's wheels hit the tarmac in Nice. Unfortunately, he spoke in French, and she could only understand _oui_ and _non_. The call concluded with a brief, terse, _sil vous plait, merci_.

_Please_ and _thank you_.

Okay. Maybe he was making arrangements to have her delivered to the villa while he travelled into Monte Carlo alone. After all, wasn't that what she told him _she_ wanted? To be alone?

Tendrils of doubt and fear curled around her throat and grew downward, strangling the breath from her lungs.

_Alone_.

Haley shuddered. It was the last thing she wanted. Hell, that bed on the jet was the first time she'd slept alone for more than an hour or two since before Nana died. How would she cope with it in a home that had never been filled with particularly happy memories? What if her hasty, fearful words shoved Damien so far away he no longer gave a damn if she slept or not?

She dared a peek to her left, where Damien sat comfortably on the other side of the long bench seat. Unlike her, he wasn't coiled into a tight ball of tension in one corner. His feet were planted firmly on the floor, knees spread in a wide, comfortable position. He'd shed his suit jacket and rolled up his shirt sleeves.

The phone conversation had ended, but he was typing with his thumbs. Texts maybe or email. Perhaps he was letting Siobhan know they'd landed—and that she had nothing more to worry about. Not only did Haley know the truth about the dark DeMarcus secret, but she didn't particularly appreciate his kindness.

_What was I thinking?_ Haley sighed heavily.

"Are you all right, Haley?" Damien asked when he tucked the phone into his pocket.

She nodded, burrowed a little deeper into her corner. "Is everything all right with you? That phone call seemed a bit...tense."

Damien smiled, and the anger she'd been startled by in his eyes was completely absent. "No, nothing wrong at all. I just realized that you're probably exhausted from everything that's happened this week, so I had some additional requests for the staff at the villa."

"I wish you wouldn't put them to more trouble than they've already gone to," she said. "It's so late now..."

"Nonsense. It's barely past dinnertime," Damien said. "Besides, the caretaker phoned me with suggestions, not the other way around. They're quite excited for your visit, Haley. I hope you don't mind, but I shared with them that you spent a great deal of time at the villa as a child. I suspect that some of them might even remember you."

She wilted a bit. "Oh dear."

"Does that bother you?" his eyebrow arched.

Haley shuddered, afraid she'd upset him again. She shook her head. "It's just that...well, if they were there when I was a child, then they probably knew Nana very well. I don't know how to tell them that...well, that she's..."

"They know," he said gently. "Haley, no one is going to be unkind to you, if that's what you're worried about. _No one_ would dream of being insensitive to what you're going through right now."

She dared another peek. No, not even Damien seemed angry with her. But as hard as she tried, Haley couldn't seem to relax or let go of that feeling of foolishness that persisted after her outburst. Why had she said such horrible things to him? Did she really believe he'd expect payment for all of this?

Maybe she did. Maybe her fears about the legacy passed down by her parents were rooted in reality. She might be just as horrible as they were. The sobering thought made her shudder.

If that were true, she'd too be an unfit parent, someone without the capacity to love anyone but herself.

Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, and her throat ached with the effort of suppressing sobs that coiled tightly in her chest.

She could feel Damien's eyes on her, not even covertly.

"Haley, please don't pull away from me," he said softly.

One tear slid down her cheek. She tried to swipe it away casually, before he could notice it. How could he say such a thing to her after she'd again showed him the very worst inside herself? Then again, maybe that's all that was there—ugliness.

Another tear fell, and then another, before they were unstoppable. She shook in silence, determined not to sob brokenly.

"Ah hell," Damien murmured. He slid across the seat and pulled her gently into his lap. "Baby, please talk to me. Don't think you have to go through all of this alone. You have _me_ , whether you want to believe that or not. There will never be strings attached to what I'm offering you."

Haley only cried harder, but buried herself deeper in his embrace. It was probably wrong to accept the comfort he offered, especially after how she behaved. But here she was, doing it anyway. She snuggled closer, the soft sobs finally tearing free from her throat.

Was that wonderful dream wishful thinking, or was her mind trying to warn her about Damien? She'd replayed every moment of it over and over in her mind almost from the moment he woke her.

Like in reality, he hadn't actually told her that he loved her in the dream, but rather that he wanted her. Perhaps that's where the misgivings were born. Once he satisfied his lust, he'd move on to the next conquest. And of course, what attracted him was just like what drew him to Jessica—they were both whores after all.

So why pretend such anger when she admitted what she was? Maybe Damien didn't like hearing the truth about himself. After all, nobody liked hearing ugliness about themselves.

His hand smoothed up and down her back, the other holding her tightly to him. "Haley, I wish you'd talk to me. Tell me why you're crying."

Damien's words echoed through her. _There will never be strings attached to what I'm offering you._ Was that it? Did she want strings?

The dream returned, the one she was so convinced at the time was reality, the way he held her, loved her, told her he'd give her exactly what she wanted—a family of her own. It didn't quite mesh with _no strings attached_.

But it _was_ just a dream. This was her reality, one in which Damien insisted he was "there" for her, but still, with no strings attached. What did that mean?

Damien tilted her chin up, gazed into her eyes. Haley blinked and tried to pull away.

"No," he whispered. "Tell me what you're thinking. Tell me what's wrong."

It was clear he wasn't going to let her go until he got his answer. Haley swallowed convulsively. "Nana," she rasped. "It's just...it's hitting me all over again that she's really gone."

The complete lie placated him. Damien pressed her head to his shoulder again and started rocking her gently. "Shh," he soothed. "It's going to be all right, Haley. Nana raised a strong girl...a woman. You'll get through this."

Haley wasn't sure about that. In fact, the only thing she was certain about was that if Nana had a grave, she'd be rolling over in it, just because of who Haley turned to in her time of need.

What did she _really_ need though? Comfort? Solace? A strong shoulder to cry on? She wasn't sure, but something tugged deep in her heart, something that hurt and begged for the truth at long last. Who were her parents really? And why had Nana lied about them for years after their deaths?

It was a simple matter really, learning the truth about their finances, the murders, the grab for the Templeton assets after they were declared dead after a lengthy police investigation. It was all right there, memorialized on the Internet. Google did the work. All Haley had to do was read the information—all of which contradicted what Nana said about her parents.

And that sudden trip to her boarding school shortly before they died bothered her too. They never actually _intended_ to see Haley. The fact that she discovered they were there was nothing more than an annoyance to her parents. Grudgingly, they met with her. For a solid ten minutes before they had to catch their flight back to Nice.

They stayed in Monte Carlo before taking that fateful voyage into the Mediterranean six days later. After two weeks, the police declared they had been murdered, butchered actually based on the amount of blood on the yacht, and fed to the inhabitants in the blue sea.

Her tears dried while she thought of the summer break that year. Nana took her back to Boston, to her grandfather's townhouse. She barely mentioned Haley's parents all summer long. And when Haley returned to school that fall, it was almost as if Nana had been her only parent all along. No one mentioned Geoffrey and Clarissa Templeton to her again.

Nana explained two years later that the money was all gone, that the bastards who felt they were entitled to Haley's family's wealth had taken the last of it, all but the money set specifically aside for Haley's education.

That was when she turned into a wild child.

Haley remembered that single Christmas when she was five years old, when her mother told her she mustn't run, mustn't ever raise her voice, must walk calmly and regally, that one day, she would be trained to be a proper lady who would do great things for her family. Their deaths put an end to that problem, so she delved into the _improper_ education with great abandon. Nana didn't know half of the things Haley did with boys from age sixteen forward, not until Haley started making some serious money.

It was after she gifted Nana with her condo in a high rise community inhabited mostly by retirees that the truth came out.

Nana was disappointed, begged her to stop.

But no. Haley wasn't going to be poor. She'd seen enough poor people growing up, those who were little more than slaves to jobs they hated, to destinies they didn't control. That life wasn't for her.

And when she was seventeen, sex was so much fun. Getting paid for it seemed like earning money for having a good time. She started by perfecting her craft with classmates who didn't mind paying a fee for a good time with the wildest girl in school. By mid-college, she was ready for bigger and better prospects.

It was only later when the act became shallow and empty, after hundreds of stories of dissatisfaction with the wife (or husband) at home. It became drudgery, mechanical. There was no spontaneity, no passion, no thrill.

Haley sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm fine now, you can let go of me."

Damien tilted her face upward again. The concern in his eyes wrung another pang of...something...from her heart.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

That dream, that stupid, reckless dream was a symbol of what Haley wished her future held, but she knew better. Damien DeMarcus knew everything. He didn't care that she was a whore because that was what he preferred to take to bed. If she could change the trajectory of her life, it would have to be somewhere else, with someone else, someone who could believe a beautiful lie. Constructing that couldn't begin until Haley put the past behind her for good. And that meant laying Nana to rest and never speaking of her again.

"I'll be fine—eventually." She forced a weak, watery smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

Damien tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "I hope you know that I'll do anything I can for you, Haley. This isn't guilt talking either. I meant what I said to you before, on the flight. I want you in my life."

"Do you?" she asked softly.

"More than I can say." His thumb stroked over her lower lip. "Please don't push me away again."

Everything he said and did contradicted itself, or so it seemed to Haley. Maybe the answer would be to go to bed with him. Then she'd know one way or the other if he meant what he said or if she was simply another conquest.

Impulsively, she leaned in and kissed him softly. "Thank you. For not holding that horrible tirade against me earlier," she whispered. "I didn't mean to insult you."

Damien's chest expanded on a gasp. His eyes darkened with some unnamed emotion that flickered for the briefest moment before he closed his eyes and relaxed. He nestled her against him again and murmured, "Don't worry about that. I know you're feeling pretty battered right now, Haley. Like I said, this is going to take time for you to work through all of it."

Another mixed message. He wanted her in his life more than he could say, but thought she needed _time_. He'd put her off because of her grief. Was he doing all of this because he felt responsible for the choices she made after her parents died, or was it something else?

The problem was, she couldn't figure out which motivation he had if _he_ kept pushing _her_ away.

Or maybe he genuinely believed her grief impaired her ability to know what she wanted.

Haley snuggled closer to him and pressed her ear against his chest. One hand crept around his waist and slowly stroked his side through the crispness of his shirt. The thumping beat beneath her ear accelerated, and Damien suddenly shifted her into a different position on his lap.

"Am I getting too heavy?" she asked.

"No," he murmured throatily. "You hardly weigh a pound."

Chapter 19

They were met at the car by a string of servants greeting them. Haley had accepted the handkerchief Damien offered before the car pulled up to the stately old villa and had done her best to hide the evidence of her crying jag. Still, the sight of people who might recognize her from childhood left her feeling shy and unsettled.

Damien noticed her apprehension. He threaded their fingers together and squeezed gently. "It'll be fine, Haley. I called ahead and told them we only wanted a light dinner, something on the terrace outside our suite of rooms."

Her heart thundered in her chest. _Our suite of rooms?_ Part of her instantly relaxed, but she hadn't quite processed that part of her fear was being left all alone tonight as well as tomorrow morning.

Damien exited the car first and spoke in French again, directing luggage to the house. He reached inside the car for Haley's hand and helped her out of the car.

"Mademoiselle Templeton!" one of the servants gushed. "I would recognize you anywhere! Such a lovely little girl has grown into a beautiful young woman."

She flushed, and stepped closer to Damien.

"Monsieur DeMarcus, welcome," the older woman continued. "It is good to see you again. I trust your flight was uneventful?"

"Oui," he said, continuing his conversation with her in French.

The woman bobbed her head, and glanced nervously at Haley. "Pardon, monsieur," she said before leading the way into the house.

A few minutes later, they were escorted into the suite of rooms—two bedrooms connected by a large, airy sitting room.

Haley watched her luggage disappear into one room while Damien's was taken to the opposite side of the sitting room. Her heart sank, but before she could dwell on it, Damien escorted her onto the terrace.

"I doubt it looks much like you remember it," he said somewhat apologetically. "The previous owner had the villa completely renovated after your parents sold it."

"Previous owner?" she asked.

He nodded, his lips tight. "Actually, it wasn't any problem getting the place on short notice, Haley. I bought it about three years ago. Its proximity to the property in Monte Carlo made it an ideal retreat for my infrequent visits over here. Plus, I wouldn't have to deal with the clientele at the hotel, so..."

"Another benefit," she said. "Why didn't you just tell me that before we left?"

"Because it's usually leased when I'm not going to be in residence," he said. "So I wasn't certain it would be available on short notice. I generally only use the place once a year at most, and it's usually when the cold weather at home makes me more amenable to travel."

He shrugged and grinned sheepishly. "Am I forgiven for not telling the truth before we left?"

Haley smiled, a genuine one this time, he noticed. "Of course I forgive you. I might've been very suspicious of how you came to own one of my childhood homes if you'd told me before we left."

She paused and frowned. "You wouldn't happen to own Grandfather's townhouse in Boston, would you?"

Damien laughed, and held out a chair for her at the candle-lit table on the terrace. "No. I promise, I don't own any property in Boston. You already know the worst of my secret."

"About my parent's assets?"

Damien sobered and sat down beside her. "Yes, Haley. Well, that's part of it, but I don't want to spoil dinner by having conversations about unpleasant things from the past."

Her eyes lit with curiosity. "Then there's more to the story that I don't already know?"

"Oh, I'm sure that there's a lot that neither one of us knows, or things you know that I don't and vice versa," Damien said. "It was a messy, complicated affair."

"Maybe we should compare notes," Haley said with a indifferent shrug. "I think it's clear right now that I don't blame you for repayment of the debt they owed you. It's like you said back home. You weren't completely reimbursed that debt after all."

"You know I that I consider it paid in full," he said softly.

Two servers arrived with the first course.

Haley laughed softly. "This is a light dinner? I was thinking a salad and a glass of wine would be sufficient." She stared at the fancy dish placed before her. "What is this?"

"Artichoke canapés with shrimp and fennel," an older gentleman in a suit bearing a bottle of wine stepped forward and filled their glasses with a sparkling white wine.

"How many courses will be served?" Haley asked nervously.

"Four more, mademoiselle," he said. "I shall request smaller portions if that is your wish."

"Yes please," she said.

Damien smiled at her tenderly. "You haven't eaten all day. You must be famished."

"Not really," Haley admitted. She sipped the wine while her gaze drifted over the terrace. "Is that the garden?"

Damien laughed softly at her surprised gasp, not to mention the abandoned meal. She leapt to her feet and walked to the stone rail of the terrace and peered into the softly lit garden.

"It looks so much more beautiful than I remembered," she breathed.

The neatly manicured garden was peppered with fruit trees and a winding stone path. Along the path were stone benches and torches with flickering firelight.

"Gas lamps," Damien said as he joined her. "I hired the gardener who used to tend the place years ago. Perhaps you knew him?"

Haley shook her head slowly. "Doubtful. Unless he had children my age to help entertain me, my parents probably didn't have much use for him. They replaced many of Grandfather's staff with...well, people who were desperate for work and didn't command the kind of salaries Grandfather typically paid."

"Ah," Damien said quietly. "So they cut corners."

"More money for them, you see," Haley said.

"Enough talk of the past," he said and cupped her elbow. "I don't want anything making it impossible for you to eat a good meal, especially not unhappy memories. If you'd like, we can go for a stroll through the garden after dinner, let you get an up close view then."

Haley returned to the table and picked over the first three courses. She worked up enough enthusiasm to eat half the beef medallions, herb mashed potatoes and French green beans, but ate every last morsel of dessert—a scrumptious, rum and coffee infused tiramisu.

"I definitely need that walk now," she sighed after finishing the rich treat.

"Another glass of wine first?" Damien wiggled a finger toward the shadow.

"Oh I couldn't...or shouldn't," she said, but didn't protest too much when Richard refilled her glass. "Or maybe I should. It seems to be helping me relax quite nicely," she added with a shy smile.

"Good." Damien lifted his glass. "To your health and continued relaxation. May you find sweet, peaceful repose tonight."

She clinked her glass against his, and Damien watched her carefully as she sipped half the glass of wine and stared up at the night sky.

"I don't remember it being this beautiful," she finally spoke. "I remember that I cried when Nana told me we wouldn't be coming back here again, that Mother and Father sold the villa. It was one place where I felt like I had friends."

"Even Tommy who tortured you?"

A soft cough sounded from the shadow.

Haley frowned. "He didn't torture me, Damien. He was actually a very sweet boy, one who likely was tired of the poor little rich girl who always got her way in all things. I can't fault him for that."

"Leave the wine," Damien chuckled. "Let's go for our walk now, before you're too sleepy and I have to carry you to bed."

She was slightly tipsy, after they'd consumed two bottles of wine with dinner—most of which had gone into Haley's glass. Her eyes were slightly drooped, but still luminous, filled with the wonder of more pleasant memories mingled with the awe that someone who loved this villa had actually spent time restoring it to its former glory—one Haley learned her grandfather established and her parents nearly destroyed.

Her arm slid through Damien's easily as they made their way to the stone staircase that led to the garden from the terrace on the second floor of the villa.

"Glad I wore flat shoes," she chuckled. "Otherwise, I might fall and break my neck."

"I wouldn't let that happen," Damien assured her.

They reached the garden level, and Haley inhaled deeply. "Oh it smells so heavenly! There must be a thousand roses in this garden."

"Do you like roses?"

"Mmm," she nodded. "I like white ones best of all."

"Oh? That surprises me, I think," Damien said. "I imagined you surrounded by hundreds of sterling roses."

"Sterling?"

"They're a light lavender color. I imagine they'd make your eyes look quite exquisite."

"Ah," she said. "An enhancement."

"Not at all. You have beautiful eyes, Haley, with or without roses highlighting the color."

She shivered.

"Cold?" Damien pulled his arm free and wrapped it around her waist as they drifted slowly down the stone path through the garden.

"Maybe a little," she snuggled closer to his side. "You're very warm, though."

Her arm crept around his waist, fingers rubbing against his shirt again. Damien's breath caught in his chest. The memory of her soft lips pressed against his flickered to the surface of his mind, not that it had drifted far all evening. Every time she dabbed with her napkin or sipped from her wine glass, he remembered that kiss—the very first one she'd given him without any encouragement—and relived the thrill he'd felt.

