Lily Grayson placed a hand on her still-slender waist and
searched the familiar ballroom. Shimmering silver and gold
streamers hung from the expansive twenty-foot ceiling; a
string quartet provided presupper music, which blended with
the chatter of two hundred black-tie guests. A high-society
birthday party was in full swing, but enjoying the
festivities could play no part in Lily's plan.
Lips dry and her breathing shallow, her gaze flew from face
to face, looking for the man she needed to speak with
urgently. The man she'd once loved, but could never trust
with her heart… or their unborn baby's emotional
well-being.
Damon Blakely.
The multimillionaire corporate raider whom men feared and
women coveted.
A waiter paused, tray covered with flutes of crystalline
champagne and fine-stemmed glasses of wine, but she shook
her head and continued her circuit of Travis Blakely's
sixtieth birthday party. In the six months she'd been with
Damon, she'd visited his uncle's Melbourne home several
times, but not once since their breakup almost three months
ago. Since Damon had let her down when she'd needed him most.
The thought led back to her gran, home alone tonight,
recovering from another bout of pneumonia, part of the ill
health that had incapacitated her recently. If only Gran
would accept more help, but she refused to move in with Lily
or let Lily live with her. Gran valued her independence and
Lily couldn't help but feel powerless. But she wouldn't be
sidetracked with thoughts of her beloved grandmother now.
She'd see Gran taken care of, one way or another.
Tonight she needed to find Damon.
Lily continued searching from guest to guest as she wove
through the crowd. The women in evening gowns of satins and
sequins reminded her of peacocks parading for attention, and
the sounds of clinking glasses and a hundred indistinct
conversations culminated in an assault on her ears. She'd
rather be anywhere than here—this was not her world.
But it was his world and she needed to find him.
Searching still, she swung around. Her heartbeat stalled
before exploding in her chest as her gaze collided with his.
Dead ahead, suave in a tux, red wine in one hand, the other
free to shake the hands of acquaintances who stepped into
his path, Damon smiled and passed comments with those who
waylaid him. The charming lord of all he surveyed. But his
distinctive eyes, with the black ring circling the ice-blue
iris, were focused on her.
An exquisite shiver passed down her spine at the intensity
of his gaze and her body reacted with predictable awareness.
Lily closed her eyes to tamp down the response but her lids
immediately fluttered open. He stirred within her an
overwhelming hunger. Even now, she couldn't keep her eyes
from devouring him.
Damon towered over the other guests, and she realized that
instead of searching for him, she should have stood on the
entrance stairs to spot his characteristic waves of
midnight-dark hair. Or closed her eyes and let her body find
his with the magnetic link that still drew her to him.
He finished talking to a rotund man, who laughed heartily at
Damon's parting comment, then took several strides toward
her before being tapped on the shoulder by an elderly
statesman Lily recognized from the newspapers.
She eased out a breath—it seemed she wouldn't need to
approach him. He was coming to her. As her blood heated and
skin tightened at the thought, she took an involuntary step
back. Amazing. Even after all his neglect and the utter
anguish he'd caused, the force of her attraction was still
overpowering.
Leaning against a cool pillar, she waited, taking in the
scene of Melbourne's elite at play. At odds with those
around her, she'd never wanted a life of extravagance.
Growing up with Gran, who'd struggled to keep a roof over
their heads after her son—Lily's father—had
gambled the family home away, she'd wished only for
security. Financial stability, no more.
The cloying scent of too many expensive perfumes and
colognes mingling in the enclosed space made her head spin,
and she looked longingly toward the exit. She needed to get
this over with. The stress of trying to anticipate Damon's
reaction to her news was pushing her to breaking point. She
was still coming to grips with it herself.
Finished with the statesman, Damon took the last few strides
to reach her, his broad shoulders and long legs showcased by
the tuxedo.
He didn't say a word, just seemed to drink her in, his
sensuous mouth parted slightly before he downed the rest of
his wine and discarded the glass on the tray of a passing
waiter. Then he clasped her elbow and slowly reached down to
press a kiss to her cheek, a little too close to the corner
of her mouth for propriety, but then Damon had never worried
about convention when it clashed with his interests.
