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Damon (Billionaire Friends to Lovers Romance)
Damon (Billionaire Friends to Lovers Romance)
Damon (Billionaire Friends to Lovers Romance)
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Damon (Billionaire Friends to Lovers Romance)

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Eleni Litras recognized a kindred spirit when she saw one. Damon loved to have a good time, was allergic to commitment, and was honest to a fault. He wasn’t afraid to speak his mind, even if it meant raising a few eyebrows. She loved that about him. In fact, she feared she may be falling in love with him. But her tragic upbringing taught her trust was a filthy four letter word.

Damon Starkis partied like a rock star most of his life, with little regard for consequences. That was one of the many advantages of being born to a billionaire. But when he got news that rocked his world, he had a choice... grow up or risk losing out on the opportunity of a lifetime. Change didn’t come easily, but he was proud of his new life and the man he’d become, except for one little problem. The secrets and lies were piling up and if Eleni found out, she’d never forgive him.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateJul 10, 2015
ISBN9781311609052
Damon (Billionaire Friends to Lovers Romance)
Author

Cheryl Douglas

Cheryl Douglas is a USA Today bestselling author who kicks back in the country, surrounded by farm land and nature. Her life revolves around family, country music, travel, caffeine, chocolate, and deadlines.Visit Cheryl at www.authorcheryldouglas.com

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  • Rating: 2 out of 5 stars
    2/5
    Well the heroine certainly got over the hero’s big secret super quick…like it was no big deal. Again, we have a heroine who is made to feel guilty for her past while the hero is celebrated for being a player. I spent more time rolling my eyes than enjoying this. I liked his brother’s book better…and that had the convenient excuse of being a sex addict ?

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Damon (Billionaire Friends to Lovers Romance) - Cheryl Douglas

Prologue

Damon


No! Hell no. I’d traveled halfway around the world to escape a crazy ex, and I hadn’t expected to find another in my favorite café in Saronida. Of course, it was my own damn fault for leaving a trail of jilted lovers everywhere I went. I hadn’t seen this particular one in almost seven years, and I could have happily gone another seven years without seeing her.

What we’d had that summer was fun, nothing more. When she’d left our small village in Greece to return to school in Boston, I had been ready to say good-bye, except she never gave me the chance. She’d taken off without a word, which gave me hope that maybe she wouldn’t acknowledge me today.

Our eyes locked, and the color drained from her face. Then I noticed her companions. I recognized her mother, who owned a little dress shop in the village, but I’d never seen the little dark-haired girl. As though she sensed my eyes boring into the back of her head, the child turned around. I sucked in a breath as I stumbled back, looking for something solid to hold on to. She was the spitting image of my sister, Tiana, when she’d been that age. What the hell…?

Andra said a few words to her mother and the little girl before they got up and hurriedly left the restaurant and Andra behind, rushing past me without a backward glance. I made my way to her table as I mentally did the math. The child looked about six years old, which meant… no, I couldn’t even allow myself to entertain the possibility that she was mine. I wasn’t ready to be a father. Hell, no child in their right mind would want to claim me as their parent.

I stood in front of Andra, clenching my fists as I spit out, Explain.

She gestured to the chair across from her as she brushed her dark hair off her face. With a heavy sigh, she said, I didn’t expect to see you again, Damon. I heard you don’t spend much time in the village anymore.

We’d both been born there, but since she was several years younger than I was and I’d left Greece as a child, we hadn’t met until that fateful summer when our paths had crossed. Now I had to wonder whether that day had changed the course of my life. Had we conceived a child? Racking my brain, I tried to remember if it was even possible. I was always scrupulous about protection—my friends liked to joke I was trying to turn sex into an Olympic sport—but I knew no method of contraception was foolproof.

I don’t spend much time here, I said, swiping a hand over my face. I’m just here for a few days, visiting family and friends. What about you?

My father is sick.

I’m sorry. I’d never met her father, but I remembered how much he meant to her. I sat, my tone softening when I asked, Is it serious?

