Jewel of Atlantis - By Gena Showalter Page 0,62

will leave you. No matter what happens, I'm going home. Never let yourself think otherwise."

There was pure honesty in his voice, a bone-deep conviction. He didn't harbor a single doubt about his words; he believed them with his whole heart. If she allowed him, he would kiss her, perhaps make love with her tonight, but when his mission ended, so did their association.

They would never see each other again. Never speak with each other. That knowledge cut deeper than any knife.

She'd known he would deny her, of course. The moment she'd spoken, she had known his reply, but hope was a strange, foolish thing, and she'd been unable to hold the words back.

Only two options presented themselves. Embrace the time they had together or keep him at a distance. Either way, she would end up with a broken heart. One would leave her with beautiful memories that could destroy her. The other would bring regret, but she would survive.

"I've been honest with you from the beginning," he said, softening his tone to ease the sting of his previous words.

"I told you before that you don't have to explain your reasons to me." She tried to mask her hurt, but didn't quite succeed. "I'm very aware of what you're like."

He studied her face. Whatever he saw in her expression angered him because he scowled, grabbed her hand, and hauled her back to the table. His scowl remained as he signaled for two more drinks. He didn't speak until they arrived and the server disappeared.

News of Gray's presence must have spread, because the bar fairly burst with centaurs and sirens, eating away at the space. Every few seconds, someone fingered his hair or caressed his shoulder. For the most part, he ignored them.

"What do you mean, you know what I'm like?" He propped his elbows on the table and leaned forward while she sipped at the ice-cold sweetness.

She met his gaze dead on, eyes narrowed, blood surging with her own sense of growing fury. "You get rid of your women very quickly."

"That's a lie, honey. I don't do one-night stands."

"Not in your mind, no. You keep women around for a while, but you never give more of yourself than the barest glimmer. The moment they start to get close to you, you leave them."

Gray's nostrils flared. His last girlfriend had lasted six months. Six months of monogamy and commitment. He'd liked her, had enjoyed spending time with her... but the night she told him she loved him was the last night he spent with her, he realized.

He blinked, doing a quick mental replay of his other girlfriends. Goddamn it, Jewel was right. In the beginning, his last girlfriend had been content to see him the few days out of the month he was home and talk to him sparingly on the phone. They'd had a great sex life, one where they both found enjoyment. Then she'd started hinting that she wanted more. More of his time, more of him. She'd begun leaving clothing at his house. The shit exploded, however, when he found tampons in his medicine cabinet. Tampons, for God's sake. It had only been at that moment, as he stared at the feminine products, that he'd realized he was in a hard-core relationship.

He'd sweated for a couple days, but hadn't stopped seeing her. He'd wondered, though, why he felt no compulsion to tell her about his life. And why he hadn't wanted to introduce her to his family. If he had, maybe the "I love you" thing wouldn't have sent him flinging over the edge.

He hated one-night stands, or so he'd always told himself. Basically, that was all he'd ever had. One-night stands that lasted several months. He'd never told a girlfriend he loved her, never lived with a woman, either. Never told a woman about his life, his job, or his family. He shook his head in disbelief.

It wasn't like he wanted to remain a bachelor for the rest of his life. He actually liked the idea of marriage, children, and happily ever after. So what was the problem? Why did he refuse to allow himself to fall in love?

Only one answer sprang to mind. He hadn't met the right woman.

He frowned, considering the validity of that thought. If that disgusting cliche was true, it would mean there was only one person, one true love, for everyone. His dad and mom, he'd thought, had been soul mates. Then his mom died, and though his dad remained single for a

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