"Hello, Lily." He seemed to roll her name around his
mouth before delivering it in his deep voice, something that
had always sent her pulse erratic. "You look gorgeous."
His compliment hummed through her blood, even as she told
herself not to listen. She'd learned long ago that people
said what they wanted you to hear. A lesson she'd relearned
recently thanks to the man still holding her arm.
She swallowed and found her voice. "Hello, Damon. You
look good, too. You always did in a tuxedo," she conceded.
His mouth curved and pale blue eyes gleamed. "I'd rather
hoped you preferred me out of my tuxedo."
An unbidden image of them entwined on his bed rose in her
mind. The memory of his tanned, muscled body contrasted
against crisp fine cotton sheets made her inwardly groan.
When an ache deep and low in her stomach began to throb,
Lily gritted her teeth and withdrew her elbow in a move
others in the room wouldn't notice, but which sent a clear
message to Damon—touching was a right he no longer
possessed.
A raised eyebrow told her he'd taken her meaning and wasn't
offended. He sank his hands into his front trouser pockets.
Confident and sexy to the core.
She needed to tell him now, before his lethal sexuality
scrambled her brain further. Needed to get him somewhere
private so she could tell him about their baby as well as
her plans to move on with her life.
He leaned close and whispered in her ear, his warm breath
tickling sensuously. "There's something I'd like to talk
to you about in private."
Lily froze. Had he guessed? No, he couldn't have— she
wasn't showing yet and at fourteen weeks, her morning
sickness had passed. There were no clues and no one else
knew, she'd made certain of it. Her secret was safe, until
she told Damon in her own words.
And now he wanted to speak to her in private—it seemed
fate had cut her a break for once. She would grab the
opportunity. "When?"
He gave a self-satisfied grin. "How does now suit?"
Her legs felt weak but she maintained the cool facade.
"Where?"
For reply he took her hand and led her away. As firecrackers
shot through her veins, Lily shook her head.
Obviously she needed to make clearer her position on the
no-touching rule. However, for expediency's sake, this one
last time she would allow the contact.
Though perhaps she shouldn't take his acts of entitlement
and their effects on her so personally; all women seemed to
succumb to Damon Blakely's innate sensuality when they were
in his orbit. Far more important to her were other
qualities—traits Damon seemed incapable of
understanding or displaying. Emotional reliability.
Prioritizing others' needs before his own. Worse, she knew
that would never change.
He drew her down a quiet hallway toward the rear of the
stark mansion where he'd grown up, until she recognized the
heavy double sliding doors of Travis Blakely's private gallery.
Damon flicked on the lights and her art-gallery curator's
eye was drawn to the priceless artwork hanging on the walls
and enclosed in glass on podiums.
She drifted forward and ran a finger along the edge of one
glass cabinet, not turning to him, even when he spoke.
"We haven't been alone in, how long?" A wall of heat
moved behind her and for one crazy moment she let herself
simply absorb his warmth in hope of soothing her chilled heart.
"Almost three months." She turned, bringing her
within a foot of him. Her heart skipped a beat to find him
so close.
"How have you been? Your gran?" He casually reached
to toy with a strand of her long silver-blond hair, sending
a frisson of heat across her skin.
"I've been fine," she whispered, wishing her voice
had been stronger but unable to help his effect on her.
"Gran's been under the weather, but she's coming out of
it now."
At least physically. Her medical bills had mounted up and,
with no assets or income besides the old age pension, Lily
was worried for the woman who'd raised her since the age of
twelve. Gran had already lost so much, her son, her health,
her house, her nest egg…
Damon released the lock of hair and grazed his knuckles down
the side of her cheek in a touch as light as butterfly
wings. "That must have been hard for you."
Lily nodded, torn between her body's reaction to Damon's
touch and the thoughts his words evoked. She owed Gran
everything, loved her beyond measure.
"I suppose she still won't let you help." His voice
was quiet, beguiling.
On the verge of slipping under his sensual thrall, she
caught herself. She had to wrest back power over her own body.
She stepped away and moved to the other side of the glass
cage, putting the artwork between them as a token symbol of
protection. Only then did she trust herself to reply.
"She says that after raising me to stand on my own two
feet, the last thing she wants is for me to be financially
behind the eight ball because of her."