Her dark eyes drifted to my clenched hands. I’m afraid so. The doctors tell us he’s running out of time.

I was dying to ask her about the child, but it seemed insensitive at the moment. Then you’re here for a while?

I’ll stay as long as I can. She shrugged. But I have to get back to work, and I don’t want Dalia to miss too much school. She only has a few weeks left before summer break.

Dalia? I rolled the name around on my tongue, liking the way it sounded. She’s your daughter? I let the unasked question hang in the air, hoping Andra had the courage to address it without being asked.

Yes. She dropped her head, licking her lips. I’m sure you must wonder—

She looks exactly like my sister did at that age, I whispered, leaning in. That’s not a coincidence, is it?

She closed her eyes before covering her face with her hands.

Gripping her wrist, I lowered her hand. I already knew the answer, but I had to ask. I had to hear her admit it. She’s mine, isn’t she?

Her eyes narrowed before she shook her head. She has a father, Damon. A good father who loves her. He would do anything for her.

That’s when I noticed the narrow band of gold decorating her finger. It came as a shock, but since I’d never been in love with Andra, seeing it wasn’t the gut-punch it could have been. But your husband isn’t her biological father, is he?

I didn’t know why I was pressing the issue. She’d given me a response that would allow me to walk away without guilt, but after seeing that angelic little face, I couldn’t just walk away without knowing the truth.

He’s her daddy in every way that matters.

I was getting annoyed. Clenching my jaw, I said, That’s not what I asked. Is she mine?

Her eyes finally locked with mine, but instead of fear, they showed determination. I did get pregnant that summer we spent together.

Why didn’t you tell me? If we hadn’t been in the middle of a crowded café where everyone knew not only my name but my parents’ as well, I wouldn’t have been able to keep my temper in check. I had a right to know.

Did you? She crossed her arms on the tabletop. You made it clear you had no use for children and never wanted to be tied down. I knew if you found out I was pregnant, you would have accused me of getting pregnant on purpose because I was after your family’s money.

Andra wouldn’t have been the first woman to claim she was pregnant with my baby, and I had reacted to that woman the way Andra predicted I would. In that case, I’d been right. The baby wasn’t mine.

I still had a right to know.

And I had an obligation to our daughter. She was my only concern.

I could tell she was fiercely protective of Dalia, with good reason. Andra had to wonder whether I was going to make her life a living hell now that I knew the truth. In all honesty, I had no idea what I was going to do. I was still in shock.

Is she really happy? Strange how that was my first concern. I’d never considered myself the paternal type. Andra was right. I’d told her I wasn’t interested in having kids, but that was a long time ago. People changed, matured. At least most people did. Those who knew me would undoubtedly say I hadn’t grown up at all in the years since Andra had known me.

She is happy. A slight smile touched her lips. My husband really is wonderful with her. He loves her as though she were his own.

That should have put my mind at ease, but instead it cut deep. I’d never felt the desire to be a parent, but now that I knew I was, it hurt like hell to know another man had taken my place. I didn’t know why, but it was important to me that Dalia knew about me.

Does she know she has another dad?

No. Looking remorseful, Andra shook her head. We thought it was for the best.

I thought back to that summer we’d spent together and tried to remember details of Andra’s life back then. You said you’d just broken up with someone, that you thought you might be able to work things out when you returned to school. Was he the guy?

Yes. She smiled. When I returned to school, I told him about the pregnancy, and he offered to marry me.

I didn’t think I would have been able to step up like that. Marriage still scared the hell out of me. Andra was a sweet girl, but I’d never fooled myself into believing she could be the love of my life. But whether I liked it or not, she was the mother of my child. I had to figure out how to handle that.

He sounds like a good man. If he’d taken care of Andra and Dalia when I couldn’t, I knew I owed him a debt of gratitude.

He’s amazing. Her eyes lit up. My parents would have been mortified if they’d found out I was unmarried and pregnant. Times may have changed, but my parents are still traditional. So we got married in Boston and then told them about the pregnancy. Since Dalia was born in the States, I was able to tell them she was born premature.