Haley pointed with her free hand. "I remember that tree!"

"Do you?" Damien watched her instead of looking at what caught her attention.

"Apples. Nana and I picked apples from that tree one summer. I think I was eight years old. We made an apple pie."

Damien reached up and plucked an apple from the tree. "Was it a good pie?" he handed the fruit to her.

"Best I ever tasted as I recall."

"We should pick some. Have Richard bake a pie for our breakfast in the morning."

Haley's smile slid away. "Except we won't be having breakfast together in the morning. You have your meeting at the resort."

"Then we'll have it for dessert after lunch...a picnic at the beach. I'll send a driver to pick you up, and I'll give you a personal tour of the resort."

A ghost of the former smile returned. "Really?"

"I'd drag you with me to the meetings if I didn't think you'd be bored into a complete stupor," Damien grinned. "Wanna know a secret?"

Haley nodded, grinning now too.

"I'd rather just be here on a leisurely holiday with you than do any work at all. Oh Haley, I feel so happy when I'm with you, so different than my life has ever been. We're in one of the most beautiful, romantic places in the world. No pressure, no Siobhan, no rumors or any of that _stuff_ back home. Just a man enchanted with a beautiful woman..."

"There's that word again," Haley murmured softly.

"Beautiful?" Damien smirked. "Romantic?"

"Enchanted," she said. Haley stepped closer to him, trailed one finger down his chest. "I'm beginning to feel the same way, Damien."

"Oh, I don't think men are supposed to be enchanting," he laughed.

"Mesmerizing then?"

He made a face.

"You're very charming—when you want to be. Most of the time, I find myself baffled."

"Why?"

"Because you have this amazing capacity to just let go of all the horrible stuff I've said and done to you, and I don't understand why."

"You're on a rollercoaster right now," Damien said. He turned away from the tree and steered her back to the path. "I know your emotions are all over the map right now. It's completely understandable."

"But it can't be easy for you to hear."

"What's hard to hear is when you parrot things I said in anger, Haley. What will it take to convince you that nobody knows that Haley Khram is really Haley Templeton?"

"Plastic surgery and a new identity," she chuckled.

"Well...I can't say that I'd be thrilled if you changed your face, but if that's what it takes—"

"I was joking, Damien."

He smiled slyly. "Well, I'm delighted to hear it. The name thing...well, that might not be something so terrible. You could have a new identity. Would you like my name?"

"I don't think I look like a Damien."

He paused in the moonlight, turned toward her and lifted Haley's chin until their eyes met. "You could be a DeMarcus."

The sincerity in his eyes shocked her. "Damien..."

"I could give you so much normal, Haley. No one would _ever_ speak ill of you. They wouldn't dare, I'm such a ruthless bastard. This could be your home again. You could do anything you want."

"Don't say this," she whispered.

"I'm falling in love with you. I know you think it's not possible, that I don't know you well enough, but Haley—"

"No," she said with an adamant shake of her head. "It's just another dream. Next thing you'll be telling me that you want us to have children too."

"Is that what you were dreaming about on the flight?"

She nodded. "You...you took my birth control pills and flushed them down the toilet."

"Well, would it help if I told you I'm a selfish bastard and I wouldn't want to share you with children until you're at least thirty?"

Haley smiled. "No, that wouldn't convince me that I'm not dreaming. Our flight probably hasn't even landed yet." She paused for a moment. "Besides, you already told me you don't want children."

"And that was true when I said it." Damien's hand slid around Haley's waist and pulled her back against his chest. Fingers danced over her low belly. "But there's something about imagining you carrying my child..."

"You said that in the other dream."

His arousal grew firm against her. "And did I show you how very turned on this fantasy of mine makes me?" he breathed into her ear.

"You made love to me," she whispered.

"Was it good?" he grinned against her neck between light nips and nibbles.

"It was too good to be real."

"Do you want to sleep with me tonight?" he asked. "Just sleep. I'm not going to make love to you until you realize you're not dreaming. I'm not sure if you're ready to sleep alone yet, though."

Damien let go of her and stepped ahead on the walkway. "We should get to bed. I've got an early morning, and it's very late."

"Oh. Okay."

He held out his hand. "So, do you want to share a room tonight?"

Haley nodded. "If that's all right."

Damien grinned. "I'm getting used to this constant state of arousal. In fact, I'm not sure I could handle it if you _didn't_ want to sleep with me."

Haley shook her head and laughed softly. "And this is the weirdest dream I've _ever_ had, bar none."

Chapter 20

Haley woke to an empty bed, and a nightstand bearing the apple that Damien plucked from the tree in the garden the night before.

She groaned and slapped one hand over her eyes. "It wasn't a dream!"

After damning everything from the wine to the intoxicating scent of roses in the garden to the moonlight, Haley rolled out of bed and padded into the bathroom where she found yet another surprise. As the steam from the shower filled the bathroom, the note Damien left her on the mirror became visible.

DeMarcus is a fine name.

Another message was scrawled on the glass in the shower—a large heart with their initials inside.

Haley couldn't seem to wipe the goofy grin off her face.

By the time she got out of the shower, toweled off and went back into the bedroom, someone had been inside. Not only was the bed made, but white roses filled the room. There were white rose petals on the bed and vases of them all over the room.

One of the vases had a small card. Haley opened it, holding her breath.

"I can't wait to see you at lunch. Picnic at noon. You, me, sand, sun and apple pie. D," she read softly. "Oh Damien, what are you doing?"

Haley peeked out of the bedroom, clutching her bathrobe tightly around her. No one was in sight in the sitting room. She dashed across to the bedroom on the opposite side in search of her luggage...and found an empty room. No luggage. Empty drawers. Empty closets. But there was another bouquet of roses with another card.

Her fingers trembled as she opened the envelope this time. This one had a smiley face on it. "I knew you'd come looking for your clothes. Go back to our room. No more pretenses. See you soon." He'd underscored _our_ three times.

Inside the closet, she discovered all of her clothing had been unpacked, dresses hanging next to Damien's suits, shoes placed on shelves, everything neatly organized as if it had always been there.

There was also another note.

"Please bring a sweater. It can be chilly at the beach," punctuated with x's and o's.

Haley's belly fluttered with anticipation. Would Damien always be this sweet, or was this simply how he behaved at the beginning of a new romance?

"He's quite smitten with you," the old woman who'd recognized her the night before said softly from behind her. "He's been coming here on and off for the last three years, Mam'selle, but you're the first lady he's brought with him."

She turned slowly. "Marguerite, isn't it?"

The woman smiled. "You remember me?"

Haley nodded. "You were always kind to me."

"Monsieur Damien has been very good to us. He went to much trouble to find all the people your grandfather used to have run this estate for him, paid us very well to come back to _work_."

"Why do you say it that way?" Haley asked.

"Because it is hardly work, what little he asks us to do here. Mostly, I think he wanted this place to look exactly like Monsieur Templeton had it before the new master took up residence with...that _woman_."

"My mother," Haley said softly.

Marguerite snorted. "She was no mother to you, _ma cherie_. _Le chat_ is a better mother. Monsieur Damien told us about Madame Trenton. She was good to you, _oui_?"

"Yes," Haley said. "She was very good to me."

"And Monsieur Damien, he is a good man too. I think he is very much...eh... _amoureux_. In love with you. Do you like the roses? We did not have white in the garden, so we bought every one we could find in Nice," she smiled warmly. "He said they must be white."

"They're very beautiful," she said.

"The garden...it would be a lovely place for a wedding, _oui_?"

"Oui," Haley blushed lightly.

"When he asks, maybe you say _oui_ to him too, eh?" Marguerite glanced at her watch. "You must hurry, Mam'selle. Monsieur said he would send for you at _onze_ ...eh...eleven. It is almost ten now."

"Marguerite, how well do you know Damien?" she asked before the old woman could slip away.

" _Moi_? Some, I suppose. Why do you ask?"

Haley flushed again. "I guess I'm curious what he might like me to wear to this lunch he's put so much effort into planning."

"Ah," she smiled. "Wear the sun dress, the cheery one."

Haley pulled the light yellow dress from the spindle in the closet. "This one?"

" _Oui_. It makes you glow, cherie. Like the sun."

At noon, the car Damien sent for her pulled under the portico at the opulent hotel resort in Monte Carlo. Haley felt grossly underdressed compared to the glamorous attire the women inside the lobby wore.

She didn't have time to panic before Damien swooped in and whistled softly. "My dear Ms. Trenton, you look stunning," he beamed, leaning in for a chaste peck on her cheek.

Haley eyed him warily. "Ms. Trenton?" she echoed. Perhaps he'd seen that name on her passport, since for the purposes of travel, it had been the name she'd used since she was a small child left in Delia's care.

"Well, since you haven't warmed to the name I suggested, I thought we could try another one on in the interim."

Haley laughed softly, unaware of the attention that suddenly shifted to her in the lobby. "I feel a little low rent in this dress, Damien."

"Nonsense. You look beautiful as always. Are you ready for our picnic?"

"Here?" she asked.

Damien grinned. "No," he drawled. "Nothing so public for our outing this afternoon. Henri is waiting for us in the car."

"But he told me to come inside," Haley said.

"Uh-huh," Damien smirked. "I wanted to make sure that I staked my claim publicly before I whisk you away from all these drooling dogs giving you the eye—as I knew they would the second they saw you."

Haley slipped her hand in Damien's. "Let's go."

They were barely in the car when she slid close to Damien and laid her head on his shoulder. "Thank you."

"For?"

"The flowers. The notes. Even the ones in the bathroom."

"Have I convinced you that this isn't a dream yet?"

"I'm getting there," she confessed. Haley gazed up at him.

"I know that look," he murmured, "but I'm not going to kiss you, Haley."

"You're not?"

"Nope."

"Oh..."

"Of course, I wouldn't be upset if you kiss me," he said with another sly grin. "Maybe it would be more realistic for you if you know, you're setting the pace."

"I see," Haley said. "So I guess there won't be any kissing today."

"There won't? Hmm...that's disappointing."

"Well, in my dream, I was the one who made the first move," Haley said.

Damien shifted in his seat and peered at her intently. "I'd love to hear the specific details of that dream. In fact, not knowing gives you an edge I'm not sure I like. How will I convince you this is real if I don't know what I did in the dream?"

"What _I_ did," she corrected.

"So? What did you do?"

"I was wearing one of your t-shirts."

"Hmm...what a surprise," Damien laughed. "And?"

"When you came into the bedroom, I took it off."

"So...I saw you in your panties and just mauled you?"

"Not exactly," Haley smirked. "I wasn't wearing any."

"So I suppose I should hope you're wearing them right now. Perhaps that would make this seem less dreamlike." His hand slipped to her knee and inched half way up her thigh. "But then again, if you _think_ you're dreaming, you probably wouldn't have put them on when you dressed this morning, would you?"

Haley grinned. "I guess you'll just have to find out for yourself."

One hand skimmed over her belly. Damien felt the thin band of the thong and strummed one finger over it. "A very good sign then."

"Do I get a kiss now?" she asked.

"Depends. What happened next in this dream you had?"

"You weren't convinced that I really wanted you," Haley whispered, leaning closer to him. "So I took your hand...and showed you how different this time was from the last time we were together."

He swallowed hard. "And then I ravaged you, I'm certain. That's what I would do, dream or otherwise."

"There was some intense foreplay," Haley smirked.

"How intense?" Damien's eyes darkened.

"Shattering."

"No detachment in your dream, huh? I don't know, sweetheart. That's a whole lot to live up to. What if reality isn't as great as your fantasy?"

"What if it's better?"

"Do you think it's possible, that I could be better to you in reality than I was in your dream?" Damien asked soberly.

"You already have been," Haley said. "In my dream, you never said that you loved me, only that you wanted me, that you wanted to give me what I wanted. In my mind, that was children. But you said it, Damien. Last night wasn't a dream. You love me."

"Yes," he said softly. "I'm falling in love with you. Madly, deeply...can't stop thinking about you, don't want to be away from you for five minutes...all of that."

"But?"

"You're too vulnerable right now, Haley."

"Because of Nana?"

"Partly, yes. I'm afraid her death has stirred up a lot of other stuff for you too, and I don't want you to wake up three days from now...or three years from now, and feel like I took advantage of your vulnerability."

"What does that mean? Why would you offer me your...oh."

"Oh what?"

"You meant I should just adopt your name, like I'm some long lost relative."

"No, I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

"But we've known each other for less than two weeks."

"I know," Damien said. "And I knew how my feelings were different than anything I've ever felt before in my life before I even knew who you really were, Haley. I can't explain it. I just need you. I've needed you from the first taste. It's like you're my designer aphrodisiac. Your smell, your taste...it drives me wild."

"That's not love."

"No, that's the attraction. The love is that it tears my heart out that you've been hurt so much, that you have such a hard time seeing how wonderful and special you really are. The thought that another man, even one man, has touched you makes me insane with jealousy. I want to be the only man in your life."

"You might feel differently if we had sex."

"Sex? Yeah, I might. But I can't have sex with you."

"Ever?"

"Never," he said. "Every time you touch me, every time I touch you, it's not just an act, Haley. My emotions are involved. It's not just about a pleasurable experience for me. I want the connection, that deep emotional link. You could hurt me. Do you see that?"

"I don't want to hurt you."

"Well, that's a good start."

Haley wondered how the conversation had plummeted from playful to so serious as quickly as it had. "So how can I convince you that—"

"Just feel what you feel, and then act on it," Damien said. "I don't want you to hold anything back, Haley. I don't want you to retreat because you're afraid."

"Afraid that this is just a dream?"

"Or anything else. Just be free, even if it's only for an afternoon picnic. If you want something, take it. If you feel something, savor it. If you think something, share it with me."

"Okay," she said softly.

"You'll try?"

Haley turned in her seat and cupped Damien's cheek. "If I want to touch you, you're saying that you're okay with that?"

"Yes."

"And if I feel like kissing you, I should do it?"

"Please do," Damien said.

"And if I want to tell you that I get butterflies in my stomach every time you look at me like you are right now, I should just say it?"

"God...absolutely." His look intensified.

"I'm sorry my past makes you jealous, but there is one thing I've done with you that I've never done with anyone else in my life," Haley said.

"What?" Damien barely whispered.

"Sleep. All night. Safe in your arms."

Damien's chest expanded, and his eyes closed.

Haley kissed him, soft and tiny gossamer kisses at first, until his lips parted. Damien's arms wound around her and pulled her close, half into his lap. Haley's tongue lapped at his lower lip, eliciting a gasp.

"And kissing," she whispered. "You're the only one I've ever kissed like this."

Damien growled and lost his tenuous control. His arm slid under her knees as he scooped her up and into his lap. The kiss deepened, wringing moans from her that he echoed back. Her hands slithered into his hair, fingernails scraping against his scalp as their tongues dueled in a slow thrust and slide.

Haley squirmed, desperate to get closer to him, but Damien broke the kiss without letting her go. "Tell me how you feel, right now."

"Loved."

"What else?" he nibbled, drew her lower lip between his teeth and tugged gently.

"Crazy to get closer to you."

"Physically?" he asked.

"Closer in every way. I feel alive again." Her fingers trailed down Damien's cheek. "I've never felt this way before, Damien. Ever."

"Alive, or so attracted to someone?"

"Both...and how pathetic is that?"

"Baby," he murmured, "it's not pathetic. You've never had a chance to live, or feel anything that wasn't rooted in desperation."

Damien's fingers sifted through her hair. "This is what I want. I want you to live your life, and feel what you feel and take exactly what you want. Do you understand?"

"And if I want you?"

"Then I'm yours. It's as simple as that."

Chapter 21

The partition between the driver and the back seat slid down. "Sir, we've arrived at our destination."

"Slight change of plans," Damien murmured into Haley's ear. "Not enough privacy on even the private beaches...at least on such short notice, so I decided we'd take one of the yachts out about half a mile and drop anchor for our picnic. Is that okay?"

Haley glanced up at him fearfully, her teeth suddenly strangling her lower lip in a vice.

"Talk to me," he urged.

"Are you sure we'll be safe?"

"Perfectly safe. We don't even have to leave the dock if you don't want to."

"No...it's just..."

"I thought about that," Damien said. "Which is why we're barely getting out of sight. In fact, we won't be out of sight of the shore at all, and security won't be on the boat, but they'll be close enough to notice anyone coming near the yacht and have orders to keep the waters around us one hundred percent clear."

She relaxed, face blossoming with a beautiful smile. "In that case, yes, I'd love to have our picnic on a yacht. I've never been on one before, you know."

"Great. Let's go."

Haley hesitated for a moment when they were met by three burly men on the boat.

"Haley, these are the men who not only pilot the yacht, but they're also security experts. They'll be disembarking after we drop anchor to keep a clear zone around us."

"Miss," they nodded curtly in succession.

In less than half an hour, she and Damien were on board alone. Haley stared at the coast line. "It looks so different from out here. Serene, even though I know it's bustling with activity."

"Getting out on the water can be very relaxing, which is why I wanted to bring you out here. Of course, it helps to know that we have a small armed force nearby protecting us."

She turned and wrapped her arms around Damien's neck. "You think of everything, don't you?"

"If it involves you? I certainly hope so, Haley."

"So, did Richard make the apple pie?"

Damien grinned. "He did, and a feast to go along with it. We've got baked brie, cold chicken, salad, sparkling wine, some magnificent fresh baguette, and I think he even managed to find a variety of other fresh fruit from the trees in the garden."

She smiled. "And if I prefer water instead of wine?"

"We've got both sparkling and still," Damien said. "Which, come to think of it, is an excellent idea, considering that after your consumption last night, you seemed to have a bit of trouble distinguishing reality from dreams."

"You should've seen me when I woke and saw that apple on the night stand," Haley shook her head and laughed.

The tenor was established for lunch—lots of laughter, teasing and light touches. Haley could barely eat with all the fluttering in her belly.

"Is this how your life is all the time?"

"What do you mean?" Damien asked. "Stealing away with unmatched beauties to frolic in the Mediterranean?"

Haley snorted. "Uh, sure, the general gist of that."

