Sometimes I wish there was something else I could give Elena, something other than fragile, delicate flowers.

I park my bike, then take off my helmet and unzip my jacket. Like some kind of cheap magician, I pull out a bouquet of flowers from inside my leather jacket.

Every damn night, I worry these flowers won’t make it safely to the destination.

I tried sticking them in the space between the windscreen and the handlebars, but they fell off one time, and I had to return to the store to buy a new bouquet. I tried putting them in a backpack, but they got crushed, and I had to go back to the flower shop that time too.

That second time, the girl who worked at the shop fluttered her eyelashes at me. After giving me my second bouquet of roses for the night, she slid a piece of paper with her number across the counter and said, “In case you need . . . more.”

Thankfully, the flower petals are unharmed so I won’t have to go back there tonight. I think I’ve had my technique down pat. I just wear a larger jacket, stick the stems under the waistband, and ride slow.

I wait just in front of Elena’s building until a couple approaches the entrance. They’re walking arm in arm, swaying left and right, unsteady on their feet as his hand slips under her jacket.

Perfect. A couple of drunk, horny people won’t mind a stranger—even one who looks as dangerous as I do—slipping into the building when they open the doors.

The plastic wrapped around the flower crinkles as I climb up the emergency stairs. I can’t use the elevator because I don’t have the key fob required to get to any floor other than the ground floor.

Elena lives on the twelfth floor, which isn’t terrible considering this building has about fifty floors.

A thin film of sweat has covered my skin by the time I see the number 12 painted on the wall. As I push the emergency door open and enter the carpeted, air-conditioned hallway, I take a deep breath.

There’s a hint of Elena’s scent in the air, although maybe that’s just my imagination since she probably spends two minutes in this hallway a day.

Standing just outside her apartment door, I wish I had X-ray vision so I could see what she’s doing.

She’s home—that much I know for sure because I’ve been following her to make sure she’s okay. As much as I hate Enzo, we can probably agree that Elena could become a target at any time because he has way too many enemies in this city.

As usual, I pull out a pen from my jacket pocket. Holding the card against the door, I start to write my apology on the small card I got from the flower shop.

When the door gives way, I tumble forward.

The card and the pen fall to the floor . . . inside Elena’s apartment.

“Got you,” she says.

I stand there, slack-jawed, taking her in. She looks perfect, even though her makeup has smeared around her eyes and she’s only wearing yoga pants and a tank top.

“I’ve been waiting for you all night. What makes you think this is a good time for a visit?” Elena glances at her phone. “Four a.m.? Can’t you just call ahead and buzz my apartment like a normal person?”

She’s speaking faster than normal and making wild gestures with her hands. She’s moving like a squirrel on crack.

The scent of coffee fills my nose—that explains it. “How much coffee did you have?”

Elena pauses but only for a moment. “What does it matter? You think it’s easy to stay up until four a.m.? I needed the coffee to function.”

“You stayed up for me?” I can’t help but smile.

“Yeah, I stayed up to catch you in the act. What other reason is there? To buy a vacuum cleaner for only three easy installments of twenty-nine ninety-nine from the home shopping ch—”

Suddenly I’m cupping the back of her head and kissing her lips. Her soft, delicate, sweet lips. The same lips that have been on my mind every single waking moment of the past few months.

Elena tries to resist, her hands on my chest pushing me away as she continues another string of arguments. But we both know she wants this too; otherwise she wouldn’t have waited for me.

Soon she’s parting her lips, letting me in, kissing me back. And the pressure from her hands gets weaker and weaker until she slides them onto my back, wrapping her arms around me, pulling me closer.

It feels like we’re letting out everything we’ve been holding in for months. The kiss is hot, passionate, and my cock is raging hard when we break apart.

But the look in her eyes tells me this isn’t going further. And that’s okay.

This is not a booty call. It’s not just sex I want from her.

I want more. I want to have her, live with her, see her face right before I fall asleep and right after I wake up in the morning, and someday I want to raise our children together.

She glances over her shoulder. I let my hands fall to my side.

“Come in,” she says awkwardly, pointing at the couch.

The crumpled-up blanket on it tells me that’s where she sat, waiting for me. The cup of coffee on the table still has white steam rising up from it.

I take my seat and glance at her laptop. “You’ve been doing some surveillance, huh?”

Elena sits beside me then leans forward to grab her coffee and shuts the laptop. “Something like that.” She takes a sip.

“You know, you could’ve left me a note on your door if you wanted to see me.”

She stares at me. “I didn’t think of that.”

I laugh. “You thought of a spy cam instead.”

“Guess I’m more like my dad than I thought.” Elena shrugs.

I didn’t expect that, but it’s as good a segue as anything else. “Look, princess, I’m so sorry for what I did.”