I still can’t believe this. It was finally sinking in. I was somebody’s dad.

Andra’s hand covered mine. I know you must think I’m horrible for keeping this a secret, but please try to understand. I loved Nic. I wanted to be with him. What we had was just… She gestured back and forth between us. You know, a summer fling.

She was right. Neither of us had ever pretended it could be more, but that didn’t excuse her behavior. Nic?

Yes, he’s Greek too. After a half-smile, she said, That made my father happy. It also means there’s no confusion for Dalia. She’s being raised Greek-Orthodox. She covered her stomach with her hand. Just like her brother will be.

You’re pregnant? Since she hadn’t stood, I’d only seen her from the chest up. How far along are you? I didn’t know why that mattered, only that it did. Perhaps I was concerned about putting undo stress on her, given her delicate condition.

Almost five months.

Congratulations, I said softly. They were growing their family, a family that was centered around my flesh and blood.

Thank you. We’ve been trying for a long time. Nic couldn’t be happier.

I’m sure. If he was as wonderful with Dalia as Andra claimed, he would be thrilled to have a son of his own. I scrubbed a hand over my face. I still can’t believe you didn’t tell me about this. If I hadn’t walked in here today, I could have gone my entire life without knowing I have a daughter. Can’t you see how wrong that is?

Crossing her arms, she leaned over the table. What would you have done if I’d told you? Would you have proposed to me out of obligation? Would you have made some half-assed attempt to be a father, even though that was the last thing in the world you wanted? Would you have given up the other women? Would you have stopped partying? Would you have settled down and gotten a real job, or would you have carried on as though we didn’t even exist?

She had every right to ask those questions. I only wished I had the right answers. I honestly don’t know what I would have done, but I should have been given the opportunity to figure it out.

You can’t pretend you would have turned into a stand-up guy overnight. We both know that never would have happened. From everything I’ve heard about you since, you’re still the same guy now that you were back then.

I routinely made the cover of celebrity gossip rags, mainly because I loved to party with A-list celebrities, especially beautiful blondes. Maybe I could have changed… for Dalia’s sake.

Andra laughed before covering her mouth with her hand. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t laugh. But you don’t believe that any more than I do. Face it, you’re not ready to be a husband or a father. And that’s fine. No one expects you to be either.

Angered by her dismissal, I asked, What if I want to be a father? What gives you the right to decide I’m not ready?

Her expression turned somber. I know your family is obscenely wealthy and powerful, but that doesn’t mean a judge couldn’t see the obvious. Nic and I are the best thing for Dalia. Having you in her life could only hurt her.

Her words stung, mainly because I feared they may be true. Was I really so terrible that my own child would be better off without me? I thought about my lifestyle: the endless parade of women, copious quantities of alcohol, late-night parties, travel… maybe Andra was right. Maybe Dalia was better off without me.

I don’t mean to hurt you, she said softly. Some people just aren’t cut out to be parents. That doesn’t make you a bad person. In fact, admitting it makes you a good parent.

I didn’t appreciate being patronized by the woman who’d played God with my life. How do you figure?

Think about it. Hundreds, maybe thousands, of people put their children up for adoption every single day. Why? Because they love them enough to want them to have a better life than the one they could provide.

Most people who selflessly gave up their babies did so because they couldn’t provide for them. With my family’s billions, I certainly couldn’t have claimed to be a hard-luck case. If money was the only thing I had to offer, I was determined Dalia would never want for a damn thing.

I can provide for my daughter.

This isn’t about money, Andra said, sitting back. Can’t you see this is about doing what’s best for her? She’s happy. She’s excited about having a little brother. She has two parents who love her and each other. Would you really want to uproot her life? When I didn’t respond, she asked, Why? Because it’s what you want? Being a parent is about putting your kid first. What you want doesn’t matter anymore. The only thing that matters is what’s best for them.