"No," he said. "This is actually a first for me. I've never taken a woman out on one of our yachts, never brought one home to mother, never stolen away to my villa in the south of France either for that matter. Mostly, my days are filled with naps between business reports, reviews of surveillance videos and nagging from Siobhan. By nightfall, I'm glad-handing the high rollers and dealing with serious security problems."

"So coming here could be bad for business at home."

Damien chuckled. "God help the thieves, swindlers and con artists with Mother at the helm. I'm not worried about business in the least, not when it's in her very capable hands."

"Can I ask you something?"

Damien arched one eyebrow.

Haley laughed softly. "Sorry. It's hard, though, just speaking my mind all the time. I was conditioned to be very circumspect."

"Ask me."

"Why haven't there been other women?"

"There have been women in sufficient numbers, Haley. Just none that I wanted more than a quick release from."

"But not me."

"Definitely not you. And before you ask, it has nothing to do with the challenge the night we met, or the subsequent rejection. When I walked into your apartment that night, I honestly thought I'd win the wager. I believed that you'd succumb to my considerable experience. I left wondering if my previous acquaintances merely faked it."

"Why would they?"

"Because they, my sweet, naïve love, had another agenda where I was concerned, one that you clearly didn't share with them."

"They wanted sex?"

"They wanted me for what I could give them. In other words, they wanted my money. Unlike you, they weren't honest enough to give the price up front. Sort of inhibits the greed when one does that."

Haley grinned. "So if you'd put half a million in one of their accounts, they would've kept it?"

"And come back for more," he said wryly.

"So I challenged you."

"You _intrigued_ me. You still do. Part of the _Ms. Khram_ persona included this amazing confidence," Damien said with a slight shake of his head. "You said I was cocky that night. I actually felt pretty intimidated by you."

"Seriously?"

"Well, that was before I got to know the real girl behind the lingerie."

"Ah, clothe the whore and she's not so confident anymore, eh?"

"Don't call yourself—"

"Sorry, Damien, but that's what I was. Just because the price tag was high, doesn't change the fact that I sold my body to anybody who could afford it."

Damien rose and pulled Haley from her seat by the hand. He wrapped her in his arms. "When you returned that money, you didn't keep a penny that I paid you. Ergo, you were not a whore."

"Not with you," she conceded.

"I don't care what happened before you met me, because it's never going to happen again."

Haley grinned. "You're sure about that?"

"I'd bet my entire fortune," Damien smirked.

Her smile melted into something sweeter, a little watery, and oh-so heartfelt. "You won't have to make that bet."

"Because...?"

"I only want you. I don't think I've ever really wanted anyone before."

"You want me right now...for an afternoon, or do you want more?" Damien asked. "Because I want so much more Haley. You know all there is to know about our shared past."

"Do I really?"

"The assets to settle your parent's debts, the fact that they took one of my company's yachts without authorization...yeah. That's pretty much it."

"Is that everything or just _pretty much_ everything?"

Damien sighed. "My uncle was trying to save the shipping company your grandfather founded when your parent's lost their first billion, which pretty much included every bit of cash tied up in the company. It was sold off bit by bit, countless families were ruined..."

"And your uncle committed suicide."

He nodded. "It broke your grandfather's heart, Haley. Your parents lied about when he died. You were ten years old when he lost the company he worked so hard to make successful."

Her fingers dug into his waist. "Now do I know everything?"

"Yes. I'm sorry. I didn't want to tell you anything that would hurt you more."

"Is that why Nana lied to me all those years, because she was trying to protect me from the truth?"

"I'd imagine it was," Damien said. "And she probably hated me because my portion of the assets sale was...significant."

"But nowhere near what they owed you."

"That's not the point," Damien said.

"Ask me," Haley whispered.

Damien's brow furrowed. "Do you hate me too?"

"Ask me what you asked last night."

He inhaled sharply. "You mean...the thing about taking my name?"

"Yes," she said softly. "Yes, to the question, and yes as the answer."

Damien kissed her softly. "I want to ask."

"Then ask me."

"Will you marry me, Haley Templeton? Will you be my wife and have my babies and make my life as happy as it's been since the moment I laid eyes on you? Will you love me forever?"

Doubt flickered for an instant in her eyes.

"It's too soon, isn't it?"

"No," Haley tried to smile, tried to push her fears to the back of her mind, but it was too late. "It's just...well, we don't really know each other very well, Damien. You know about my sordid past, and I know about how my family screwed you over—"

"Forget I said it."

"No," she whispered. "I want to be with you, and you're right. I've never been as..."

"As what?" Damien's arms tightened around her.

"I'm at peace when I'm with you."

He frowned. "At peace?" Damien let go of her and took a step backwards. "At peace."

"I feel safe with you. You make me believe that my life could be different. And I do want you too, Damien. I dream about you all the time, about what it would be like...intimacy with you."

"But you don't love me."

"What is love, really? My parents loved each other."

His eyes glittered angrily. "Did they? Do you know how I met your mother the first time? Your father _offered_ her to me, a way to settle some of his growing debt. That isn't love. That isn't even _liking_ someone very much, and it certainly isn't respect!"

Haley gasped. Her hand trembled as it clamped over her mouth.

"I turned him down, if you're curious. In fact, it sickened me. I was twenty-two years old, and this...this... _man_ offered his middle aged wife up on a silver platter, told me she'd be the best I ever had, that it was worth a million dollars."

Tears started leaking from Haley's eyes. "Then I am like her."

He gripped her upper arms before she could run away. "You are _nothing_ like them, Haley! Christ, can't you see that? Despite the ugliness of desperation, you're still an innocent. You don't know the depths of the depravity in the world."

"But—"

"I love _you_ ," he whispered urgently. "I love you enough for both of us. Marry me. Don't be afraid to feel what you feel."

Her body convulsed with the effort of swallowing back a sob. "Damien...I don't—"

"Shh," one hand slid up her arm. Damien's finger pressed gently over her lips. "Don't say it. You don't know what your feelings mean. You just told me that you don't know what love is. Were you happy today? When you were so carefree just moments ago, and you wanted my name, were you happy?"

Haley nodded, knocking a few more tears loose.

"Then be happy with me, baby. Let me love you. Let me show you how it's supposed to be. You have so much kindness and love inside you, but you can't see it. Not yet anyway. Marry me, and be safe while you find out just how deep your feelings run."

Haley's lower lip trembled for a moment. "Okay," she whispered. "I'll marry you."

Damien steered her gently toward the plush bench seating on the deck and pulled her down into his lap. "It's going to be all right, Haley. You'll see. I'll make you happier than you ever dreamed possible."

"I know you'll try."

"You don't think it's possible for you to be truly happy."

"I think I'm cursed," she said quietly. "Look at who I came from, Damien."

"One of the most respected men in the business world was your grandfather."

"Yet he raised a monster, a man incapable of love, or even respect for his wife," Haley said. "Clearly my grandfather wasn't the great man you think he was."

"Your father rejected everything his father tried to teach him. He was more concerned with enjoying the wealth he was given than protecting it for his children."

"Child," she corrected softly. "And I can't imagine why they ever had me in the first place. Neither one of them clearly wanted me at all."

"Well, I can't argue that point, other than to say that for whatever reason, I will forever be grateful that they did keep you, Haley, because I can't imagine the world without you."

"I keep ruining our—"

Damien pulled a ring from his pocket and dangled it in front of her. "Will you wear this?"

"Oh..." Haley breathed. "It's beautiful."

Damien lifted her left hand and slid the large princess cut diamond ring onto her ring finger.

"Is that—?"

"Platinum," Damien said softly, "with a princess cut diamond surrounded by pink diamonds set in rose gold. Do you like it?"

"Yes, of course, but when did you...I mean...how long have you...?"

"Been carrying this thing around in my pocket hoping you'd bring up the name thing again?" he chuckled. "I bought it this morning. If you don't like it—"

"I love it," she said.

"Good," Damien smiled brightly, "because I'd like to make this official right away, Haley. It'll take a little time to put everything together so it's legal back home, but will you let me do this right away?"

Haley nodded. "How many days?"

"As few as humanly possible," he said. "I think the easiest way to do this will be with US documents and a US officiant willing to come marry us in our garden at the villa. He can file everything back home."

Haley smiled. "Have you been giving this some thought?"

His sheepish grin was the only answer she got.

Chapter 22

Marguerite and six other maids fussed over Haley on the afternoon of her wedding day five days later—in the adjoining bedroom suite. She caught glimpses of her reflection in the glass windows, the artfully coiffed hair, the expertly applied makeup.

And then one of them brought in the dress. It was very old, simple but elegant, and off the shoulder ivory gown with seed pearls sewn into the bodice.

"Believe it or not, ma'amselle, but this dress belonged to your grandmother," Marguerite said. "Your grandfather, God rest, could never bear to part with it."

She fanned her face as it pinked up and tears welled in her eyes. "You look so much like that dear lady."

"You knew my grandmother?"

" _Mais oui_!" Marguerite said. "She was gentle and kind and very beautiful. Monsieur Harmon looked at her just as Monsieur Damien looks at you. He bought this home for her, you know, and the garden, those trees that still bear fruit, she planted them herself. Your grandmother loved nature, plants, animals."

"How old were you when you came here, Marguerite?" Haley asked.

"I was a young girl of ten when your grandparents hired my mother to cook meals and help look after the housekeeping here. She became very close to your grandmother, like...how you say? Big sister."

"How old were my grandparents?"

"Monsieur was fifteen years older than your grandmother, _cherie_ ," Marguerite said. "And she was practically a child when she married your grandfather. Only twenty years old."

"She would be seventy now," Haley said softly.

"Yes, and your life would have been very different if Madame Erin had lived long enough to see Geoffrey grow up. A child should not grow to a man without his mother to guide him. No matter how much papa may love a boy, he needs his mother too."

"How old was my father when Grandmother died?" Haley asked.

"Barely three years old," she said with a sad sigh. "Madame Erin was your age, _cherie_ , when she was taken away to be a guardian angel."

"Where did you find this dress?" she asked.

"It has been where it always was," Marguerite shrugged. "No one goes through the treasures in the attic. They are buried away under the dust of ages, left only to those who care for the past. Monsieur Damien, when I told him the dress was there, he was thrilled. I can see why, ma'amselle. It is as if it was made just for you. I think perhaps you have your _grandmére's_ spirit within you. And your dear Delia gave you all the mother's love a child could want. It is all the foundation you need, _cherie_."

"Would my grandmother approve of such a...hasty wedding?"

"Monsieur loves you, and you love him. What more do two young people need?" she laughed gaily. "It is going to be a glorious evening, ma'amselle. You will see, and then your happy life together will begin, in this beautiful home that was built with love."

The sun was setting. The garden was filled with even more flowers. At the far end, in the stone gazebo, candlelight flickered. A harpist and violin quartet played soft music as Haley made her way down the stone path carrying a white rose and lily bouquet.

Her eyes met Damien's as she stepped into the gazebo. The minister began the ceremony, and when he asked Haley to repeat her vows, she held up her hand. "No," she said.

Damien's eyes widened with panic.

"I...I have my own vows for Damien," she said, "if neither of you mind."

His eyes softened. "All right," Damien said.

Haley cleared her throat, glanced at their joined hands for a moment before meeting Damien's gaze again. "Ralph Waldo Emerson once wrote, _To finish the moment, to find the journey's end in every step of the road, to live the greatest number of good hours, is wisdom_. I've thought about that quote all week, Damien, about the life that you've so generously offered to me out of love. And I've thought of all the beautiful hours we've had together in the short span of time since we met. Through the sadness of losing Nana, you were by my side. Through my moments of pain and self-doubt, you gave me strength.

"What is time, anyway? It's only an accumulation of moments. The ones that we've shared are already precious to me. So tonight, I promise to give you happiness and tenderness and my complete trust. Love comes easily, but trust is hard. I think for some of us, it's a deeper, more precious gift than anything else.

"Tonight as we begin our new life together, that is my solemn vow to you, to trust you, to care for you, and comfort you. To give you joy and shelter you from the ugliness we both have seen. These are my vows to you, for the rest of my life."

The minister smiled, and read the vows for Damien to recite, the traditional ones that offered promises to love, honor and cherish. In his mind, he heard Siobhan warning him that a woman who couldn't promise to love him never would.

But what if Haley was right? What if trust meant more than love?

He watched her slide a simple platinum ring on his left hand, listened to the minister pray for God's blessing on their marriage, and numbly, felt Haley's cool lips press against his at the end of the ceremony.

The guests—his employees, people who had watched Haley grow up to the age of ten before being summarily dismissed—all applauded. They poured sparkling wine and toasted. They cheered when Haley and Damien fed each other bites of a delicious yet hastily prepared wedding cake. And then they evaporated into the shadows again, leaving the newlyweds alone in the garden.

"Are you upset about my vows?" Haley asked softly. "You've been quiet...distant, since the ceremony ended."

"I thought they were beautiful," Damien said. "Just like you."

Her hands smoothed over the lapels on his coat. "Is it silly for a wife to tell her husband that he's beautiful too?" she grinned.

"Or maybe handsome," he chuckled.

Haley's fingers sifted through his charcoal hair. "You are, you know. Breathtaking even. I meant every word I said to you tonight, Damien. I _do_ trust you, and I want nothing more than to make every day happier than the one before."

"I thought that was my job," he smiled tenderly.

She rose on tiptoe and kissed the corner of his mouth. "Come to bed with me, husband."

"Haley—"

"Please," she whispered. "You promised to love me, Damien, and I need that more than you could ever know. Especially tonight."

Damien anchored her jaw with his thumbs and tilted it upward. "I do love you. But I need to know that you're really ready for this."

She took his hand and backed toward the house. "I need you. We're both ready for this, and I'm your wife now. Unless you think you'll need an annulment—"

He scooped her up in his arms. "No! There won't be an annulment." Damien stepped over the threshold of the house and paused. "You promised forever, Haley."

"And I meant it," she said solemnly. Her fingers stroked the nape of his neck. "We can be happy together. If I didn't believe that, I wouldn't have said _I do_."

He carried her up the spiral staircase and into their suite of rooms. "I feel like I've been holding my breath all afternoon. I was terrified you'd back out at the last second."

"Marguerite helped keep me calm," Haley admitted. "She knew both of my grandparents. Did you know that?"

"I knew that she was here with Harmon, but I doubt she was old enough to have worked for Erin too," he said.

Haley shook her head as Damien walked into their bedroom. He kicked the door shut behind them. "She was a little girl when my grandfather brought his new wife home."

"I see," Damien smiled. "And that helped you?"

"Yes," she said softly. "Did you know that their age difference was about the same as ours? My grandmother was my age when she died though. Do you know how it happened?"

"I don't," Damien said. "Did Marguerite tell you that too?"

"I didn't think to ask," she said as Damien let her slide slowly to her feet. "That's not something I want to think about today anyway." Haley's fingers began plucking at Damien's cravat-style tie until it was loosened enough to remove it. She deftly began to unbutton his shirt.

"Are you going to let me undress you too?" he grinned.

"If you like."

"I'd like that very much," he said. "Turn around. I think there are about a million little buttons on the back of this dress." Damien's lips grazed the nape of her neck as he began loosening the tight closures. "We might want to take extra special care of this dress. Marguerite told me it's a family heirloom. Maybe one day our daughter..." another soft nibble, "or granddaughter would like to wear it at her wedding."

"You...you don't want a son?" Haley murmured.

"I want _you_."

The back of the dress opened, and Damien peeled it away from her, careful of the gauzy lace sleeves. "You were an exquisite bride, my love," Damien said.

She turned slightly so she could look up at him. "You made tonight absolutely perfect, Damien. I couldn't have imagined a more beautiful wedding. And to think I thought this would be the saddest time of my life...saying goodbye to Nana."

"It is sad," he said, "but finding joy in sorrow isn't the worst thing in the world. I hope I never see you cry again, unless they're tears of joy."

"Somehow, I think that life with you will be anything but miserable," Haley said.

Damien slipped the gown off her body, and she stepped out of it, watching him drape it gently over a chair in their bedroom. Haley had never felt shy about her body—not until Damien swept into her life, but tonight, standing by their bed wearing only her shoes, stockings and panties, she felt exposed and vulnerable.

"You're so beautiful," he said reverently. "Surely you know that I treasure you, Haley."

She nodded. "And I you." Her fingers slipped into the gaping opening of his shirt and stroked over the heated flesh. "If this is a dream, don't ever wake me."

His lips brushed hers lightly before settling into a slow kiss, wet, tongues mashing gently.

Haley felt his hands slip inside the skimpy band of her panties and push them down over the curve of her backside. She fumbled with the remaining buttons over his shirt and impatiently pushed the crisp fabric away from his shoulders.

Damien lifted her and sat her on the bed. Kneeling before her, he slowly took her shoes and dropped them with a thud before he rolled her silk stockings down and tossed them aside. His hands gently parted her knees and smoothed up her inner thighs. One finger trailed down the smooth slit of her sex.

"You're wet..."

"I'm very aroused," she whispered. "I've wanted you like this since before the flight over here, Damien."

"Make another promise," he murmured, his tongue following the path of that finger.

Haley moaned. "Oh anything..."

"You'll act on your desire when you feel it. When you want me, you'll tell me like you did tonight." He pulled the petals of her sex open and licked leisurely.

Haley whimpered and fell back on the bed, supporting herself with her elbows as she watched his head settle between her thighs.

"Promise," he growled.

"I swear I will!"

"Mmm...you taste sweeter than I remembered."

Damien's tongue slithered over her silken folds before nestling deep in the vee of her thighs and rubbing her clit. Haley felt one long finger slide deep inside her, thrusting and circling with just enough pressure to set her nerves on fire.

Her thighs spread wider, hips rising rhythmically with the thrust of his finger. Damien added a second, and pulled a deep moan of pleasure from the pit of her belly. Tiny contractions began to pulse against his fingers. He pulled them out and rose to his feet.

"No!" Haley protested. "I was so close!"

Damien grinned wickedly. "I know."

"Why did you stop?"

"Oh, I didn't stop, precious baby. We're just getting started."

Haley watched him finish undressing. Her breath hitched in her throat. "Your body...God, how did I not notice our first night together?"