Damon didn't appear to feel thwarted by her physical
retreat, more like she'd thrown down the gauntlet and he'd
accepted. He prowled the trail she'd followed, yet bypassed
her position and leaned against a nearby column, ankles
crossed, hands resting on narrow hips. The pose of a
predator biding his time. "Have you come up with any
options?"
She took a breath, held it, then admitted, "Not yet. But
I will." Finding a way to look after Gran was a priority.
He pushed off the column, rolling his shoulders as he hunted
the shadows of the room, before turning and ending squarely
in front of her.
His eyes seemed to consume her whole. "You seem sure
about that." His arched eyebrow told her that he didn't
share her confidence.
Truth be told, she had no idea how she'd make sure
Gran was taken care of, but she wouldn't consider failure.
"Don't worry about me, Damon, I'll find a way." The
heat radiating from him, the raw sexual hunger in his gaze,
made it difficult to think, to say anything, but she needed
to change the subject. "It seems I should be more
worried about you. I heard Travis disinherited you after we
broke up."
"Ah, yes. The millions of tainted dollars, this loving
family home." He swept an arm around, eyes filled with
derision. "Everything."
"Including the one thing you've always coveted."
Had wanted more than he'd wanted her. His late
father's company, BlakeCorp.
Looking down at her hands, she blinked away any remnants of
emotion that thought still evoked. She was over it. Over him.
Movement drew her attention back to his face. He was closer
again. The barely visible tension in his features dissolved,
replaced by his usual arrogant self-assurance.
Hands clasped behind his back, Damon leaned in to whisper in
her ear. "I have an offer for you. To help your gran."
Undiluted shock surged through her entire body. Her neck
snapped back and she sought his eyes. It was the last thing
she'd expected. "What offer?"
"I'll buy her a house. One with all modern safety
features for someone her age, but where she still has her
independence. I'll pay off all her outstanding medical
expenses. And I'll employ a private nurse to help until
she's back on her feet. Longer, if she'll allow it." He
smiled, assured his offer was too good to refuse. "You
know she'll accept. She knows I can afford it and she always
had a soft spot for me."
"Why would you do that?"
He shrugged and took her hand, drawing her still closer,
pressing his advantage. "Travis invited me here tonight
to make me an offer. I want to extend the offer to include
you. And your Gran."
Lily narrowed her eyes. "I thought you'd both sworn
never to lay eyes on the other again." In fact, she'd
been astonished when Travis's secretary had rung to follow
up on Lily's RSVP tonight, and had revealed that Damon was
expected. But she'd immediately seen her chance to speak
with him—Damon had been out of the country and, unsure
of when he'd jet off again, she'd grabbed the first
opportunity to see him she could.
But she had to stay on guard. Game playing came as naturally
to the Blakelys as making money. "Why would Travis come
to you now and make an offer?"
"Been keeping up on the family goings-on, Lily?" His
thumb ran up and down on the wrist he held. "Perhaps you
still have my best interests at heart."
Lily blew out a dismissive breath and withdrew her hand. Her
stomach churned. How much more of this game could she take?
"Damon, for pity's sake, cut the theatrics and answer my
question."
He smiled—the slow smile of a panther assured of
catching its prey. Though, just who he thought his prey was
this time—her or Travis—she wasn't certain.
"Travis received some tragic news from his doctor
today." Damon didn't even try to pretend that any news
that was tragic for Travis would adversely affect him. There
had been no love lost between the two long before she'd met
either of them.
She knew Travis had raised Damon with more than an iron
rod—he'd also used emotional abuse and deliberate
neglect as tools to rear his older brother's son. Damon had
never wanted to talk much about it, but it'd been easy
enough to put two and two together—and the answer had
broken her heart. Perhaps she'd given Damon one chance too
many when they'd been together, knowing how he'd never
really escaped the torment of his childhood. But she
couldn't go on giving him chances now. Things had changed.
One thing she knew, Damon would never forgive Travis. What
surprised her was that they'd lasted so long without either
one destroying the line of inheritance.
She tried to gauge Damon's feelings from his expression but
failed. "If he's talking to you again, the news is
obviously something that's made him confront his mortality."