I knew she was right, but the churning in my gut told me that if I walked away from Dalia, I’d regret it for the rest of my life. What if I were the kind of father she deserved?

What?

What if I could be that upstanding guy, someone she could be proud of? Like your husband.

Let’s deal with the facts, she said, her dark eyes meeting mine. How many women are you seeing?

Excuse me?

"I don’t want my daughter exposed to that lifestyle, and there isn’t a judge in the world who would disagree with me unless you paid him to. So instead of talking about the man you could be someday, why don’t we talk about the man you are today?"

I swallowed. I wasn’t anxious to look in that mirror.

So I’ll ask again, how many women are you seeing?

Clearing my throat, I dipped my head to avoid her gaze. A few.

How many in the last two weeks?

I don’t see what this has to do with—

A child needs stability in her life, Damon. She closed her eyes as though I was testing her patience. You can’t provide that.

I’d never wanted to defend myself more, but I couldn’t. She had my number, and we both knew it. Anyone can change.

Maybe. She stood. Maybe not. Touching my shoulder, she said, "Maybe we can have this conversation again someday. Just know that when or if we do, my concern, my only concern, will be protecting my daughter."

Chapter 1

Damon


One Year Later


She doesn’t know who she’s dealing with, I said, slamming my fist on the mahogany desk. If she thinks I won’t find a way to provide for my own daughter, she’s crazy.

I know you’re getting impatient, my lawyer said, trying to placate me with a sympathetic look that made me want to smack him. But we’re doing all we can to work this out.

I didn’t need his sympathy. I needed him to earn the outrageous retainer I paid him and figure out how to make Andra accept the monthly checks I sent for Dalia. Even though no one else knew the truth about her parentage yet, I needed to know I was doing the right thing.

But Andra has the upper hand, and she knows it. David shifted uncomfortably, his face turning red as he slipped two fingers into the neck of his button-down shirt when I fixed him with a look that told him it was his job to make his biggest client happy. If you force this, she could go to the media and your family. She’ll make you look like the bad guy, claiming you told her you never wanted to be a father.

Do I pay you to recite facts I already know? I demanded, leaning in close enough to see the beads of perspiration dotting his high forehead.

David had been on our family’s legal team for years, but his excess weight and bum ticker made him a lousy candidate for this delicate assignment. I feared the pressure of keeping this secret from my menacing father and brother might send the old guy to an early grave. As if I didn’t have enough on my conscience.

I don’t know what more I can do or say, David said, taking a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe his forehead. You know what your options are: either let this go or fight it out in court.

I can’t let it go. We’re talking about my child. You’ve seen the pictures of that hovel they’re living in. I tossed the envelope containing the returned check back at David. This money would change their lives. Why are they being so goddamn stubborn?

Uh, Damon, I hate to bring this up, but—

What? I asked, knowing whatever he was about to say would do little to improve my mood.

I happened to see a picture of you in the paper this morning. You were out for dinner last night with your brother, his fiancée, and another woman—Eleni Litras?

Yeah, so? Just the mention of Eleni’s name got me hot. I’d been after that girl since my brother, Deacon, had introduced us eight months ago, but she’d been playing it cool, pretending she wasn’t interested. Last night, I’d sensed my ice princess was finally thawing. Of course, it could have had something to do with the Sambuca shooters the girls did after dinner.

If you do plan to take Andra to court, a stable relationship might help your cause, but Miss Litras may not be the best choice.

Why the hell not?

The press loves to play up your relationships with women like your model friend. Andra may assume you’re still living it up if she sees pictures of the two of you together.

The paparazzi had always hounded me as if I were a freakin’ rock star, probably because I had a bad habit of getting into trouble that usually involved paying a hefty fine and spending a night or two in jail for reckless behavior. But I’d been trying to clean up my act since I’d returned to the States, mainly because I didn’t want Andra to think she hadn’t made an impression on me.

Eleni is a friend. My resentment at having to explain my relationship with Eleni to some crotchety old man laced my every word. But for the record, what I do with her is my business.

