Page 22 of Princess's Pregnancy Secret

Damon didn’t take a seat, didn’t offer one to his father. ‘Why are you here?’

‘I wanted to congratulate you in person.’

The bare nerve of the man was galling.

‘You’re very quick off the mark. I haven’t been married twenty-four hours yet.’

His father’s smile stayed crocodile wide. ‘I never thought you had it in you.’

‘Had what in me?’

‘To marry so...happily.’

‘Happily?’ Damon queried. ‘You mean like you and Mother?’

‘Your mother and I have a very successful arrangement.’

Yeah. An arrangement that was bloodless and only about making the most of their assets. ‘And that’s what you think this is?’

‘Are you saying you’re in love with her?’ His father laughed. ‘I’m sure you love the power and opportunity that come with her beautiful body.’

Revulsion triggered rage but Damon breathed deeply, settling his pulse. He wasn’t going to bite. His father wasn’t worth it. But he couldn’t help declaring the obvious. ‘I’m not like you.’

His father frowned. ‘Meaning?’

‘You have at least one other child that you have done nothing for. You abuse people, then abandon them.’

His father’s expression narrowed.

‘How many others are there?’ Damon asked bluntly.

‘That was one mistake.’

Mistake?

‘I saw you with her,’ Damon said softly, knowing he’d regret the revelation but unable to resist asking.

‘Who?’

‘Kassie’s mother.’ Damon had followed him once, here in Palisades—the opulent island of personal betrayal had taken Damon on a swift bleak journey to adulthood and understanding. He’d seen his father kiss that woman with such passion. Damon had actually thought his father was truly in love. That he was truly capable of it and it was just that he didn’t feel it for either Damon or his mother. ‘Why didn’t you leave us and stay with her?’ He’d never understood it.

An appalled expression carved deeper lines in his father’s face. ‘I would never leave your mother.’

‘Not because you love her,’ Damon said. ‘But because her connections were too important to your career. It was your arrangement.’

Because he was that calculating. That ruthlessly ambitious. That incapable of real love.

‘Your mother and I make a good team. We understand each other.’

By turning blind eyes to infidelities and focusing on their careers. They’d used his funds and her family name. Connections and money made for progress in political circles. They’d had Damon only to cement the image of the ‘perfect career couple’. Not because he’d actually been wanted, as his mother had told him every time he’d disappointed her. And that had been often.

‘So you abandoned your lover and your daughter and refused to help when they were struggling because of the risk to your stupid career and supposedly perfect marriage.’ Damon was disgusted.

‘I offered her money but she was too proud to accept it. That was her choice.’

‘You knew she suffered and you didn’t go back.’

‘What more could I have done, Damon?’ his father asked. ‘Was it my fault she chose to remain in that squalid little cottage?’

Damon understood it now—he’d realised the horrific truth when he’d learned how that woman had suffered for so long, so alone. His father had never loved Kassie’s mother. He’d wanted her, used her and walked away when he’d had enough. When she’d refused his money his conscience was cleared and he’d considered himself absolved.

No guilt. No shame. No heart.

‘It’ll look strange if you don’t invite us both here soon,’ his father said, his callousness towards Kassie and her mother apparently forgotten already. ‘Your mother would like to stay as a guest.’

‘I’m never inviting either of you here,’ Damon said shortly. ‘How can you act as if we’re close when we haven’t seen each other in years?’ Bitterness burned up his throat. He wanted the taint of the man nowhere near Eleni.

‘We’ve all been busy.’

His father hadn’t realised he’d been avoiding him? ‘No. We have no relationship. You’re not using this. You’re not using me.’

‘You can’t get away from your blood, Damon.’ John Gale laughed. ‘You’re my son. Just because we’re more alike than you want to admit, doesn’t mean it isn’t so. You can’t get away from who you are.’

He’d never wanted to be like either of his parents. They were why he’d never wanted a serious relationship, let alone to marry. Why he’d wanted to build his company—his success—on his own terms. In isolation and not dependent on manipulated relationships.

‘I might not be able to deny my blood, but I can deny you access to my wife and to our home,’ Damon said coldly. ‘You’re not welcome here. You’ll never be welcome here. I suggest you leave right now, before I have the soldiers throw you out.’

‘Your wife’s soldiers.’

‘Yes.’ Damon refused to let his father get a rise out of him. ‘Don’t come back. Don’t contact me again. And don’t dare try to contact Eleni directly.’

‘Or?’

‘Or I’ll let the world know just what you are.’ He’d strike where his father cared the most—his reputation, his image.

John’s eyes narrowed.

‘It will be much better for you to return to New York and whatever project it is you’re about to launch,’ Damon said lazily. ‘And no more gleeful interviews mentioning Eleni and me. You’re showing your lack of class.’

That blow landed and Damon watched as his father’s complexion turned ruddy. After that, John didn’t stick around and Damon slowly wound his way back up to Eleni’s apartment. He’d done the right thing getting him out of the palace as quickly as possible. But his father’s slimy insincerity stuck.

He didn’t want it getting to Eleni. As soon as the baby was born he’d begin the separation process because she’d be so much better off without him. But he’d still be the Princess’s ex-husband, the father of her child. Another prince or princess.

Too late he realised her life was now intrinsically tied to his. His gut tightened as he mulled the possible configurations of their futures and the fact that she would always be part of his world. In the cold light of day he realised he’d not ‘won’ anything at all.

Nor had she.

But he’d meant what he’d told her. Relationships never lasted. Not for anyone. And certainly not him. Never him. He refused.

He paused for a moment outside her apartment door to draw in a breath. Then he let himself in. It was too much to hope she was still in bed. She was dressed in a simple tee shirt and skirt and his wayward body tightened at the sight of her lithe legs.

‘Where have you been?’ she asked, sending him a sleepy smile, but her sea-green eyes were too searching for him to cope with.

‘I have a company to run,’ Damon said sharply, picking up his tablet and staring at it. Hard. ‘I’ve neglected it long enough while tracking you down.’

Silence filled the room, tightening the invisible string connecting his eyes to her body and in the end he could no longer resist the tug.

A limpid look was trained on him. ‘Perhaps you should have slept a little longer.’

He couldn’t help but smile at that most princess-polite sass.

She wandered over to the window, affording him an even better view of her legs and the curve of her body. She had no idea of her sensuality.

‘So what have you been working on that’s caused your mood to...deteriorate?’

‘It’s not important.’

‘It wouldn’t have anything to do with your father, would it?’

He froze. ‘Your palace spies have reported in already?’

‘No spies. I saw a replay of the interview with him at the airport.’ She turned to face him. ‘Is he here?’

‘He’s already left.’

; ‘You didn’t want me to meet him?’

‘No.’ He didn’t want to explain why. But he saw the wounded flash in her eyes. ‘He’s not a nice man.’

Her lips twisted. ‘You don’t need to protect me.’

‘Yes, I do.’ He huffed out a breath and glared at his tablet again, gripping it as if it were his life-support system.

His marriage to Eleni could be nothing like his parents’ one. For one thing, it wasn’t about to last. It wasn’t about his career and never would be. It was about protecting his child. It was about protecting Eleni.

‘Are you sure it’s me you’re protecting?’ she asked quietly.

He glanced across at her. ‘Meaning?’

‘Your father...and you.’ She looked uncomfortable. ‘You’re not close...’

‘No.’ Damon couldn’t help but smile faintly. Definitely not close. ‘I haven’t had contact with him in almost five years.’