Damien laughed softly. He scooped Haley into his arms and tossed her to the middle of the bed—and pounced. "Because you were too busy trying to get rid of me. Don't even think about trying that now."

Haley caressed his cheek with one hand. "No, I think I promised to keep you for the rest of your life."

He kissed her deeply. "I love you," he whispered into her mouth. "So much, Haley. You've made me the happiest man who ever lived."

She tensed when he entered her, froze actually. His eyes grabbed hers and held them. "My wife."

"My husband."

Damien withdrew, eased back deeply inside. "How many do you want?" he whispered.

"Babies?"

Damien grinned wickedly. "Well, those too, but I was thinking about the short term. How many orgasms do you want to have tonight? I think six sounds like a nice, round number."

"Six!" she gasped when he slammed into her forcefully. "I've never had more than one at a...oh God!"

His lips attached to one nipple and sucked the hardening nubbin into his mouth while his tongue flicked it without mercy. Damien ground his pelvis into her, his belly pressed flat against hers and felt the swell of her body expanding, that urgent thrust of his manhood pushing her up into his abdomen.

He groaned and let go of her nipple and rose up to watch the thick column of arousal make her belly swell with the telltale shape of his flesh inside her tight channel.

Damien's hands thrust beneath her ass and lifted, changing the angle of penetration to exaggerate the appearance of his cock inside her tiny body. "Sweet Jesus," he groaned.

His eyes flashed up her body to her face. Haley's mouth formed a perfect O as her eyes focused on exactly what he'd been watching.

"Beautiful, isn't it? Seeing how it changes us, being together this way," his voice was a low, burning rasp of passion.

Haley's hand drifted down to her belly and rested over the flesh that protruded with each jab of his cock into her womb.

Damien groaned at the sight of it, aroused beyond reason. His thumb slipped between the petals of her lips and flicked lightly against her clit.

Haley moaned and lifted her hips higher. "More," she gasped. "Oh, Damien, _more_."

With a feral snarl, he pulled out of her and lifted her higher until her knees bent and draped her calves over his shoulders. His mouth latched onto her sex, tongue laving, lips suckling.

Haley's thighs tightened around his head as everything in her body tingled, muscles clamping down hard. Heat streaked through her body as the orgasm slammed through her. The intensity peaked, crested, began to abate and then hit with even more force when Damien's teeth raked over her sensitive nubbin and suckled hard.

White sparks flashed behind her closed eyelids. Air rushed into her lungs painfully before it was released on a shriek of pleasure so intense she thought she might die from it.

Damien eased her to the bed carefully one second before abruptly flipping her onto her stomach the next. He lifted her hips, pulling her back against him swiftly as he entered her with a hard, smooth thrust.

"Christ," he hissed. "You're so hot and wet and _tight_."

Haley hadn't yet recovered from the last shattering release when the plumbing depth of his cock smashing against her womb roughly amped up the arousal she'd felt even more. Another gush of fluid seeped out around where they connected so intimately. One hand slid beneath her, foundling her sex incidentally as she groped for him, to feel where his flesh joined hers. Fingers stroked lightly, fingernails scraping against him when he pulled out almost to the tip.

Damien groaned. "I'm not gonna last much longer, baby."

"This is just the beginning," Haley panted. "I've never felt this much before, Damien...there's nothing between your skin and mine."

His fine thread of control snapped. First time without a condom. With him. She was his in the only way that mattered.

Damien's muscles seized as a flood of semen shot deep into her hot channel. He flipped her over and slid back into her as another gush leaked from his still throbbing cock. He wanted...needed to see her face as they shared the orgasm.

It was the hottest sex he'd ever had...and Damien instantly regretted it. He stared at where they were still joined, that traitorous bastard who wrested his control and ruined everything still belching out the last of the seed into his new wife.

The sorrowful moan passed his lips before he could censor it.

Haley stiffened. "What's wrong?"

Pained eyes lifted and met her somewhat dazed expression. "I wanted it to be..."

"Tender? Romantic?" she whispered.

Damien nodded.

A grin quivered at the corners of her lips. "Next time. This has been brewing for too long to be anything but explosive, Damien. I wouldn't have wanted our first time to be any other way."

"But I wanted you to feel how much I love you."

Her muscles clenched around the cock still semi-aroused and buried deep in her pussy. "What makes you think I don't feel loved? Round one, you gave me half of what you promised tonight."

Damien's remorse slid away into the warm, buttery sheath encasing him. "Three, huh?"

"I've never come so hard in my life."

He eased himself down over her lithe body. "I love you so much, Haley. But I'd hoped that this would be more than just hot sex."

Her finger trailed lightly over his lips. "Loving you is the most frightening thing I've ever done in my life."

Damien's breath froze in his lungs.

She continued as if she hadn't noticed. "I was terrified of it...well, I still am a little bit. But being with you tonight, making love with you whether it's hot and wild, or steamy and passionate, slow and tender, it doesn't really matter. The connection is here."

Her hand ghosted over her heart briefly before pressing to his, "And here. I feel it when you hold my hand, when you leave little love notes, when you remind me to bring a sweater so I don't get cold, when you tempt me to eat with foods that only a fool could resist. Damien, don't you see?"

Wonder filled his eyes as he shook his head lightly.

"I could never give you my complete trust if you didn't already have my love too."

"But why were you afraid to say it, to tell me?"

"I love you," she whispered the words that weren't meant to sound like the question Damien heard.

"Yes. Why were you afraid to say it?"

Haley shrugged, a hint of self-loathing flickering through her eyes.

"You're not a whore," he said softly. "Haley, I love you, every part of you. Don't get me wrong. I'm glad that the past is buried now, but if it hadn't been for that one night when we found each other, I wouldn't have a wife, or hope, or the happiness that I've felt from the moment I knew that I love you."

Applause, slow and mocking sounded from the corner near the open terrace doors. Damien froze, save for instinctively shielding Haley with his body.

Chapter 23

The shadow stepped into the room. "What a convincing performance, Mr. DeMarcus," the cold male voice said softly. "If I didn't know you better, I'd almost believe you."

"Victor," Haley hissed softly as her pent up breath released in a whoosh.

"I knew you'd remember me, you gold digging bitch. Now it's time to see if your new husband truly values you. Get up, DeMarcus, and move slowly."

"No," he said flatly. "Whatever you want, you can have."

"Damien, no!" Haley gasped.

Victor's sinister grin permeated the darkness. "Don't listen to her, DeMarcus. If you don't pay me, the people who hired me to do this will be very upset that they have to deal with _her_ until you have a change of heart. Either you give me the bulk of your wealth now, sign everything over to me, or I take the girl and you start getting pieces of her back until you comply with the...request."

"Tell me who hired you, how much they're paying you," Damien said quietly.

"Are you going to outbid them for my services?" Victor moved across the room and flicked on a lamp so Damien and Haley got a good look at the gun trained on them. "I suppose they considered that possibility, since they've promised me my pick of your stateside casinos to take for my own."

"Damien, don't do this," Haley pleaded.

"Oh there's a surprise," Victor sneered. "The gold-digging whore doesn't want you to give up your wealth."

"We can be paupers for all I care," she murmured. "I don't like the idea of you giving up everything you've worked so hard to achieve. Your work matters to you."

"You matter more," Damien said. He reached for the edge of the bedding and pulled it over Haley before moving away from her. "I take it that my written agreement to turn over all of my holdings to these people will suffice?"

"To me," Victor said, eyes gleaming with greed.

"No deal. I want the names of the people who hired you," Damien's demeanor turned lethal and chilling, despite the fact that he now stood in front of Victor Fontaine completely nude and vulnerable.

The hesitation followed by an audible click as Fontaine swallowed back his own fear and misgivings echoed loudly in the room.

"You plan to go after them, don't you?"

Damien smiled. "Them or you, it doesn't matter much to me, Fontaine. You think I care about the money, what I'd be giving up to these bastards? I don't. I'll just be that much more determined to utterly destroy them by any means I have. And if you think the assets of loyalty are something that can be taken along with my businesses, think again."

The gun in Victor's hand trembled, lightly, just enough to give away his discomfiture. "Listen, Damien...I don't think these people plan to give me anything."

"Yet here you are, demanding on their behalf anyway. Did you get yourself into another financial jam with them?"

A slow flush crept up Fontaine's neck. "It's not like that."

Damien laughed, the frigid sound completely without humor. "They caught you cheating, and now they're holding it over your head. Do their bidding, or they'll turn you over to the authorities. Must've been one hell of a scam for you to resort to something like this."

"A little harmless fun that got out of hand," Fontaine chuckled warily. "They don't realize that you married her, DeMarcus. It might change everything."

Damien nodded slowly. "I can see how it might make them more confident that this scheme to leave me penniless will work." He shrugged. "Then again, I'm a man of a certain reputation. Perhaps they will think that I'll simply find another woman to fulfill my needs."

Behind him, he heard Haley's soft gasp.

"Get up and get dressed, Haley," he continued. "Fontaine might hate you, but he isn't going to hurt you."

Fontaine grinned. "You're turning her over to me? You do realize how much I hate this woman. In the space of three short years, she managed to extort over a hundred thousand dollars of _my_ inheritance."

Damien glanced over his shoulder, sensing Haley's movement without actually seeing it. Something clicked in his mind. "Yes, that does seem to be a recurrent theme these days. Hatred for the one you perceive took an inheritance."

Fontaine laughed. "Surely you don't think I'd stoop to conspiring with the likes of _her_."

"Don't forget your sweater, Haley. It's on the top shelf in the closet," Damien said.

Haley, shaken to her toes that Victor Fontaine would abduct her to force Damien to turn over his casinos and wealth, stumbled toward the large walk-in closet and was actually inside when her husband's directions registered.

"On the top shelf?" she whispered.

There were many shelves in the closet, most of them empty, but her sweaters were all hanging. Quickly she dressed and reached for one of her sweaters before realizing that Damien must've wanted her to find _something_ on the top shelf.

Her fingers grappled to reach the height of it, before clasping onto a hard plastic case. It had a handle. Carefully, she hooked one finger under the protruding piece and tugged gently. She pulled it down. Etched on the front of it were the words _Sig Sauer_.

"What the hell?"

Haley quickly opened the box, gasped when she looked inside, and took a hasty step back from it.

It was a small, black handgun, loaded.

Haley had only seen guns in the movies and on television. She'd never held one, never loaded one, certainly never fired one. Yet the idea of someone hurting Damien in any way compelled her forward. Her fingers curled around the butt of the gun, and she lifted it from the case.

"Hurry up in there!" Fontaine yelled. More muffled, she heard him add, "How long does it take one woman to throw on some clothes?"

Haley steeled her will and clasped the gun firmly. She stepped out of the closet, lifted it and started squeezing the trigger in Fontaine's general direction.

Damien dove for Fontaine when he hit the floor. It didn't take much of an effort to grab the man's gun and toss it away.

Shrieking from the first floor of the villa grew louder, along with footsteps as the staff rushed to see what had happened.

The door crashed open and half a dozen men rushed Fontaine and Damien. One of them pulled Damien away and shoved him back while the other five started pounding Fontaine mercilessly.

"For God's sake, don't kill him," Damien growled. Unbothered by his nudity in front of the crowd, he walked briskly toward Haley and pried the gun from her trembling grip.

Her large eyes turned up to meet him, watery, dilated, shocky. One arm curled around her waist as Damien pulled her into his side and pressed his lips against her forehead. "Good girl," he murmured. "Very good girl."

He turned back to the men who now had a bloody, half-conscious Victor Fontaine pulled up under his arms to his knees. "Secure him, get him out of our bedroom, and make sure he's wide awake when I get downstairs to question him."

"Damien," her voice quivered. "Please don't leave me!"

He tugged her along behind him back into the closet. "Shh," Damien soothed, pulling her tightly against him. "I will never let anyone harm you, baby, but I have to find out if there really is someone else behind this threat."

Haley sniffled, her tears dripping and rolling down Damien's chest. "This sort of thing happens to you all the time?"

After a bitter and humorless laugh, "There have been a few attempts at extortion, none as dramatic as this one. Fontaine's been a pain in the ass for years, but I never took him for the type to get sucked into something like this. Nothing illegal enough that would result in a lengthy prison sentence for sure."

"I'm coming with you."

"Haley..."

"No," she said adamantly. "You were just going to give him what he wanted, Damien!"

"I sure as hell wasn't going to let him abscond with my wife," he frowned. "Why would you expect me to place more value on my casinos, on money, than I do on your life? Jesus, did you not hear what he threatened to do? They were going to send me pieces of you until I agreed to give in to their demands."

"I'm not worth a dime, Damien. And my parents owed you so much more than what you got out of their estate."

His fingers bit into her upper arms. "If you say that one more time I'll..."

"You'll what?" she whispered.

"I'll be tempted to blister your backside."

Her watery smile melted Damien's ire.

"Haley, no amount of money is worth more than your life. I love you. Did you forget that the second some idiot showed up and made threats he couldn't possible enact?"

"I would've gone with him."

"You came out fighting, and I'm so proud of you," he tilted her dipped chin up with one strong index finger. "I have to get dressed and go find out who put him up to this nonsense. You're coming with me—but only as far as where my men can guard you."

Haley's forehead creased in confusion. "I've never seen you with bodyguards before."

"That's because they're very good at what they do, which is blending into the background so nobody notices them. I doubled the number because half of them are now yours. I'm a very wealthy man, sweetheart. We can't afford to take risks."

Three of the faces in the room flashed in front of her eyes. "The men who guarded the yacht the other day at lunch..."

"Yes, and three more now who will watch me, as I won't risk you to men I don't already know and trust implicitly."

"But—"

"No buts. I know the other men, just not as well as I know Todd, Ramón and Duncan. But _they_ know my new security team. In fact they hand-picked them."

"What if they're part of this?" Haley chewed her lower lip. "People can be bought if the price is right. I'm living proof of that."

Damien stepped away from her and began dressing hastily. "Paulo, Rick and Leonid came to me via Interpol, Haley. They have impeccable credentials, and I pay my men very generously. You have nothing to fear."

Haley stepped closer to him and smoothed her hand down the sweater Damien had hastily donned. "If that's true, how did Victor get into our bedroom tonight?" she asked.

Damien's lips tightened into a thin line. "An excellent question, one I aim to get answered very quickly."

Chapter 24

Damien passed Haley off to Todd, Ramón and Duncan with a terse, "Protect her or else," expression on his face. She found herself ushered away to the kitchen where Marguerite was busy preparing hot chocolate on the gigantic stove.

" _Ah ma petit mouton,_ _mon dieu!_ Thank heaven you are unharmed."

Haley barely acknowledged the comment, or took the time to analyze the _lamb_ endearment uttered in French that Nana always used. Instead she focused on her security team. "How did Victor Fontaine get in this house without your knowledge?"

All three men stiffened into an almost comic military posture, but only Todd spoke. "We're not sure, ma'am. Yet."

She noted the muscle ticking in his jaw as he ground out that single word.

"You're upset about this, aren't you?"

"Of course they are," Marguerite said. "They take monsieur's safety very seriously, Haley. Come. Drink your cocoa and try to relax. We shall have you back to your wedding night in no time at all."

She shuddered.

"Oh, none of that now," Marguerite said softly. "Damien loves you, lamb. Let him soothe away all of this fear. No matter what happens, he will keep you safe, though I expect that you will not be spending the rest of your honeymoon here."

One of Damien's new security guards walked briskly into the kitchen and murmured something to Duncan. They both hurried from the room.

"What was that? What's happening?" Haley jumped from her seat at the breakfast bar.

"Most likely they're beginning the search for how Fontaine got into the house," Ramón said.

"Shouldn't you be helping them?"

"No," he said. "Damien wants us guarding you, Mrs. DeMarcus, until he's finished talking to Fontaine."

Todd pressed one finger to his right ear, then held his wrist to his lips. "Copy that, Duncan. We'll meet you at the front of the residence."

"Meet whom?" Haley's alarm spiked.

"Mr. DeMarcus wants you taken to the property in Monte Carlo, ma'am. He'll meet us there later."

"I am _not_ leaving without Damien!"

Todd turned his back to her and muttered something else into the radio at his wrist. "Affirmative," she heard when he turned back toward her. "We'll wait until he's finished. Apparently, Mr. DeMarcus is almost finished talking to Fontaine anyway."

The words were barely out of his mouth when Damien entered the kitchen. He reached for Haley's hand and tugged her into his arms. "Are you alright?"

"Your chin is bruised," she rose on tiptoe and kissed the purpling flesh softly.

"The scuffle for the gun. Let's get out of here. I don't know about you, but I don't think I'll be able to sleep in that room until I know for sure how Fontaine got in it."

"He wouldn't talk?"

Damien gritted his teeth. "No. The police are coming to pick him up, and we'll go make official statements about what happened tomorrow morning."

"Then what?" she asked.

"Then I get you home where I can control...where I know that nobody can get near you."

"Damien—"

"Shh," he pressed two fingers against her lips. "No arguments, love. We'll spend the night in my suite at the resort in Monte Carlo, and head home as soon as possible."

"I don't want to go back yet," she said quietly.

Damien tugged her close to his side and began walking toward where his car waited for them at the front of the house. "Tell me why you're more comfortable being here, being close to whoever it was that blackmailed Fontaine into trying to kidnap you." He held the back door of the car open for her.

Haley slid in and twisted her fingers in her lap while she waited for Damien to settle beside her.

"Well?" he prompted.

"Um..."

"Haley."

"Does your...does..."

Damien sighed. "No, I haven't told Siobhan that we're married yet. I get your point. But sweetheart, she'll be relieved that you already knew about the business with your parent's debt. She was only afraid that you'd hurt me when you found out the truth."

"Me, hurt you?" she scoffed.

Damien clasped her knotted fingers in his hands. "Baby, she knew that I was falling hard for you, that you were the flame to my moth. She didn't want me to get hurt, and she was convinced that you'd hate me forever if you learned the truth."

Haley scoffed. "It was a matter of public record, Damien. How could I _not_ know? I'm not sure if that's why Nana was so upset that you were...well, that you knew me. I think part of it was that she believed the rumors about you in general."

"Nana's ashes," he murmured. "We haven't scattered them yet."