“Fooling me into sneaking out to see you? Keeping me against my will? Tying me up? Blackmailing my dad? Trying to shoot him? Which one?”

“All of the above.” I look back at her, unflinching. “Maybe I should’ve tried to forgive Enzo—that would’ve been the right thing to do—but that wasn’t the kind of world I lived in. You know that.

“One thing for sure, though, I shouldn’t have involved you. You had nothing to do with it. I’m so sorry, princess.”

Elena glances at the black coffee in her mug, then looks up at me. “I forgive you, Damon. You can stop apologizing.”

I search her face and find honesty. But I have to ask. “You do?”

Elena nods. “I’ve given it a lot of thought. And I understand what it was like from your perspective. My dad had wronged you, and there was no way for you to get justice from the system. The cops would’ve just turned you away.”

I stare at her. Scooting a little closer to her on the couch, I reach out and touch her hand. “I know this may be too much to ask. You’ve already forgiven me for something I did that was unforgivable. But do you think we could . . .”

I’ve imagined this moment countless nights before. I’ve practiced my lines a bunch of times. Everything goes out the window when I feel her skin, but this needs to be said.

“Princess, I love you. I told you that at the hospital, and I meant it. I know there’s something between us, and I know you feel it too. That kiss . . . That was something. You can’t deny it.”

“I forgive you, and I’ll admit it I do have feelings for you.” Elena shakes her head as I hold my breath. She continues, “But I can’t, Damon. My dad would never approve of it.

“When I think about the future, I always imagine my family being a part of it. My parents. My siblings. I don’t know how to go through life being stuck between you and my dad forever.”

Elena may think her words have disappointed me. But on the contrary, she’s telling me she has thought about a future with me. A future that lasts forever.

She takes this so seriously that she’s even considered going against her family. And she’s been raised to put the family’s needs above her own.

This is her telling me she wants me too. She may not say it in words, and she may not have realized it, but she returns my feelings.

“I’ll make it right with your dad,” I say, giving voice to her unspoken wish. “I’ll make this work. I promise.”

Elena stares at me, her eyes filled with disbelief.

“I’ll do anything for you, princess. Anything to make you happy,” I say, stroking the back of her hand with my thumb. “You make me want to become a better man. A man who’s worthy of you.

“In the past few months, I’ve gotten a new job. Remember when I used to teach Matteo how to fight?” I watch her reaction and smile when she nods. “I’m a martial arts instructor now.

“Don’t laugh, but I’ve thought about it a lot. Someday I’ll have my own studio.” I hesitate before I continue, but I’ve already gone too far to turn back now. “I teach this kids class, princess. And sometimes I think about having my own kids in a class like that, in my own studio.” I catch her gaze. “Our own kids.”

Elena says nothing. But her eyes are filling with tears, and she’s blinking a lot to hold them back.

“Think about it, princess,” I say, gripping her hand in mine. “I can convince your dad I’m the right man for you. I’ll bet he’s nervous about you living here on your own. I can be there for you, protect you. I’ll even trade my bike for a bulletproof car if that’s what it takes to keep you safe.”

She laughs, and a tear escapes her left eye.

“What do you say, princess?” I ask, my heart pounding so hard it feels like it’s trying to escape from my rib cage.

“I . . .” She wipes her cheeks with the back of her hand. “I won’t lie. All those things . . . They sound great. But Damon, I don’t know if it’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“It just seems like a really big decision.” She pauses. “I’m not used to making such big decisions. My dad makes the big decisions for me.”

“You can start now. You’ve moved out. That’s a pretty big decision, right?” I smile. “Princess, it doesn’t have to be a big decision. You can give it a try and see how it goes.”

“I don’t know . . .”

“What if I promise I won’t ever kidnap you again?”

Elena giggles. “It’s not about that . . .”

“Then what?”

“I . . . When I left the men my dad had assigned to look after me and went to you, it was because I wanted to see you, but it was also because I wanted freedom. These past few months, sleeping in my old bed in my dad’s house, I couldn’t stop thinking about running away into your arms again . . . but I didn’t know if I wanted to see you or if I wanted freedom. I still don’t.”

“What will it take for you to find out?” I ask.

“Time,” she says with confidence. “If I have enough time away from my dad’s influence, I think I’ll know. If I have my freedom and don’t stop wanting to run into your arms . . . I’ll know.”

“Can I see you while you figure that out?” I ask. “Or do you want me to stick to leaving flowers outside your door?”

Elena laughs. “I’d like it if we can see each other. But I can’t promise you anything.”

“Deal. Breakfast tomorrow?”

“You mean later today? It’s, like, almost six.” Elena glances at her phone.

“Anything, princess. As long as I get to see you.”