Actually, David said, smoothing a hand over the leather briefcase in his lap, if this goes to court, the woman, or women, you spend time with will be called into question.

I don’t give a goddamn what they—

You have to care, David said. If you want to get to know your daughter, which seems to be your plan, you have to prove to the court that you’re responsible, especially if her parents contest the visitation.

Fine, I hear you. I had no intention of cutting Eleni out of my life. I would just have to find a way to ensure our time together was private. Anything else?

That’s all for now, David said, getting to his feet with a weary sigh. Ah, Damon, I only hopes this works out the way you want it to.

He wasn’t the only one. Every day without Dalia was starting to feel longer than the last. I was starting to obsess over the things I was missing, the firsts I’d never witnessed, and the days slipping away.

My father threw my office door open without knocking, which was typical. He didn’t care whether I was on the phone or in the middle of a meeting. Because he owned the building, he thought he got free access to every square foot of the place whenever he wanted. Yet another reason why I had my eye on an office building downtown. Working for the family business was one thing, but living under my father’s thumb was quite another.

Well, hello to you too, I said, not tearing my eyes away from my computer screen. I knew he hated it when he didn’t get a person’s undivided attention, so I routinely ignored him just to get under his skin. What can I do for you?

I saw David Reese getting on the elevator. I asked him what he was doing here, but he was vague. What was that about?

I couldn’t let him see a crack in my veneer. I’d done a good job of keeping my meetings with David a secret, and I couldn’t give my father reason to dig deeper. He wanted to speak to me about some property I’m looking to acquire. David wasn’t a real estate lawyer, a fact my father would undoubtedly point out. His, uh, partner is handling it for me, but since he’s out of town, David is filling in for him.

Demetrius frowned as he poured himself a scotch at the mini-bar in the corner of my office. What kind of property? You didn’t mention anything to me about that.

A quick glance at the time on my computer screen told me it was just north of noon, but since my father was dressed for a round of golf with his buddies at the club, I knew he would be well on his way to feeling good in a few hours.

I don’t have to consult you every time I make a move, I said, the lingering annoyance from my meeting with David finding a new target.

You didn’t answer my question. He took a small sip of the scotch before apparently deeming it fit for consumption. What kind of property is it?

Demetrius was used to his sons challenging him. My brother and I were the only ones who could oppose him without feeling his wrath. I assumed that was because he’d raised us to be strong, opinionated, and domineering—like him. He’d raised his daughter, Tiana, to be sweet and submissive.

An office building downtown. I scrambled to remember some of the details about the building I intended to make an offer on, knowing he would demand the specifics. I live downtown. It makes sense for me to have an office downtown. The commute here every day is killing me.

You could use your car and driver like a civilized person.

When I’d been in Greece, Deacon had hired my driver, Barry, to take care of Mia. Since it seemed important to my brother to have someone he trusted watching his fiancée’s back when he couldn’t, I hadn’t had the heart to ask Deacon to find someone else.

I like driving the Ferrari, I said, tongue in cheek. I knew my blatant need for speed incensed my father. Drag racing expensive sports cars with my private school friends had almost landed me in juvie more times than I could count when I was a teen, shaming and enraging my father. That had been part of the fun. It helps me blow off steam.

I’m surprised you still have a driver’s license, given all the speeding tickets you’ve gotten driving that thing. His lips folded into a grim line. You do still have a license, don’t you? You wouldn’t be stupid enough, reckless enough, to drive without one, would you?

You say the nicest things, I muttered, reaching for my bottle of Perrier. Yes, I have a license. If that’s all, you can leave now. My father hated being dismissed like the hired help, which was why I did it every chance I got.

Not so fast, he said, scowling. I want to hear more about this office building. I don’t know if I like this. I’ve gotten used to having you here, where I can keep an eye on you.

Another reason I don’t want to be here. I turned my swivel chair and kicked my feet up on the desk. "You wanted me to come work for the company, to manage your real estate portfolio. I

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