"And I'm not going to scatter them until we know who's trying to steal everything from you."

Damien grinned. "From _us_ , sweetheart. What's mine is yours now."

Haley groaned. "We didn't sign a prenup! Siobhan is going to hate me even more."

"I trust you."

Haley drew one leg up on the seat as she turned to face her new husband. "Do you really? For a moment, I thought you might suspect that I had something to do with what Fontaine did tonight. You said something, about hatred for the person who stripped one of his inheritance. Were you talking about me?"

"No," he said adamantly. "I wanted Fontaine's reaction."

"Why? He'd already said that was why he hates me so much. A paltry hundred thousand dollars isn't anything to the Fontaine family. They're worth hundreds of millions."

Damien's jaw set grimly. "Indeed they are. But whoever is behind this blames me for a lost fortune, Haley. I told you that we went after debts owed, that in my youth, I foolishly extended credit to people who felt too entitled to ever pay what they owed."

"Like my parents," she whispered.

"Yes, like your parents. But there were many others, and as far as I'm concerned, we can't rule any of them out just yet. Whoever is behind this knew of Fontaine's penchant for trying to beat the system in casinos. They had to have kept close tabs on him in order to force his cooperation."

" _If_ he told the truth at all," Haley said.

Damien pulled her into his lap and kissed the side of her head. "We'll figure it out. In the meantime, I'll tell Siobhan what's going on, and that plans are very fluid right now, so I'm not sure when we'll be back."

"Do you mean that?" Haley's hope buoyed, enough that Damien could've sensed it from a mile away.

"She's probably going to need some time to get used to the idea," he conceded, "but she _will_ accept that I chose to spend the rest of my life with you."

Haley shivered.

"Are you cold?"

"No."

"Don't lie to me," he said. "Christ, you're still in shock."

"I'm not," Haley insisted. "It just does things to me when you say things like that."

"Like what?" Damien asked.

"You want to spend the rest of your life with me."

"Ah," his hand smoothed through her hair and down Haley's back. "Well, I'd planned to spend the foreseeable future in bed with you proving just how much I want you in my life, how much I love you. You know, generally worshipping your body and your mind and soul."

"I hate Victor Fontaine for ruining our wedding night," Haley whispered.

"He ruined nothing." Damien tilted her chin up until she could look nowhere else but into his eyes. "Tell me that you doubt how much I love you now, how you mean more to me than anything else in the world."

Haley blushed. "Does that mean we won't...um..."

Damien's hand at her waist tightened its grip. "It doesn't mean I'm not ripping your clothes off and making love to you until dawn just the second we get to my suite at the resort." His teeth nipped her lower lip. "You're going to be screaming my name over and over. I'm going to show you how good making love really feels."

He slipped his hand between her legs and began stroking her through the worn denim of her jeans. It wasn't enough to do more than ignite her desire and keep it burning low, but so intense her eyes glazed over.

"You taste so good," Damien murmured. "Sweet and hot and slippery. I planned to feast on you before things got weird...clean up the mess I made down there before starting all over again. The nice thing about that temporary interruption is that I get to start all over again. I'm taking you into our bathroom and washing you until you're squeaky clean, and then we'll begin again, Haley."

She arched her back, pushing her aroused nipples high. Damien leaned down, nuzzled and nipped at the hardening peaks through her blouse. Hot breath penetrated the flimsy film covering her skin, and Haley moaned in response.

"Soon, baby. Very soon we'll be in our room."

"I can't wait," she gasped. "Please, Damien. I need to feel you inside me now."

Damien increased the pressure of fingers against her denim clad clit and swooped in for a deep kiss. Haley began writhing against him.

"I love you desperate," he whispered into her mouth. "I love you aching for me. Do you have any idea how it makes me feel?"

Haley whimpered in response.

"Tell me nobody made you feel what I do," he growled. "Say it!"

"Nobody," her voice trembled while her body twisted against him in a quest for greater contact. "Nobody but you, Damien."

He smiled. "We're at the resort, love. Upstairs. Now."

Chapter 25

Haley wobbled toward the lobby doors at Damien's luxury resort. He'd gotten her so aroused on the drive from the villa that her knees felt like over-cooked spaghetti. Her pulse raced. Her vision was reduced to a tight pinpoint of awareness—her husband. People spoke to her as they walked through the lobby.

It sounded muffled and distant.

Someone offered her a bouquet of flowers. Damien accepted and held it close enough for her to sniff.

She smelled only the musk of his skin, his arousal, that unique scent that made her feel wild and animalistic.

A flute of champagne was tilted to her lips. Damien's amused expression appeared as he prompted her to sip.

It was flat, without flavor or fizz. Nothing could remove the taste of Damien's kiss from her mouth.

"I think she's exhausted."

She heard distant snickers, some ribbing about _or something_ from the small group of Damien's men that surrounded them.

Haley simply turned and pressed herself closer to Damien's side. "Please," she whispered. "Please, Damien."

"Good evening, gentleman. Unless you learn anything that you know can't wait until morning, please don't disturb us tonight."

Damien maneuvered her into the bathroom when they arrived at his penthouse suite. He quickly stripped her clothing after adjusting the water in the large shower.

"I thought we were taking a bath," she murmured, still dazed from the fog of arousal he'd created.

"Change of plans."

Damien lifted her against him. Haley's legs wrapped around his waist. "Shower is quicker, more efficient," he explained. "And believe it or not, I'm just as eager as you are to resume our wedding night."

Evidence of his readiness nestled between the lips of her sex. Haley wiggled until the fat, mushroomed head slid inside her. "Now, Damien. Forget the shower. I need you now."

Damien chuckled. "Wait for it. I promise, it'll be worth it."

He stepped inside the large, marble tiled shower and eased her down to the floor. Her frustration was so keen, he half expected her to stomp her feet in protest. Damien didn't give her time to think. He dropped down to the tiled bench in the shower and grabbed the single removable showerhead in one hand and patted his thigh with the other.

"Sit, facing away from me leaning forward."

Haley moaned and positioned herself over his thighs as she eased back. His cock teased her entrance.

"Sit up, baby. Take me inside you," he murmured.

Haley eagerly followed his direction and sighed her pleasure. He filled her completely, stretching her again. The urgent throbbing inside her intensified.

Damien positioned her knees over his thighs and spread his legs wide, opening her. "Brace yourself on my legs and ride me, baby," he whispered against her ear as he nipped the fleshy lobe.

She whimpered again, but set a hard, rapid pace.

"Slowly," Damien said. "We've got the rest of our lives, love. No need to rush through this."

With the showerhead in his left hand, he reached over with his right and adjusted the spray from the gentle misting to the pounding massage jets. Damien aimed it first at her shoulders before gradually lowering it until it began thundering away at her right nipple.

Her muscles contracted, squeezing him hard as she rode him, up, down, up, down, nice and slow. He felt the tremors in her arms as she used his legs for leverage.

"Feel good?" he murmured.

"More."

He aimed the jets at her left nipple, letting the water skirt all around her nipple until it tightened in anticipation. With his free hand, he reached around and flicked it with his fingernail.

Haley shrieked. "Oh God!"

"Slow down," he whispered, taking the stimulating water away from her breasts and aiming it at her belly, into her navel.

She made a soft, agonized gurgle in the back of her throat and started riding him harder, faster.

Damien knew she was almost at the point where he wouldn't be able to pull her back from the rushing orgasm she was about to have. His right hand slid between her legs, opening her lips. One finger slid lightly over her clit. Her muscles contracted so hard he nearly lost control.

Aiming the stream of pounding water, Damien held the showerhead between her legs and let the water hammer her aching clit.

He'd never felt anything so exquisite as that moment when she came, so hard she couldn't catch her breath to scream. She just slammed her hips down against his thighs, taking every inch of his cock deep inside her. The pulsing muscles clenched tighter, tighter, almost becoming painful for him.

Damien dropped the shower head and rose, one arm bisected her belly and bent her forward where she instantly braced herself against the wall of the shower. He began thrusting hard, claiming her again with harsh but fluid strokes into her core.

She shuddered and climaxed harder.

"Damien!" she screamed as waves of pleasure brought flashes of light behind her closed eyelids.

"I love you," he snarled as he continued to thrust into her. "No one will ever come between us, ever take you away from me. We'll make love. Sometimes we'll fuck hard, just like this. I'm going to give you my babies, Haley, and you'll be the best mother—"

She gasped and experienced yet another crushing orgasm. Her fingers clawed at the tiles on the shower wall. "Please... oh please, baby, it's too much, too much!"

Damien growled and shot deeply into her womb.

They stood panting, Haley still bent over his arms with her hands against the shower wall, and Damien growing softer inside the warm sheath that belonged to him now. His fingers gripped her hips tightly.

"I love you too, baby," Haley said softly.

And Damien felt blood surge to his cock again. "It makes me hard as stone when you call me that."

Haley ground her hips against him. "Baby, baby, baby. I love you so much."

Damien pulled out of her and turned her around to face him. Their eyes met, his dark with a dangerous edge, hers full of promise and love.

"I will _never_ let you go."

Haley smiled shyly. "Good. I'm getting rather fond of being Mrs. DeMarcus. This whole name change idea of yours was a very good one."

Damien washed her with brisk efficiency before finishing his shower and tugging her out behind him. He dried her with a towel while he air dried. "Bed. Now."

Haley yawned.

He grinned. "My beautiful wife is tired."

"It's been a long day," she mumbled around the second in quick succession.

"Let's go cuddle up and fuck again," Damien suggested.

She arched one eyebrow.

"I still feel like an animal. Until the beast is tamed, I'm not sure I'll be able to do slow, gentle and passionate."

"You really wanted me that much?"

"I figured either you'd come to me or I'd die in sexual frustration waiting and hoping you'd come to your senses."

Haley loosed the towel he'd draped around her and flopped onto the bed, which someone had turned down before they arrived. "Does this require more acrobatics?"

Her legs bent at the knees and flopped open until they lay only a fraction of an inch above the mattress. Damien licked his lips and crawled up the bed until his face was close to her labia, but not touching.

"You have the most gorgeous pussy I've ever seen."

The twitch he saw, the slight contraction of the small opening to the sweetest heaven he'd ever known, was unmistakable.

"You don't need vaginoplasty any more than I need a penile implant. You're so hot, and tight..." His tongue lightly skimmed around her entrance. "Sweet, like sugared cream."

Her chest began to rise and fall more rapidly.

Damien's thumbs slipped between her lips and spread her wide for closer examination. The tip of her clit poked out of its little hood, gleaming like a pink, wet jewel. Damien blew softly while his eyes gazed up into her face. Goose flesh rippled across her taut little belly.

"You're getting me hot again," she whispered.

"I know. But all I want you to do is lay there, perfectly still for as long as you possibly can. No matter how good it feels, I want you to fight it."

"Fight it?"

Damien's tongue poked out and lapped slowly just below her clit eliciting a gasp. "Fight it. Try hard not to come. When you feel the contractions start, resist it."

"Why would I want to do that?"

He grinned wickedly, "Because the longer you fight it, the more powerful it'll be when it hits. And the second you start coming, I'm sliding in here," his tongue teased her hole, "and I'm gonna fuck you while you come so hard, that it's gonna feel like you're squeezing my cock off."

Haley blushed. "I thought we already did that."

"More," he mouthed as he settled between her legs and started making her cunt weep in anticipation with his tongue. He painted light, short strokes, everywhere but on her clit. It distended and swelled, like a flower reaching for its sun.

Damien slid one finger inside her and found something Haley never believed existed—her g-spot. More fluid gushed between her legs.

"Stay still," he said, rubbing with the firm, thick pad of his finger. His mouth settled in a similar motion just above her clit, wiggling the thick cord beneath her skin back and forth, popping the sensitive nubbin out of its sheath even more. It glanced against the stubble on his chin.

Every time it did, Haley gasped. It felt like tiny electrical shocks that rippled through her, exciting every nerve ending in her body.

"Fight it," Damien whispered when the telltale contractions caused her body to tighten on his finger. He dug in harder, rubbing inside against her pelvic bone with renewed intensity.

Haley sucked in a deep breath. The warmth spreading through her body was too much to resist, but she tried. She moaned low and deep in the back of her throat. "Oh Jesus, Damien...I can't hold on much longer."

He sucked her clit between his lips and let his tongue lash over it mercilessly while his finger pressed and rubbed even deeper into her pelvic bone.

Haley's eyes glazed, her head tilted back, smashed deep in the pillows on the bed. Her mouth opened for a spectacular scream.

Damien pulled his finger out and hefted her shapely little ass into his hands and impaled her on his cock.

The screams bounced off the walls of their suite. Damien held her hips tilted upward so the head of his cock continued to hammer at her g-spot.

Muscles seized around him, sent him hurtling over the abyss with her as he spurted thick cords of his essence into her body. He eased her body into a more manageable angle and pounded into her deeply while she experienced a second orgasm, then a third. She'd catch her breath, and start contracting against him harder until she'd milked every drop of come into her greedy womb.

He eased himself gently down and nestled his face between her breasts. "These are perfect too," he murmured. Fingers grasped one breast and thrust it into his mouth. Damien drew on the nipple gently, tongue laving like a cat lapping milk.

"You're going to kill me," she groaned.

"Never. But I can't ever get enough of you either," he said. His mouth resumed its ministrations, nibbling a path from one nipple to the other and back again. "Will you let me suckle when these are full of milk?" he asked. "Because that idea turns me on so much. I'd like to suck you dry and make you come so hard just from my lips feeding at your breast."

Haley moaned. Her hips rolled up lightly.

"And we're ready for round four," Damien grinned.

"No you don't," she swatted the roaming hand away from her belly before it could reach its target. Haley shoved against Damien until he flopped onto his back.

"This time, it's my turn to drive _you_ wild," Haley said. She cupped his sac lovingly with one hand while the other gripped the base of his cock. She held it up and began licking, like he was the most delicious thing she'd ever tasted.

Damien groaned and sank back into the plush bed, convinced that he had the sexiest, most sensuous wife in all of time. In truth, he'd reached his limit—or so he believed until she drew him so deeply, he felt his cock swell with need and touch the back of her throat.

"Ah, God, baby, that feels so good," he murmured. "But turn around and let me play with your pussy while you suck me."

Haley's deep moan rippled over his flesh as she skillfully moved without relinquishing her mouth from his cock and rested her knees beside his upper chest on the mattress.

"Mmm," he murmured. "Pretty pussy. It's so red and wet right now." Damien's fingers slithered through the slickness of their combined fluids and painted a trail of moisture to her tight rosebud.

Her hips involuntarily sank back against the tip of his finger resting over her perfect little hole until the pad partly slid into the tight ring of flesh. Haley's lips clamped down on his cock and she groaned in pleasure, letting up on the pressure momentarily a moment later to gasp.

"Yes! Oh God, yes!"

Damien grinned wickedly and lifted his head until his tongue replaced that fingertip to poke insistently at the resisting ring.

Haley's thighs started to shake, and Damien realized just how hungry his new wife really was for every pleasure he planned to give her, over and over until they collapsed in a sweaty, exhausted heap hours later.

Chapter 26

Haley woke the next morning, at least she assumed it was morning, and found Damien on his side peering at her with an expression she couldn't quite define. Tendrils of unease unraveled in her belly and rose like climbing vines to choke her.

Damien was fully dressed.

"What's wrong?" she whispered. "Something else happened, didn't it?"

He answered with only a slow nod.

"Damien, you're frightening me." Haley pulled the sheet up to her neck and inched away from him. That unknown expression in his eyes darkened to the blackest rage she'd ever seen.

"Tell me you didn't know," came the coarse, harsh command.

"Whatever has upset you, I'm sorry. I _don't_ know!"

He reached out quickly and grasped her wrists tugging her close. One hand manacled her wrists together behind her back while the other gripped her chin tightly and lifted it until he could search her eyes for any sign of deception.

It was obvious to Haley that whatever had happened, he doubted her innocence and expected that she was somehow involved.

Tears sprang to her eyes, fat and hot.

Damien cursed softly under his breath. His demeanor changed instantly from livid with rage to remorseful. Arms wound around Haley gently. "I'm sorry, Haley," he whispered urgently. "I had to know, and I didn't want to doubt you, but it looks so bad, and they're claiming that you were part of it all along."

Not mollified by his apology for the lack of trust in the least, Haley wiggled free and backed away from where he'd pulled her to her knees. She almost went head over heels off the side of the bed. Haley tripped over the sheet she grabbed to cover her nakedness.

"You stay away from me," she whispered. "Just...just stay away."

"Haley—"

"No!" she found her voice, and it boomed through the room. "I don't know what happened, have no idea who _they_ are, but one thing is perfectly clear to me. You don't trust me. _At all_. And you can't really love someone that you don't trust. So let's just go our separate ways now, and forget the mistake we made last night."

"Haley, please let me explain."

She shook her head adamantly, still as she backed toward the bathroom. "Where's my phone? I need to get back home, far away from you, Damien."

"Baby, please, you don't understand!" desperation tinged his voice, and his remorse deepened so much that it indeed did prick Haley's curiosity.

What was this Jekyll and Hyde routine all about anyway? What could've possibly happened between the moment that they collapsed from sexual exhaustion in a sweet cocoon of replete bliss to turn him into this frightening man who looked like he wanted to kill her one second before transforming into the apologetic man before her now?

Her head kept shaking and one hand extended in front of her as Damien advanced with every retreating step she took. Self-preservation won the battle over curiosity hands down. "Stay back," she whispered thickly.

"Okay, I won't come any closer if you stop running away," he reasoned. "I shouldn't have been angry, but when they told me—"

" _Who_ told you?" she asked sharply.

"My security... _our_ security team."

"Yours," she said softly. "I don't have one. And I don't have a marriage. If this is your idea of marriage, I want no part of it."

"Will you please just let me explain?"

Her head wagged again, slower this time. "Whatever it is, I don't want to know. I just want to leave and go somewhere safe, somewhere away from men like you and Victor Fontaine. I'm done, Damien. I'm...done."

He itched to cover the space separating them, that much was obvious. Haley watched his aborted movement, the hands that clenched at his sides rhythmically, the tension that bunched his muscular frame until he looked like a spring about to coil to its breaking point.

