The Billionaire's Princess - Ava Ryan Page 0,58

check my watch. “And speaking of tonight, we’d better get going if we want to make our reservation.”

“One second.”

She closes her eyes and nuzzles her cheek against the cat’s head, her smile lingering. It’s one of those overflowing moments that has everything jammed inside it. She’s happy with her birthday present, which means I’m happy. We have a great night ahead of us. We’re together. This, for me, is as good as my life is likely to get. I want to stay here, just like this, for as long as possible.

But her lids flick open, revealing a hint of vulnerability in those bright blue eyes as she opens her mouth. Hesitates.

“Do you think you could love me one day, Damon?” she asks quietly. “It would really make my life easier if you gave me a hint. One way or the other.”

I freeze, classic deer in headlights as something unidentifiable inside me soars while my gut simultaneously plummets.

There it is. Another push–pull moment rising to make roadkill out of me when I least expect it.

And two answers battle for supremacy inside me. Neither winning. Neither losing.

I don’t believe in love, Carly. Sorry.

I couldn’t stop myself from loving you if I wanted to.

Too late, I realize that the moment has gone on way too long. That she’s flushed with embarrassment now instead of flushed with excitement the way she was a minute ago. That I’ve ruined everything.

“It’s okay,” she says, hastily hitching her smile back into place as she avoids looking me in the face. She stands and sets the cat down. Heads for the bedroom as he scampers off. “Stupid question. Forget I said anything.”

“Carly…”

“This crazy cat is peering out at me from under the bed. I’m guessing that’s his new favorite hiding place.” She tries to laugh, but the sound is strained. “I hope you’ve cat-proofed your entire apartment. Oh, and before I forget, Percy will be there at the opening tomorrow. Just wanted to give you a heads-up.”

I freeze.

If there’s one thing that can burst the thrilling bubble of the last few minutes, this announcement is it.

“Come again?”

“Percy. I thought the opening was a good chance to reach out and mend fences, so I invited him. I didn’t expect him to come, but he says he’ll be in town. I hope you don’t mind.”

In town my ass. I’d bet my entire portfolio that old Percy still wants her back. He probably received her invitation and dropped everything to be on the next flight back to her side.

The smart part of my brain, the portion that’s helped me build a real estate empire, tells me to keep my mouth shut.

But the visceral, primitive part of me, the portion that seems determined to make me feel like shit tonight and to ruin things with Carly, seizes control and requires me to protect what’s mine. What I need.

And that, sports fans, is Carly.

“I don’t want you seeing him,” I bark.

In my defense, I knew it was a fucking stupid thing to say even while the words were coming out of my mouth. The surest way to alienate someone is to march around issuing orders as though you can control the other person. But I’m discovering that jealousy and common sense cannot peacefully coexist inside me. Besides, it hasn’t been that long since I faced down the legitimate fear that Carly might go back to him. I don’t want to revisit that dark place.

Shit.

I really thought that guy was in our rearview mirror. Along with my uncertainties about whether Carly belongs with me or not.

That’s what I get for being complacent.

Her brows go up, right on cue. She cocks her head.

“What did you just say?”

There it is. The lifeline fools like me need when we shoot off at the mouth. All I have to do is grab that lifeline. Back-pedal. Rephrase. Admit to an insecurity or two and politely request that she keep her contacts with the guy she almost married to a bare minimum. That’s a much better plan. A strategic plan.

Too bad I ignore it.

I stare her in the face.

“I. Don’t. Want. You. Seeing. Him.”

Just like that, she weapons up, turns to ice and hits me with her crossed arms, dagger eyes and jagged tongue.

“Do American women respond to that? You booming out orders as though you’re a bloody drill sergeant? Because I don’t. And if I wanted a man to control my life, I’d run back home to Daddy.”

“Why would you reach out to him? You want him back?”

“No, I