Sweet Persuasion (Sweet #2)(86)



Damon stroked her hair, offering her comfort with his touch. He was calm and methodical, no urgency to his actions. No question. Just acceptance. Did he have acceptance enough for both of them?

“I’m sorry,” he said huskily. “I’m so sorry, Serena. Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you let me help you? Why leave?”

For a long moment she lay there, unable to form a response around the knot in her throat. She knew her thoughts weren’t logical. Maybe she’d always known she was chasing a fantasy.

Damon waited. He sat there quietly, just holding her as she collected her courage.

“I thought that if I could give her her dream, it would be enough to save her. That if I could make magic for her, I could save her.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Damon said, his voice cracking as emotion throbbed in his throat.

“When she died, I realized that nothing I’d done made a difference. None of it. She got a few minutes to be a princess, and her parents have a lifetime to live without their daughter.

“My clients still have to go back to their normal lives. They enjoy a brief respite and nothing more. I realize now how cruel it is. To give someone a taste of paradise only to yank it away? I can’t think of anything worse.

“I never knew, would have never known if I hadn’t tried to fulfill my own fantasy. It was then that I realized that there are worse things than never living your dream or never indulging in a fantasy. It’s far worse to get a taste and know that it isn’t real, will never be real, and then go back to your regular life knowing what it’s like to have perfection and that you’ll never have it again.

“Some things . . . some things are better left in the realm of fantasy,” she said faintly.

“I think I understand what you’re saying,” he said.

She pulled slightly away so she could look into his eyes. “Do you? Then you know why I can’t . . . why we can’t . . .”

He shook his head. “I said I understood what you were saying, not that I agreed.”

He lifted a hand to her face and trailed his fingers over her temple and to her cheekbone. They shook as he moved them to her lips.

“I have a lot I want to say to you, and I want you to listen to every word.”

She nodded slowly.

“Good. Now, I understand that you’re afraid. I understand that the volatility of our attraction, of our relationship, frightened you. It scared the shit out of me as well.”

Her eyes widened.

“Don’t look so surprised, Serena mine. You knocked me for a friggin’ loop.”

He leaned in and brushed a light kiss across her lips before withdrawing again. “Somewhere along the way, you decided that the Serena who gave me the gift of herself couldn’t possibly be real. That not only was she not real, but she could never be what I wanted and needed. And so, you decided that in order to do what was best for me, you were going to leave me. Never mind the fact that you never once consulted me in the matter. Pretty messed up, wouldn’t you say?”

“It’s not that simple,” she argued, remembering that she’d said the exact same thing to Julie and Faith not long ago. She glanced away, no longer able to meet the burning intensity of his eyes.

“Serena, look at me,” he said gently.

He didn’t prod her, didn’t tug at her chin as he had so many times before. But she turned back anyway, unable to resist his softly spoken request.

“It’s as simple or as complicated as we make it. Me? I’m a simple kind of guy. I love you, and I hope to hell you love me or that maybe you can love me, given a little time and persuasion on my part.

“You, on the other hand, are as complicated as they come. You twist yourself in knots until you don’t know which end is up. You try to convince yourself that you can’t be what I want or need, but you’ve never asked me what I want. Or what I need. Because if you had? I would have said only one thing. You.”

She opened her mouth, but nothing would come out. He wiped his thumb over her lip as if removing the obstruction.

“Don’t you have anything to say to me right now? Like that you’re sorry for running out on me, or that you’re sorry for worrying the absolute hell out of me, or that I had to make your friends kidnap you so I could see you again?”

He took a deep breath as though he was gathering his own brand of courage.

“Or that you love me just a little bit?”

She stared at him for a long moment, trying to match his courage, trying to form the words and work them past the knot in her throat.

“I do love you,” she finally whispered.

The look of absolute joy, the crushing relief that flooded his eyes, took her breath away. His hands shook so badly against her face that he had to take them away to prevent them from bumping her skin.

She put her hands to his face this time, needing the contact and needing him to understand that loving wasn’t the be all, end all in the equation.

“I think I love you,” she amended. “I want to love you. I just want to be sure of who it is I love, and I want you to be sure of who it is you love.”

“You’re going to need a translator for that, Serena mine, because you lost me at the I think I love you part.”

“You were very honest about what you want in a relationship, Damon. I was honest about what I wanted out of my fantasy. You said you’d never settle for less. And I’m frightened of the person I became during that fantasy.”

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