Damien gritted his teeth. "Just where do you think you'll go? Fontaine can find you at home. It wasn't hard to do, Haley. I won't allow anyone—"

"I'm not one of your baubles," she interrupted. "You can't put me on display somewhere you think is safe. And maybe you're the one I need protection from most of all."

As if on cue, Todd, one of Damien's security men, burst into the room. "Boss, they've been..." his voice trailed off as his eyes nearly bugged out of his skull at the sight of Haley's unclothed state and the abject terror on her face.

"Christ, you _told her that her parents are still alive?_ I asked you to wait until the authorities could make a positive identification!"

Haley's hand clapped over her mouth, but barely muffled the shriek of shock that escaped her parted lips. Suddenly, it all made sense. And then the world folded in on her, heavy and black and as ugly as the rest of her life had been. It was the last thing she remembered before darkness completely enveloped her.

*~ *~ *~*~*

Damien leapt forward in an attempt to catch Haley before she hit the floor.

"You didn't tell her that we're not letting anyone near her? Jesus, what the hell is wrong with you this afternoon?" Todd barked harshly. "I've never seen you act this way before, boss."

"A little help," Damien hissed as he found himself about to lose his tenuous grip on Haley's limp form.

Todd ignored the sheet that did hit the floor and lifted underneath Haley's knees. They carried her quickly to the bed. "You let her think they were coming after her, didn't you?" he accused.

"No," Damien snarled. He flipped the duvet over her naked body and shoved Todd back a couple of steps from the bed. "Stay away from her, and don't come back in this room unless a meteor is about to hit the hotel or the place is on fire. Is that clear?"

"You don't want to know what happened?"

Damien sighed and raked frustrated fingers through his hair. "Tell me, but make it quick."

"The _gendarmerie_ found them hiding in a network of tunnels beneath the chateau we had no idea existed. Looked like they'd been camped out there for some time, a week, perhaps two."

Damien eyed Todd speculatively. "Any evidence that they've been aware of their _daughter's_ fate?"

The security officer nodded. "They've got surveillance photos of her, boss. Looks like they've been watching her for years."

Damien cursed.

"Look, I realize this is messy, but there is absolutely no evidence whatsoever that your wife was aware of _any_ of this, Damien. Hell, she's practically scared of her own shadow. I told you what we learned about her before you ever flew to France. It was like that side of her that worked her business was the aberration. Everybody that actually had contact with who she really was said she was sweet and shy and timid as a—"

"I know," he growled. "Get out. I need to make amends with my wife for assuming that nobody could be as naïve as we both know she really is."

Todd was staring at the bed.

Damien followed his gaze to Haley's wide, horrified eyes.

"You thought I _knew_?" she gasped. "You thought I was _part of this_?"

"I'll uh...just go," Todd began his hasty retreat.

"Don't you dare leave this room!" Haley shouted. She flung back the covers and pushed past Damien on her way to the bathroom. "I'm getting dressed, and when I'm finished, you're taking me to the airport."

Damien stormed through the bathroom door just as fast as she'd slammed it behind her. "Don't pretend you wouldn't have had the very same concerns I had, Haley. If our roles were reversed here—"

She spun on her heel. Fury made her eyes glitter like flaming amethysts. " _If_ our roles were reversed, I'd have had the sense to realize who initiated our _acquaintance_ in the first place! I'd remember who pursued whom! I'd also recall which one of us was practically _stalked_ by the other when Nana died!"

Damien felt the tremor ripple through him in the face of her very righteous and justified indignation. "Then maybe you just don't love me as much as I love you, if you can't understand how the very hint that you might've deceived and betrayed me could make me go insane with irrational fear."

Stiff angry motions jerked Haley's bra and panties over her naked flesh. "You don't know what love is, Damien."

He growled, "And you obviously do, having been showered with so much of it for all your life."

The pendulum swung the other direction, rage replaced by devastating pain. Haley's eyes spilled tears in rapid succession. "You unimaginable bastard."

"Maybe I am a bastard, but I'm _your_ bastard, and if you think I'm going to let you run away from me, you're in for a big surprise, Haley."

She turned her back on him and pulled a sweater over her head. One hand yanked a pair of jeans from her bag and snapped them out in the air in front of her. Haley shoved one leg in, followed by the other. The zipper was the only audible sound over their heated, angry breaths.

"I won't let you leave me," Damien said stubbornly. "I reacted. I was wrong. I told you I'm sorry."

Haley turned back to him slowly and stiffened her spine. One tiny fist dashed at the tears that continued to fall. "Not enough, Damien. You can't just say, _gee I'm sorry I thought the absolute worst of you_ and expect me to understand and forgive it. But you're right. I may not know what love is, based on my life experience so far, but if what you've given me _is_ love, then I really am sure it's the last thing in the world that I want."

Damien blocked the bathroom door with his solid mass. "You're _not_ leaving me."

"Then you're holding me hostage?" her words were tinged with incredulity, hostility even.

"Goddammit, no!"

"I want to leave. Either you let me, or this is kidnapping."

Damien forced himself to relax. "I'm asking... _begging_ you not to leave. At least not yet. I think we both need to calm down and talk before making any rash decisions. Or declarations," he said.

"You," she hissed, jabbing a finger in his chest when she advanced on him, "should've thought about that _before_ you assumed that I was part of some scheme to defraud you out of the one thing you really do value."

Damien gripped her wrist, very gently this time, and pressed her hand over his heart. " _You_ are all I really value, Haley. Even the hint that you didn't really love me, that you simply went along with our wedding as part of some scheme was too much for me to bear."

Haley yanked her hand away from the warmth, the throbbing reminder of her flesh and blood husband that rested beneath it ever so briefly, and turned her back on Damien.

His arms wound around her waist and held her tightly. Damien buried his lips against her neck and murmured, "Do you think for one second that I've ever opened myself up to anyone the way I did with you last night?"

"Yes," she whispered. "It was just dirty sex, Damien. That wasn't love."

Damien's fingers dug into her flesh in tandem, like a cat kneading its claws into plush carpet. "No," he whispered, "Haley, no. Last night was the most beautiful thing I've ever known. If you leave me, I'll die."

"And if I stay, I'll die," she said coldly. "Now let me go."

"At least come with me and confront them for what they've done to you," Damien pleaded.

Haley's response began with a soft snort. "So they can lie and say I was part of their con all along? What, I suppose they groomed me to be a whore and set me up in the same city where you lived, with the hope that one day, you'd darken my brothel doorway?

"No thanks. They're the last people I've ever wanted to see. As far as I'm concerned, they're as dead as Nana is. Now, _please_. Let. Me. Go."

Damien shrugged and stepped away from her. "I'll take you to the airport myself."

"Not necessary. Just make sure I get my passport back," she pinned him with a suspicious stare.

"I'm not going to make you my prisoner, Haley," he said with real sadness in his voice. "I fucked up, and I'm sorry, but if you can't cut me even the slightest bit of slack here, then you probably should go."

Haley started to walk past him.

"An annulment won't be possible, you know," Damien said.

She paused, turned to glare at him. "Regretting your adamant decision that there would be no prenup? Well, you can relax, Damien. I want nothing from you but to be left alone."

He watched her grab the small bag she'd brought from the chateau last night and hurry toward the door of their suite.

"I'd have given you everything," he whispered.

Hours later, as he sat alone on the drive back to France where he would confront Haley's vile parents alone, the emptiness he felt at the loss of the only woman he'd ever truly loved began to set in.

Chapter 27

She couldn't escape it. News of her parent's treacherous plan to destroy Damien DeMarcus was all over the news before her flight departed from France—and was still the leading story upon her return home when she landed stateside.

Haley ducked her head and was grateful for the passport that identified her not as Haley DeMarcus or Haley Templeton. In fact, whether her soon-to-be ex-husband realized it or not, she'd all but legally adopted Delia's surname after her parents died and left her penniless—save for the trust fund that financed her education.

Nobody noticed her.

Nobody cared who she really was.

For all intents and purposes, the daughter of Geoffrey Templeton simply disappeared when he and his wife "died" so tragically nine years ago.

She popped the sunglasses onto her face and walked briskly away from customs toward the exit. Haley hoped her car hadn't been towed from where she'd left it two weeks ago at the hospital the night Nana died.

Before she could step up to the curb and hail a taxi, a small force stepped suddenly in front of her.

"Siobhan," she muttered.

"Don't you mean _mother_ , lass?" she growled.

"A mistake," she said firmly, "one I will see rectified before the end of the week. If you'll excuse me please."

"Excuse you?" Siobhan's laugh was harsh, like whiskey and acrid smoke. "I think not, girlie, not after the way you shattered my son's heart."

"Keep your voice down!" Haley hissed. "Do you want everyone to hear this?" she stepped around the seething woman and waved to one of the taxis waiting in the long queue.

Siobhan's fingers dug painfully into her arm. "I don't give a good goddamn who hears this! He loves you. In fact, he loves you so much, he's determined to give you what you want."

"Well, thank heaven for small miracles," Haley muttered.

"Half of everything he owns," Siobhan continued with growing ire. "For one night of marriage. I'll give you this much, Haley Templeton! Your apple surely didn't fall far from the tree. You're the highest priced whore I've ever seen! But it wasn't enough to take more than you're owed. Oh no, you had to hurt him so bad that he has absolutely no plans to come home to me where he belongs!"

Haley gritted her teeth, realizing the attention Siobhan's tirade was getting from people bustling to and from the airport. They all slowed, began to stare, loitered even.

She pasted a cold smile on her face, one to mask her shock, and the pain Siobhan's words elicited. "Well, madam, you may relax. I have no intention of taking anything from my marriage than what I brought into it, which was exactly nothing. Now if you'll excuse me, I have an appointment with an attorney and a realtor. Have a nice life."

"That's it?" Siobhan spluttered. "You're really walking away from him, from your life here?"

"It's for the best. Don't pretend you disagree," Haley said coolly. "Goodbye, Siobhan."

Haley yanked open the back door to a waiting taxi and slid inside—only to feel hands shoving her further across the seat when Siobhan barreled in behind her. "Don't tell me you're really that cold, Haley," she snapped. "I happen to know better. Do you think I was blind? I saw the way you looked at him, the softness about you, the raw need you had for him to hold you up and give you strength in your time of pain and loss."

Tears pricked Haley's eyes behind her dark glasses.

"Ma'am?" the taxi driver prompted from the front seat.

Haley gave her home address, or at least tried to, before Siobhan shouted over her, "DeMarcus Hotel and Casino."

"I'm going home," Haley insisted.

"Aye," Siobhan slipped into her native brogue. "You are going home, and you're not leaving until I've talked some sense into that thick skull of yours."

Haley gritted her teeth. " _My_ home, Siobhan, not _his_."

"Like it or not, lass, but Damien's home _is_ your home, at least until you've managed to grind his heart to dust with this divorce you're so intent upon gettin'."

"Why are you doing this? You've made no attempt to hide how you feel about me, how you felt about Damien bringing me into _his_ home."

"All that changed, Haley. It changed the moment he married you."

"A mistake, one which you could actually help me rectify," Haley threw up her hands in frustration.

"Oh, no I won't. He loves you. And I'm going to see to it that you realize that a man's mistakes need not be punished heartlessly."

Haley swallowed hard. "He _told_ you what happened?"

She snorted. "The boy-o didn't have to say a single word. I knew it the second I heard about your ma and da's arrests on CNN. He called all right. Yesterday mornin', all warm and gooey with his love fair drownin' me across the phone lines. He said, _Ma, I'm happy. I love her. I'm going to spend the rest of my life making her happy. And you're going to have grandbabies, lots and lots of grandbabies._ You think the man has ever spoken such words to me in his life? He hasn't."

Haley's jaw dropped, and her lips formed a soft _O_.

"So you see, when I called _him_ after hell broke loose," Siobhan continued, "his quiet heartbreak told me all I needed to know. He was afraid, girlie, as scared as you've ever been, probably more."

"He doesn't love me if he thought I could be part of what they tried to do to him," Haley whispered fiercely.

"Oh, but he does, because he was livid, thinkin' he loved you true but terrified that you didn't mean those soft words you said while you loved him after the vows were spoke. I know my boy," she said with a determined nod. "He never gave that part of himself to anybody. It was a cold man who found you, and it was the love of your sweet soul that warmed him. But you took it away without a care for what you left behind."

"You expect me to forgive him for believing the _worst_ about me?"

"Ah," she grunted. "Daft. The both of ya."

"Siobhan, I don't think Damien loved me at all. He was obsessed, sure. God knows why, maybe it was..."

"The sex? I imagine you got to be pretty good at that," she finished without disguising her disgust.

Haley's cheeks burned hotly.

"You both need to grow up. And he might love you too much to make you sit still without runnin' away, but I've got no such compunction. You're not leaving that penthouse until my son agrees to come home. And it's not a divorce he'll be comin' home to, Haley."

She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at Siobhan. "You just said he has no plans to leave his resort in Monte Carlo."

"Oh, he'll come runnin' back the second he learns you're with me," she replied on another knowing nod. "You see, my boy may not have the guts to hold you against your will, Haley, but I have no problem with it at all."

Haley's eyes narrowed. "I could yell through this plastic right now and tell the taxi driver that you're threatening me, keeping me prisoner."

"You could, but you won't."

She opened her mouth, only for a moment before it snapped shut in consternation.

"Ready to listen now?" Siobhan asked.

"You can't tell me anything I don't already know."

Another snort, "You only think you know something, Haley. I think it's high time you learned the truth about this man you married in haste."

Siobhan watched the slow flush of heat rise to Haley's face.

"You've heard that before, eh? Let me guess. The Nana. Marry in haste, repent at leisure. Wise advice, but it doesn't apply this time."

"I have little but regret left," Haley said bitterly. "How would you feel if the man you...you married suddenly believed you'd only done it to help the most vile creatures who ever breathed destroy him?"

"Did it ever occur to you, your stubborn highness, that perhaps the lad needed you to throw your arms around him and swear your love, promise that you had no idea at all, that you'd never even dream of hurting him that way?"

The fresh memories lashed at Haley's tattered heart again. _I'm sorry. I had to know. They said you were part of it. Please let me explain._

Her angry mind forced her to remember the look in his eyes before that pained plea for forgiveness...when he looked like he not only wanted to, but _could_ kill her.

Haley shook her head. "He didn't even tell me why he was angry, just demanded to know if I was part of it."

"Because he didn't want to believe it. I know you've been on a flight all night, lass, but your parents—"

"They are _not_ my parents!" she hissed.

"Fine. Geoffrey and Clarissa have an attorney. He's been screaming to the heavens that you were the mastermind behind the whole thing."

Haley's hand clutched into a fist which she clasped to her heart. " _No_!"

"Oh yes. Damien of course, has denied it rather forcefully. He's got mountains of evidence that you had no knowledge they were still alive." She paused and muttered, "Spending a fortune no doubt, scouring the world for people who witnessed your grief when they died."

"Except I didn't grieve," Haley said. "Why would I? They were strangers to me, the source of a single sperm and egg that created me, but did nothing else for me after that, except to give me over to Nana."

The taxi rolled to a stop under the porte-cochère at the hotel. Siobhan shoved a thick wad of cash through the now-opened window between the driver and his passengers. "Thanks, mate," she said as she pushed Haley toward the door.

"I'm not getting out here," Haley said.

Unfortunately, the door popped open anyway, and Ramón appeared. "Mrs. DeMarcus," he said quietly.

Haley paled.

"Your husband sends his regards, as well as myself, Todd and Duncan to make sure you're protected until this ugly matter is resolved."

The only question in Haley's mind was, _which ugly matter, our divorce or this nightmare my parents created?_

"He anticipates the resolution with the guilty parties to come swiftly," he added with a tiny measure of sympathy warming those serious eyes.

"Go, Haley," Siobhan gave another gentle push. "We need to get upstairs and finish this discussion."

She rose stiffly from the back of the taxi, lifted her chin and steeled her spine.

Siobhan just chuckled. "Glad you made it in time, lad," she said to Ramón. "Now all that's left is for you, Todd and Duncan to make sure she _stays_ here until we can talk some sense into Damien and get him home too."

"Understood, ma'am. Her belongings have already been moved into Mr. DeMarcus' suite."

"Good. Let's see how hard her heart stays when she can't escape the memory of how she really feels about him."

"Due respect," Ramón said softly, "but your reaction to this comes as a bit of a surprise, ma'am."

She chuckled as she followed Haley into the hotel, though several paces behind her wake of righteous outrage. "I'd imagine no one is more surprised by it than I am, Ramón, but a mother knows when her son's welfare is truly at stake, and would do anything to ease his pain. Even if that means risking his ire."

"I think, when he realizes what you've done, that he'd be more inclined to kiss your feet," Ramón said.

"That bad, eh?"

"He sent us and kept the men he doesn't know very well," Ramón reminded her. "I think he's too heartbroken to let her run to the wolves without anyone other than those he trusts most protecting her."

Siobhan hastened her steps when Haley jammed a finger repeatedly into the button to call the private elevator to the penthouse. "Aye," she grumbled. "And as usual, he's left the hard part to me. Give me about an hour before the troops descend," she said. "The newly minted Mrs. DeMarcus and I have a conversation to finish."

"Todd is at her residence, just in case she showed up there before you could speak to her."

"Good," Siobhan said. "See to it that he empties that house so she has nowhere left to run but back to her husband."

"Ma'am, are you suggesting that we...?"

"Remove her belongings and _store_ them, Ramón. Christ almighty, I'm not a monster."

Siobhan barely made it into the elevator before the doors slid shut with a soft whoosh. "And pray tell, how did you plan to get into the apartment without an access key?"

"I guess I'd have been riding the elevator until you finished whispering with Damien's _goon_ about my imprisonment."

"We weren't finished talking," Siobhan said. "I'd like to continue our discussion upstairs."

_Whoosh!_ The doors opened again.

Haley stomped out. "I have nothing more to say."

"Good, you can listen. I only have one thing left to say to you, Haley. You don't need to respond, but I would like you to think about this. If Damien didn't love you so much, why would he be so determined to protect you now that the truth of your parent's treachery is known?"

"I don't have to think about that," she scoffed, marching toward the stairs to the second story of the penthouse where she had every intention of secluding herself in the guest room. "It's his own reputation he hopes to save, not mine."

Siobhan smiled as she watched the slip of a girl disappear upstairs. It wouldn't be long before she learned the only room where she'd be allowed to hide would be the one she'd share with her husband—just as soon as Siobhan figured out the quickest way to get him to come back home where he belonged.

Chapter 28

Damien paced the small office where the captain of the local police department sat stonily behind his desk. He'd been waiting to grill the man all night long. Damien's fingers laced behind his neck, teeth gritted in frustration. "This is insanity, that you would take the word of these...these fraudsters over mine."

"Perhaps if you had not whisked Madame DeMarcus out of the country so quickly and we had been allowed to speak with her to ascertain for ourselves if she was indeed part of this scheme, things might be more simplified now, eh?"

Damien slammed his hands on top of Captain Michaud's desk. "You've got Fontaine. He already told you that my wife had no part in this!"

"Ah yes, but the word of the co-conspirator is not so trustworthy, eh?"

"If you don't believe him, what makes you think I'd believe you'd trust Haley either? I'm telling you, she had no idea her parents simply faked their deaths nine years ago!"

"You have known your wife so long that you can vouch for her honesty?" Michaud asked. "Because it seems that you have had...how do you say in des Etats-Unis...the whirlwind romance. Surely a man cannot know for certain after so few weeks that his wife is pure of heart."

Damien clenched his teeth. The bastard had seen the surveillance pictures of Haley, that was the real problem. He knew how she'd supported herself from her parent's meticulous spying and documentation.

"Look, things aren't what they seem," he growled. "Haley is innocent of what her parents have accused. Be rational, man. What sort of parent throws their only child under the bus like this?"

"Throw under the bus?" Michaud's forehead wrinkled in bemusement.

" _Jeté aux loups_ ," Damien translated into something Michaud was more likely to understand— _thrown to the wolves_.

"Ah, I see. Yet if you were caught as you say, _red-handed_ , would you not be compelled to give up the bigger fish to save yourself, monsieur?"

"So...you're suggesting that when Haley was fifteen years old, she hatched a scheme to fake their deaths on one of my yachts so that they could later defraud me of my casinos? I've never heard anything so preposterous. Even Fontaine told you that they came up with this plan over the past two weeks. They've been waiting for their daughter to get rich; she was their intended target. But when we met and fell in love, they couldn't resist the chance to ruin me, since they blamed me for the loss of their fortune in the first place."

" _Oui_ , yet you were only one of dozens of creditors, monsieur."

"I was the one who got the bulk of their debt repaid, at pennies on the dollar, I might add."

"Very strange coincidence that you fell in love with this woman at all," Michaud frowned.

"I didn't know who she was when I...my interest was piqued."

"But then you learned her true identity, and still pursued her."

Damien nodded. "It was already too late."

He paused, eyes piercing Captain Michaud. "Have you ever been in love, captain?"

" _Mais oui, plusieurs fois_ ," Michaud grinned.

"Well, I haven't been— _many times_. It's happened to me exactly once, this time, with my wife."

"A mature age for a first love. You destroy the image of the American boy in my mind, monsieur," Michaud chuckled.

"That's not the salient point here, Michaud. I love my wife. I knew within hours that I needed her like I'd never needed anyone I'd ever known. Was she engaged in an ugly profession? Yes, without a doubt. But despite all of that, the sweet, soft woman who lived beneath that façade called to me in ways...I don't think you could ever understand."

"Or, she is a skillful actress, a learned behavior from her parents _peut-être_?"

"No, she didn't _perhaps_ learn anything from them. Are you talking to the people who educated Haley? Her parents were absentee at best. Christ, they're more strangers to her than I was! Her parents have made this whole thing sound like some big con Haley pulled, tricking me into marrying her, when to be completely honest, I feel like I had to coerce her into agreeing to accept my proposal, not the other way around."

"Very skillful indeed," Michaud murmured.

"She. Is. Not. Part of this," Damien ground out.

"Yet she is not here to tell me this herself. If she loves you even a little, would she not want to tell the world that she is innocent, that her love for you is not some sordid scheme for money?"

"Or perhaps she's so ashamed of what her own parents have accused that she can't bear to be seen with me or anyone else for fear that like you, they'll believe this ridiculous lie," Damien said. "If I must do your work, captain, I will. I will make sure that not only the French courts, but the entire world knows that my wife is innocent of any wrongdoing, that she is nothing more than a red herring her parents try to use to absolve them of their crimes.

"And I do believe that I am still at liberty to press charges against them in Monaco for the theft of my yacht. Expect the extradition request by morning."

"Hold," Michaud said quickly. "I have not said they will not be punished for this attempt at extortion. But if your wife is part of it, than she too must face justice. Expect _our_ request for extradition as well, monsieur."

Damien stormed out of the police district in a rage. What if he told Michaud the truth—that Haley was so horrified by what happened, that she left him before learning that her parents decided to scapegoat her for the whole thing? Christ, she'd probably filed for divorce by now, though he expected that would've made the international business news if she had. After all, it wouldn't take much to uncover the fact that he hadn't insisted on a prenuptial agreement.

Of course, that would make Haley look even guiltier—walking away with only half, but still getting more than a pound of flesh.

Grateful that he'd dispatched Todd, Ramón and Duncan to protect Haley whether she liked it or not, Damien approached one of the three bodyguards he'd initially intended would protect her.

Paulo's face looked carved in stone, his eyes concealed behind the mirrored sunglasses he wore. "The jet will be back by morning, sir," he said.

"I'm not leaving Europe, Paulo. Best you inform Rick and Leonid that we're here indefinitely."

"Sir, I received a message from your mother."

"Not now," Damien sighed. He could well imagine the contents. _I told you so_ , delivered only as Siobhan could. After all, she'd already promised to withhold her support when his affair with Haley crashed and burned, hadn't she?

"But I think you'll want to—"

"I said, not now," Damien hissed. "Unless the casino got hit by a hurricane or crumbled into a sink hole, I don't want to talk to her. Is that clear?"

"Crystal clear, sir."

Damien slapped one hand on the roof of the car. The engine started before he had the door open. "Get in, Paulo. I want an update on what Rick and Leonid have learned about the Templetons while I argued with the pig-headed Captain Michaud."

"They're still working on it," Paulo began. "They've discovered a slew of aliases so far, used in Italy, France, Germany, Greece...and it appears that there could be criminal charges attached to those aliases. At the very least, these two are probably wanted for crimes all over the continent."

"Good. Let's get in contact with the American media and make sure they start digging into the information as well. Let Captain Michaud deal with extradition requests from multiple countries. Perhaps that will convince him that my wife isn't the mastermind behind their most ambitious crime."

"Sir," Paulo said gravely, "there is one other thing."

Damien slumped against the back seat and sighed. "What is it?"

"The blood on the yacht. There was no question that the amount indicated an un-survivable wound."

One eye cracked open. "I'm aware. It's what lead to the issuance of their death certificates."

"So, I'm not sure anybody's asked the question yet, but if that blood didn't belong to Geoffrey Templeton, then whose blood was it?"

Damien's posture stiffened. "They tested the blood, were certain that it matched Templeton's."

Paulo nodded gravely. "It was simple blood typing, sir. They didn't do a DNA test."

"Jesus...all this time."

"Rick is trying to find out if anyone kept a sample that we could test to definitively determine whose blood was spilled on that yacht."

"Do we know where they went after this faked death?"

"Looking like Greece, sir. The warrants for the arrest of a couple matching their description were issued just two years after the yacht escapade. Leonid said that records indicated that this couple, using Mrs. Templeton's maiden name of Stravinsky, showed up not long after the deaths of the Templetons."

"How long after?" Damien asked.

"Less than a week."

"The blood type on that yacht was AB negative," he mused. "Rare enough."

"Yeah, which was in part why they presumed that the Templetons met an untimely death at the hands of their pirates." He paused for a moment. "Leonid is making contact with people he knows, Interpol, a few other local agencies that might be helpful, to see if any wealthy people happened to disappear around the time the Templetons did, and if any of them had the same blood type."

"Why would he..." Damien's voice drifted to silence, for a brief moment at least. "They showed up in Greece with a small fortune, didn't they?"

Paulo nodded. "It had to come from somewhere, because it certainly wasn't taken from Mrs. DeMarcus' education trust."

Damien's eyes fluttered shut. How he loved hearing anyone call Haley by that name! It squeezed his heart painfully, knowing that she was working probably night and day to change it to something else.

He'd actually screamed at the maid for trying to change the sheets on their bed at the resort in Monaco. Damien couldn't bear to lose the scent of her. His memories of their beautiful wedding night were already marred by his deep-seated fear that perhaps Haley wasn't who he believed her to be.

What a fool he'd been. All he wanted to do was take her back into his arms and hold her, reassure her that he'd made a human mistake, one based on the irrational panic that swelled in his chest until he saw the pain in her eyes and realized how stupid he'd been to doubt her for even a second.

Damien missed her so much he could barely breathe. Sleep was the worst. Every time he closed his eyes, that look she'd given him at the end flashed through his memory. Her pain shredded his emotions. But the betrayal she'd felt that was so obvious in her eyes left a dry husk where his heart should've been.

"You really do need to hear what your mother called to tell you," Paulo said bravely. He thrust a cream colored slip of paper at Damien, then dropped it into his lap when it was clear that Damien had no interest in it.

"I know what it says," he rasped. "I really don't need to know she's disgusted with my mistakes, Paulo."

"Then read it. It is certainly not what you've imagined."

His hand trembled when he reached for the note, and Damien silently cursed the show of weakness. Carefully, he opened her message and read:

Your wife is with me at the penthouse. There will be no divorce, as long as I have life and breath and the stubborn will to out-wit her. Now come home where you belong.

Damien gasped softly and crushed the linen stationary in his fist. Haley was home...she was with his mother, in _his_ home.

His heart soared with a moment of hope before reality came crashing down on him as the last of the message penetrated his worried mind. He groaned. "Dammit, Ma, I don't want her forced to stay in a marriage I'm not sure she ever really wanted."

Barely able to contain his anxiety, Damien rushed into his office at the resort in Monte Carlo. He grabbed the phone and dialed, heedless of the six hour time difference. The sun was still climbing from the eastern horizon when he arrived back at the hotel. It was barely nine in the morning in Monaco, so long before dawn back home.

He waited with baited breath as the phone rang once...twice...three times... on the fourth, her sleepy voice answered softly.

"Hello?"

Damien's breath expelled in a loud rush. "Haley..."

"It's late," she mumbled flatly.

"Baby, why are you in our penthouse? I thought you were going...going to your house."

Her soft breathing assaulted his ear in an aching, pleasant way while he waited for her to reply.

Instead, there was nothing.

"Haley, I love you," he murmured.

"No you don't," she muttered.

"With all of my heart I love you. Honey, I'm so sorry I let my fear hurt you. Please think about forgiving me and giving us another chance. I'm so lost and empty without you."

"Mm," she mumbled, and he heard sheets rustling.

Damien's heart nearly stopped. There was no phone line in any of the guest rooms of his penthouse, just intercom systems—the only two upstairs, one in Siobhan's room, one in his. "Oh, baby," he moaned, "are you in our bed right now?"

"Humph," she snorted softly. "Your mother's a witch. Wouldn't let me have any other room but this one."

He thought he might hyperventilate, but proceeded carefully. Clearly Haley wasn't completely awake yet, or she'd have disconnected the call or said she hated him.

"I miss you, baby," he murmured.

"Mm-hmm."

"Oh Haley, I wish I was there with you now, holding you, kissing you, making sweet love with you."

"Damien..." her voice hitched dreamily on his name.

"Can you forgive me, baby?" His question went unanswered, and instinctively, Damien knew it was because Haley had fallen completely asleep again. On the chance that she still had the phone to her ear, he continued to murmur love words to her, and tell her in explicit detail exactly how he wanted to show her that love—just as soon as he proved himself to her once and for all.

Chapter 29

The sound of an odd alarm woke Haley that morning—only it wasn't really an alarm. The telephone was pressed to the side of her face, and the sound was the rapid busy signal that alerted to the fact that the phone had been off the hook for too long.

It was pressed between her cheek and Damien's pillow. One hand still clutched her bared left breast, and the other was nestled into her lacy underwear.

"Ugh," she muttered as she pulled it out and stared at the dried, milky substance on her fingers.

At the edges of awareness, the erotic dream that caused her to wake in such condition tickled at the periphery of awareness. Damien's deep voice murmuring naughty things that he wanted to do to her.

The hair on her arms lifted tautly and pulled her follicles into tight peaks...just like her nipples rose to attention at the thought of Damien's lips nibbling at them in that tantalizing way he'd demonstrated so thoroughly on their wedding night. A gush of heat, warm and buttery flushed her sex.

"Stop it," she whispered. "It's over, do you hear me? It is _over_."

She slid out of the high bed and padded into the bathroom, left a trail of skimpy clothing in her wake. Haley didn't care. She was alone now, even if Siobhan was holding her prisoner in this mausoleum of a penthouse. Damien wasn't coming back. Haley had made sure of that, whether it had been her real intent or not. She couldn't forget the defeated slump of his shoulders, or the sorrow in his eyes when he gave up and stepped away from a different bathroom door.

He let her walk out of his life, without much of a battle truth be told. Perhaps he too recognized that in their haste, they'd mistaken the undeniable sexual chemistry for something deeper. As a result, that error had been compounded to the nth degree, culminating in a marriage that should've just been a sex romp in bed instead...something explosive and intense that would've burned brightly for a night before it flamed out and they went their separate ways.

Now it would be an expense Haley didn't relish. Lawyers cost money that she wasn't thrilled about wasting, not if she planned to stretch her cold, hard cash for as long and far as she could.

Of course, she'd have to move too, sell one house, find another somewhere else, pay to have her belongings moved. More money down the drain.

She reached into the shower and adjusted the spray from nozzles that seemed too plentiful and stepped inside. None of the fragrances comforted her—it was all too masculine, the body wash smelling like Damien, yet not quite right. The shampoo spicy, like his hair...

Haley had been completely immersed and cocooned by his scent in the bed last night. A kernel of resentment toward Siobhan grew in her heart for locking the doors to every room but this one and her own.

To hell with that! To hell with falling asleep hugging his pillow and wishing it was warm, soft yet hard like Damien's body. She missed his flesh, the hands that soothed and excited her simultaneously. She missed how his deep breathing ruffled her hair while they slept face to face in the bed at night. She ached, deep in her heart and straight to the core of her womanhood with the loss of someone who in truth had come to mean everything to her, but had left nothing but an aching, broken vessel in the wake of his distrust.

Her tears mingled with the stinging spray from the shower. Haley slumped against the marble tiles and sobbed softly. Why would her parents be so horrible? Why had they faked their deaths and left her alone and destitute? And why would they come back at the moment of her greatest joy only to tear it down, burn it and leave nothing but smoldering ash?

"They hate me, that's why," she whispered.

"Haley, lass," a voice that she was quickly growing to despise interrupted her pitiful self-loathing. "Breakfast in twenty minutes. We've got a great deal of work to do today, so I expect you to be prompt."

Haley felt like she was on one of those amusement park rides—the gravity defying swings that ripped her from one extreme to the next. The ache of loss was on one side, and her rage boiled hotly at the other. Siobhan was the light to Haley's emotionally truncated fuse.

What the hell did this woman want from her? She'd treated Haley like scum before Damien whisked her away to France and Monaco and lured her into marriage. Now that the deed was done, it was as if Siobhan had simply flipped a switch, determined to make Haley accept her role as a wife to a man who didn't trust her and most certainly couldn't respect her.

With grudging compliance, Haley finished her shower, towel dried her hair and pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a matching hoodie. She made her way downstairs silently in her stocking-clad feet.

Siobhan was bustling around the kitchen cooking something that actually _did_ smell edible. Haley's stomach rumbled, and she realized she hadn't actually eaten anything since the wedding. How long ago had that been? Two days now...

Siobhan sensed her presence. "I could take your arrival as a good sign," she said before she turned around and saw what Haley was wearing. She sighed. "Then again, you've managed to make a silent statement dashing all hope. You'll have to change into something appropriate."

"Appropriate for what exactly?" Haley glared at her.

The older woman laughed softly. "Oh, I like your fire, girlie. I knew it couldn't just been the little mouse that trapped Damien so completely in a web of love."

"Lust," she muttered.

"No, not even close. Which isn't to say there isn't a good deal of that too, but it's more than that and we both know it. I'm glad you at least listened to him when he called in the wee mornin' hours," Siobhan said.

Haley felt her eyes narrow tightly. "He never called. What are you talking about?"

"Oh, but he did. I saw the number on the phone and decided I'd let you pick it up. Don't tell me you've forgotten, have you love?"

Her face warmed quickly. Damien had called. That's why she woke up with the phone smushed between her face and the pillow this morning. Was that why she'd had her hand in her panties too?

"If we talked, I don't remember the conversation," she said stiffly. "From my point of view, nothing has changed. And you still haven't answered my question."

"Did you ask one, dear? I don't recall."

"Why isn't this _appropriate_ attire for a prisoner? Or do you have some prison garb you'd prefer I wear?" Haley shrugged. "I've never been overly fond of orange, but whatever."

Her mother-in-law simply grinned. "Oh yes, you are the fiery one." She clicked her tongue a couple of times. "Stipulation of the divorce settlement, Haley. If you're taking half of what Damien has, you've got to learn to run the business. You can't expect to command the respect of fifteen hundred employees in this hotel and casino if you show up looking like a bored housewife who doesn't give a damn about her appearance.

"You should have something business-appropriate in Damien's closet upstairs. You can change clothes after you have breakfast. We're meeting with the financial team at nine. I'd suggest you style your hair and wear some conservative makeup as well."

"Wouldn't you rather I show my true colors and meet them looking like _the highest priced whore you've ever seen_?" Bitterness leeched into her tone.

"I'd rather not see the one thing that Damien has spent his entire life working to make successful die on the vine because you're being spiteful," Siobhan said.

"Then listen to the words I'm speaking, Siobhan. I want _nothing_ from him. Is that clear to you now? I don't want his money. I don't want his businesses. I don't want _him_."

Siobhan gazed at her thoughtfully for a moment. "Then why are you still wearing the ring he put on your finger when he made you his wife, Haley? Surely you could've thrown that in his face when you left him and hurt him a little more deeply, couldn't you?"

Instinctively, she clutched her left hand to her heart and covered it with her right hand.

"So it did mean something to you after all then?"

Stinging moisture returned to Haley's eyes, but she fought it mightily. She carefully released her grip over the ring and lowered her left hand to the counter. Her shoulders squared, and she began to tug at the ring on her hand.

"Don't you dare take that ring off," Siobhan warned. "If you're trying to prove something to me, _that_ won't convince me of anything more than your anger at _me_ , not Damien. You don't strike me as a true masochist anyway, and it's obvious from your first reaction that it would hurt you more than anyone to take off the symbol of his love for you."

Haley pushed away from the breakfast bar and stomped toward the stairs.

"No breakfast then? He'll be upset that you're not eating, Haley. Might bring him back home sooner though, so maybe...maybe you know best."

"Go to hell!" Haley spat as she ran up the stairs and slammed the door to the bedroom.

*~ *~ *~*~*

Siobhan struggled to control her laughter when Haley all but threw her tantrum. Oh, it was all becoming painfully clear to her now. Yes, the girl was livid that Damien had even a speck of doubt about her motives or her love, but she couldn't quite bring herself to break the bond that tied them together either.

She floated across the kitchen, feeling inordinately pleased with herself, and picked up the kitchen phone. It was mid-afternoon in Monaco. Damien was probably with the police, making demands, threatening legal action if they didn't prosecute the Templetons to the fullest extent of the law.

His cell phone was the surest bet to reach him.

It barely rang once.

"Haley?"

"Sorry to disappoint you, love, but it's just your dear old, loyal ma calling."

He groaned.

"Your wife..." she chuckled softly. "I'm starting to see the lioness who masqueraded as a mouse, my dear. She's quite the little spitfire."

"Mother, let her go home. Let her get on with her life. Please don't make this worse."

"Bah," Siobhan scoffed. "I'm helping more than you could possibly know."

"Don't hurt her more than she's already suffered, Ma. I'm not fucking around here."

"Language, boy-o. And I wouldn't dream of hurting the girl. I'm actually going to show her some of her new responsibilities as soon as she decides to dress the part and come with me to meet the financial team that runs the hotel and casino here."

"Mother, why would she possibly need to meet them?" his voice dipped low.

"I sort of intimated that if she plans to divorce you, you'll give her half of everything. Of course she wants nothing, rather endearing that, but I thought perhaps if she could understand how hard you've actually worked, she might have a bit of empathy."

"Empathy?" Damien echoed.

"Well, yes. That she'd understand how much you must love her if you were really willing to give up everything for her. Or did you think that Todd didn't tell me what transpired when that odious Victor Fontaine interrupted your wedding night?"

He groaned this time. "Ma..."

"I'm not making anything worse, for heaven's sake. Could you trust me just a little bit?"

"When I know you'd rather be gloating and telling me that you told me so? No," Damien said firmly.

Siobhan grinned. She could actually hear him shake his head as he spoke.

"I'm not sure why Haley is so upset that you couldn't trust her...my God, you don't even trust your own dear ma."

"Please don't make things worse than they are," he pleaded.

"She's still wearing her ring," Siobhan said. She couldn't bear to hear the pain in Damien's voice another moment. "I suggested of course that if she really intended to end things that she take it off. Her immediate reaction was to protect it, Damien. The girl is hurt, but the love is still there."

He sighed heavily.

"Did you talk to her when you called in the night?"

"She was asleep."

"Damien, the phone rang only four times. It doesn't go to voicemail until the sixth ring. Are you telling me you gave up?"

Silence.

"Did you speak to her?" gentler this time.

"Yeah."

"Did she hang up on you?"

"No," he admitted softly. "She was half asleep. I just kept talking to her. I really love her, Ma, and I hate myself for hurting her so deeply."

"Come home, Damien. Come home and show her how sorry you are."

"I...I can't. Not yet at least."

"Why not? What the devil could be more important than mending this misunderstanding?"

"Making sure that the world never looks at Haley with doubt about who she really is, or what a wonderfully kind and beautiful soul she has."

"My little boy is the knight in shining armor after all," Siobhan said affectionately. "I don't say this enough, Damien, but you make your ma so proud it hurts my heart."

"Promise me that you won't push her farther away from me," he said quietly. "I don't think I can go on without her, ma, and I hurt her so badly."

"You'll make it right, and I will do everything in my power to make her head listen to her heart, Damien. I swear it on my sainted father's soul."

Twenty minutes later when Haley reappeared in the kitchen, she was wearing a dove gray suit, soft makeup and had her hair styled in a conservative French braid with loose tendrils of hair framing her face.

Siobhan smiled—to herself at least.

Oh yes, Haley loved and respected her husband way down to her wee baby toes, whether her lips were willing to admit it or not.

Chapter 30

It was all over the news three days later. Haley had spent most of that blessedly quiet-by-comparison time meeting all the people with whom her husband worked every day...financial officers, security specialists, pit bosses, managers of restaurants and boutiques...and every single one of them rolled out the red carpet to her. They treated her like a damned princess, and all it did was make her feel worse for reacting so horribly to Damien's fear.

She saw it for what it was shortly after one of his financial officers pulled out what looked like a scrapbook and proudly showed her how Damien had followed their sage advice and turned a rundown dump of a casino into a world class operation.

"I thought..." her voice faded away, since she was suddenly stricken by the knowledge that if she really planned to divorce her husband, she didn't have the right to ask questions about what his life had been like before she was even out of pigtails and fifth grade.

"Yes, you thought what?" the man prompted gently.

"Nothing," she murmured.

Siobhan smiled slyly. "Did you think he'd won some gleaming diamond with his lucky hand of poker, Haley? You can clearly see that wasn't the case. Oh, the property turned enough profit for the loser of that particular hand of poker to seek revenge against Damien, but it was hardly the jewel that Damien's hard work and business savvy created."

From that moment on, Siobhan's blunt pronouncement colored the way Haley looked at everything in Damien's life.

Then CNN broke the news from the south of France.

The report replayed on a constant loop for so long that Haley heard it in her sleep. She wanted to slink away in the dark and disappear before the rest of the world had the chance to learn that she was just as blackened and ugly with treachery as her parents were.

"Breaking news," the report had begun. "This is Strom Bailey reporting live from the south of France, where charges of murder have been made against former multi-billionaire Geoffrey Templeton and his wife Clarissa.

"Early reports in this perplexing case revealed that the billionaire playboy and his wife, after absconding with a yacht owned by Damien DeMarcus, sole owner and proprietor of the DeMarcus Unlimited properties, in fact faked their deaths. In recent days, reports leaked that Mr. and Mrs. Templeton were possibly lured by their daughter Haley Templeton into playing out an elaborate con intended to strip Mr. DeMarcus of his wealth in some sort of revenge scheme plotted against him for collecting on debts the Templetons owed at his casino property in Monte Carlo.

"In the first of many bizarre twists in this case, we learned that Ms. Haley Templeton had in fact married Damien DeMarcus the very day that her alleged plan to defraud him of his fortune was put into action.

"Police here in the outlying area of Nice, seemed at first content with the Templeton's claim that their young daughter, who is only twenty-four years old, was the mastermind of this plot. Strange as that sounds, they claimed that the recent death of her nanny, Delia Trenton, pushed Mrs. DeMarcus over the edge and into her revenge scheme.

"But in yet another unfathomable twist, it was because of the investigative work of Damien DeMarcus' own security staff that the truth as we've learned it, has come to light."

The reporter went on to detail how Haley's parents used the DeMarcus yacht, after forging authorization to take it out to sea, to lure their first victim to a day filled with lurid sex for money before Geoffrey Templeton murdered the man and assumed his identity for just long enough to siphon several million euros away to support him and his wife while they assumed new identities in Greece.

They'd played out a similar con in other countries as well.

"When the police received confirmation that these people were wanted in multiple countries by Interpol, they realized what Damien DeMarcus told them was absolutely true. His wife, Haley Templeton DeMarcus could not have been part of this latest con, or any of the others her parents played out after essentially deserting her and leaving her penniless.

"With us now is the man responsible for exposing these two criminals for the dangerous pair they truly are. Mr. DeMarcus, is there anything you'd like to say?"

Damien's dark eyes glanced into the camera briefly before returning to the reporter. "I love my wife, and I was determined to prove her innocence to the world or die trying. She's the kindest, sweetest, gentlest woman I know, and she deserves to have the world know that while Geoffrey and Clarissa Templeton may have combined their DNA to create her, that's all they did. Who she is was thankfully, never influenced by who they are."

"What are your plans now that you've exposed the truth, sir?"

Damien smiled, but it didn't erase the sadness or fatigue from his eyes. "I'd love nothing more than to give my wife the honeymoon of her dreams."

"Police have accused you of interfering with their investigation. They said you actually hid your wife, whisked her out of France before she could be questioned. What do you say to that charge?"

"The truth speaks for itself," Damien said. "They could've listened to me when I said Haley was incapable of that kind of treachery, but they didn't. I wanted her safe. My God, she's been through enough. The last thing she needed was to be swept away in this mess."

"Will your reunion take place here in France, or back home in the States?"

Damien just shook his head. "For obvious reasons, I'm not going to answer that question."

With that, he'd stepped away, and for the past twenty-four hours, Haley waited for the phone to ring, waited for Damien to step off the elevator into his penthouse.

It hadn't happened.

She was too proud—or maybe too ashamed—to ask Siobhan if she'd heard from him. That same pride and shame prevented her from picking up the telephone and calling Damien herself.

Two hours ago, she'd finally swallowed that pride and gone to find Siobhan. It was for naught. Haley was completely alone in the large penthouse.

She wandered back to Damien's bedroom and crawled to the center of the large, empty bed. Thoughts of everything Damien had done to prove her innocence warmed her heart, and warred with the thoughts that still wondered if he'd done it because he loved her or because he still didn't trust her enough to believe her when she said she had no part in her parent's vile plot.

Haley sighed and leaned back against the headboard. She grabbed Damien's pillow and held it tightly to her chest as she began to weep softly. "I'm so sorry, Damien," she whispered. "You didn't deserve any of this, and whether I was involved or not, it's still all my fault."

"Explain that to me," he said quietly from where he stood in the doorway. "Because no matter which way I've looked at this thing, I can't imagine how any of the blame rests on your shoulders, Haley."

The only light left burning in the entire penthouse was on the nightstand beside the bed. It barely gave off enough glow to outline his broad shoulders.

Haley hiccupped softly and hugged the pillow tighter to her chest.

"No answer?" his voice drew closer until she could finally make out his features. If such a thing were possible, Damien looked even more exhausted now than he had during his CNN interview. Dark half-moons bled below his eyes, slightly puffy and accented by the sharpened blades of his cheekbones. He looked thinner, vulnerable somehow, something Haley never imagined she'd see.

"Well?"

"If..." her voice cracked.

"If...if what?"

"If you'd never met me—"

"They'd have come after me eventually anyway, Haley. I was still their largest creditor." Damien reached for her slowly. One finger hooked a strand of her hair to tuck it behind her ear. "If we hadn't met, you'd have lost Delia and gone through all of that alone. You'd have been in your empty life, selling your body to people who couldn't see what a precious treasure you are. And when Geoffrey and Clarissa had inevitably come after me, you'd have suffered a devastating blow without anyone who gave a damn if the world knew you were completely innocent or not. You'd have been the sad footnote, the punctuation in a story of greed and violence."

Her tears flowed free, a drizzle of moisture followed from her nose.

Damien plucked two tissues from the box on the nightstand and held them to her face. "Blow," he said softly.

Haley's shoulders shook, and she gasped to catch her breath around the broken sobs choking her.

"Baby," he whispered as he wiped her nose gently. "Please don't cry anymore."

"I'm so sorry," the apology tore from her throat on a rasping note.

"And you have no reason to feel that way," Damien said. "You're not the one who needs to beg forgiveness. I am."

Her eyes rose, wide and filled with disbelief. "No, Damien. You had every right to question—"

"I was livid," he dropped down on the bed beside her. "I never really believed you would...that you even could, Haley, but I was so angry, and part of me wondered at the timing. I loved you so much, and I thought, _fuck the money. This is their revenge. They dangled this beautiful woman in front of me, and like a fool, I let her in. I let her in and they're laughing at me for it_."

"Damien, no," she whispered.

"That was my fear, that I loved you and you were the pawn sent in to deliver the deathblow from which I could never recover. This," he waved his hand to encompass all he owned, "this can be replaced. What I feel for you could never be duplicated, Haley. I can't explain it. I don't even understand how it happened, but you opened that door wearing nothing under that see-through gauze, and I wanted you to want me as much as I wanted you. I _needed_ you to feel the same way. If I could've gotten under your skin that night and made you feel addicted like I felt..."

"Lust," she echoed her claim to Siobhan a few days ago.

"Oh yeah," he agreed. "I lusted like I've never lusted before in my life. And I was so sure I could win you over...

"Then you opened the door at your house, and I was shocked."

"Really?"

Damien nodded, his gaze suddenly warm and lambent. "I saw you differently, Haley. You weren't the sex kitten anymore. You were soft, and warm, and so very real. That honeyed taste I'd carried on my tongue since our first night together, it was sweeter, because I glimpsed a woman who was someone a man doesn't lust after. She's the kind of woman he protects and cherishes and loves slowly... thoroughly."

Haley heard the air hitch in her throat.

"I was completely gone, so smitten I couldn't stop thinking about you, wanting to peel back every layer there was so I could know the real woman, the one who had photographs of cats...a little shrine to one of them, I suspect. I wanted to know why you liked Chantilly lace enough to drape it all over your living room. I wanted the vixen whose allure lay in her mystery, not showing off her delectable body for a price. That woman wasn't a stranger to me. I understood Ms. Khram completely.

"Haley Templeton? She was my siren, the muse I didn't even know was missing from my pathetic life."

"Nana," Haley said softly.

"When you lost her—"

"No," she interrupted. "Nana loved Chantilly lace. She was constantly buying it for me."

A slow smile parted his lips. "So you put it everywhere because she was your mother, and you loved her."

Damien picked at the fingers of her left hand, eventually sliding his thumb along her ring finger until it grazed her wedding rings. "And the cats?"

"One cat. Many different ages, but yeah, it was a shrine to her."

Damien smiled again. "What was her name?"

"Tabby, short for Tabitha."

His fingers closed over her left hand. "Can you forgive me for being afraid, Haley?"

"Damien," she blew out a slow, shaky breath.

"Baby, I haven't slept or eaten or been able to function normally since you walked out. Please...I'll give you time. Just...I don't want to lose you."

Haley pushed the pillow away from her chest with her right hand and crawled into Damien's lap. She wrapped her arms around his neck, tentative at first, but emboldened by the happy surprise that lit his eyes.

"Damien...I love you, without reservation. I wasn't any more courageous than you even before Victor Fontaine showed up in our bedroom. I was terrified to even admit to myself that you were what was missing from my life."

More tears streaked down her cheeks in rapid succession. Damien thumbed them away without breaking contact with her sincere gaze.

"You talked about fear. Siobhan said you panicked. And I didn't want to believe it. I understood those emotions, the fear, the terror that you'd been duped. I understood because part of me couldn't believe that what was happening between us was real."

"What do you believe now?" he whispered.

Her smile spread across her face slowly. "I believe that a silly wager changed my life, that even without ever collecting a dime, I got more riches than I could ever dream of having. I got you, and your love. And I don't want a divorce. I don't want a marriage where you live across the ocean and I lay here at night crying myself to sleep because I can smell you, but can't feel you here with me. I—"

Damien silenced her with a deep kiss, so tender it made her heart ache. His tongue slid easily into her mouth and plumbed so softly that within seconds, she was clinging to him. Her gentle hands roved restlessly over Damien's back, up to the nape of his neck. Her fingers plowed through his hair, where her nails raked over his scalp.

Haley whimpered when Damien pulled away just a fraction of an inch. "Tell me if you forgive me, baby."

"Oh yes," she murmured. "I love you, Damien."

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Anything," she gasped when his fingers slid up her ribs. His thumbs extended and brushed the underside of her breasts.

"Do you still want to make babies with me?"

Haley shivered. "Oh God, more than you could ever know."

Damien nibbled at her lips. "I thought we should wait a few years, but..."

"Yeah?" her eyes were dark as night, glazed with desire as she wiggled closer to him.

"Stop taking your pills," Damien murmured against her lips. "Go off them now. I can't wait any more, baby."

Haley melted against him with only one thread of hesitation left to burn away. He sensed it, so in tune with his young wife's emotions.

"I trust you, Haley. If proving your innocence to the world wasn't enough to convince you, I don't know how else to do it."

Her eyes squeezed shut tightly as her hot breath fluttered over his neck in short, rapid bursts. "Yes, I realize that. But Damien, can you ever forgive me?"

"Forgive you?" he echoed. "For what?" Damien's thumb slipped between her open thighs and stroked softly over her plush, silk-clad sex.

Fat tears flowed again. "For running away again. For having a worse temper than you do."

Damien chuckled. "Worse, huh?"

She nodded soberly. "Much, much worse."

Damien kissed her slowly for long, aching minutes before ending in nibbles. "Does this mean you're not leaving me?"

"It does," she said on a sigh of contentment. "But Damien, we're going to have to do something about your mother."

He pulled away, one eyebrow arched high. "Oh?"

She nodded. "I was thinking she's earned a nice long vacation. Maybe a single's cruise...and I can spend the entire time she's gone hoping she meets someone who turns _her_ world upside down for a change."

"Are you really that upset with her for making sure the two of us had time to think about what we might've otherwise thrown away?" Damien asked.

"Upset with her?" Haley asked feigning innocence, because the mischief dancing in her eyes revealed her true intent. "Honey, I just want your mother to find the happiness we have."

"Oh, that'll never happen," Damien grinned. "She's just too content meddling in everyone else's lives, sweetheart."

Haley laughed softly. "Wanna make another wager?"
