The Man Who Has No Love
Soulless #3
Victoria Quinn
One
Cleo
I got a yes.
But it came at a price—a heavy one.
I hung up the phone and set it on the coffee table, thinking about the difficult conversation I’d just had with the most difficult woman on the planet. I didn’t want to assist her in any way, not when she was so disrespectful and rude. Some of my clients were rough around the edges, but they came around once they realized how helpful I was. But she would always be a snob.
Which was ironic…because she didn’t even earn her own money.
She took it from someone else.
Her arrogance was completely unfounded.
And then Deacon would have to live in the same building as her. That was a double-edged blade. On the one hand, Derek would always be nearby, always just minutes away. And on the other hand…Valerie was always nearby.
Our relationship would be impossible to hide.
And if she knew, she might tattle on me.
I didn’t hate people often. I knew there was usually a reason for someone’s behavior, and sometimes they just needed love and affection to show their true colors. But in this instance…I just hated her.
I left the living room and went into the bedroom.
Deacon had already gotten ready for bed, brushing his teeth and washing his face, and now he was in bed. He sat up against the headboard, his hard chest illuminated by the city lights. He scrolled through his phone, one hand resting behind his head, the muscles of his arms bulging and tight.
I stilled in the doorway, forgetting the conversation and focusing on this gorgeous man.
When he noticed me, he set his phone on the nightstand and turned his gaze on me.
I walked to the bed and kicked off my heels when I stood next to it.
He continued to watch me, waiting for an answer without actually asking me for one. He was the most patient man in the world, could wait a lifetime for a response.
I didn’t want to get into his bed in my clothes after sitting at my desk all day and running errands throughout the building. So, I unzipped my skirt and let it fall to the floor before I removed my blouse.
His eyes were on me the entire time.
I got into bed in my underwear and leaned against the headboard beside him.
He dropped his arm behind my shoulders and encircled me with his other arm, pulling me closer, almost on his lap.
I turned into him more, my arms hooking around his perfectly chiseled stomach, like I was hugging a rock that was warm from sitting in the sun. I almost forgot about the conversation because he chased all my thoughts away, made me think of lush mountainsides, a quiet lake, of a fire burning in the hearth.
He looked down at my face, watching me stare out the window. “Baby?”
I stilled at the nickname, wasn’t sure if I’d actually heard it, if it was just a figment of my imagination, a fantasy I brought to life with my own desire. I looked up at him, my eyes softening. I’d been called that before, but it had never mattered until now. It fit me like a second skin, like a blanket on a cold night. “You’ve never called me that before…” I brushed my fingertips against his tight stomach, loving the way my fingers dipped and rose over his abs.
His gaze was impassive.
“I liked it.” I pressed a kiss to his chest, my lips lighting on fire from his delicious skin.
He leaned in and brushed a kiss along my hairline, his hand gliding into my hair at the same time.
Going from friends to lovers was easy. We crossed every line right away, getting into territory we could never come back from. And with every passing week, it got better and better, like our tenure as friends never happened at all. Sitting with him at the table and pretending there was nothing there felt so restrictive because it was unnatural. We were together, completely and utterly, and it was a disgrace to what we had to pretend otherwise.
I knew Deacon had fallen deep into this relationship without a single wall up. He trusted me implicitly, invested himself entirely, never compared what he had with me to his marriage again. He was fully present, living in the moment with me, letting the relationship grow organically without ever hitting the brakes.
And he was falling for me…the way I’d already fallen for him.
Minutes of silence passed, the two of us just being together. And then his deep voice shattered it, like broken glass. “What happened?”
I’d forgotten about the conversation because I was wholly absorbed in him. Nothing else seemed to matter when we were together. “Valerie said she was open to the idea.”
His eyebrow rose slightly, like he hadn’t expected that response.
“But she has a stipulation…”
“Of course, she does.”
“She said she’d only move to New York if I got her a residence here.”
His eyes dropped as he sighed.
“Yeah…”
“Is there even a unit available?”
“There is one opening up, actually.”
“But there’s a waitlist.”
“Yeah, but I can get around it.”
He turned away and looked out the window, his energy different.
“I tried to talk her out of it, but she wouldn’t listen. Said she wants me to wait on her hand and foot the way I do with you and the other residents.”
He shook his head.
“But the nice thing about that is, Derek will be so close.”
He didn’t seem enthused by that idea. “If I moved to LA, would you come with me?” He turned back to me, looking into my gaze.
He put me on the spot, and I had no idea what to say. “My job is here…”
“You don’t need a job if you have me.”
“But I like working.” I’d be so unhappy lying around the house all day waiting for him to come home. I hated yoga, and I liked talking to people during the day. It gave me a sense of accomplishment, validation.
“Couldn’t you start your own business there?”
“Yeah, but there’re already so many companies like that in LA. People are scattered all over the city. Our services are unique here because all the clients live in a single building.”
His eyes filled with disappointment.
“But yes, I’d move with you.” I’d sacrifice everything for this man without thinking twice about it. Because I would never be happy again if he left and I stayed here. There would never be another man who made me feel the way he did.
He watched me for a few seconds, his expression stoic, but his fingers moving in my hair…like it meant a lot to him. “She can move in to the building.” Instead of asking me to make the sacrifice and become unhappy, he decided to make the sacrifice himself. “We’ll just set some ground rules.”
“Alright.”
“And I’ve got to move anyway, so it really doesn’t matter.”
I didn’t want him to leave the building. I loved stopping by his residence to see him throughout the day, staring at his nice ass as he stepped out of the elevator and left through the entrance. I would miss that every single day.
“You think you can find me a place?” he asked. “Because once she’s here, it might be a lot harder to keep this a secret.”
I wished there were another way. I didn’t want him to give up his home just for me. “She might think you moved because of her.”
“Let her think that. I don’t give a damn.”
My hand rose up his chest. “You would really do that for me?”
His fingers pushed my hair from my face, like he wanted to appreciate my features without anything being in
the way. “I’d do anything for you.”
My eyes softened.
“Baby.” He smiled.
I smiled back. “We always have the cabin…”
“Yes. That’s our place.”
“Is that why you lied about the fumigation?”
He nodded. “I’m not letting her tarnish our happy place.”
Finding Deacon a new condo wasn’t the problem.
Finding the right assistant was.
Deacon had very specific needs, and not just with the errands, but with his relationship with the person helping him. He needed someone who didn’t like to chitchat, who could read his wants without asking a million questions, and pick up on his needs organically.
But no one was right for the job.
I was the only one who could handle him.
That made me feel guilty, that he was losing his greatest asset and getting a poor substitute. I couldn’t even give them any pointers because that violated my contract. Manhattan was a big city, but the circle of the rich and powerful was small, and people loved to talk.
I couldn’t risk it.
After my last interview of the day, I threw in the towel and decided to watch TV instead.
Now that Deacon came over unexpectedly, I tried to stock the fridge with a few items from one of the elite, organic grocery stores he preferred—even though it made a dent in my paycheck. He never said anything, but he didn’t appreciate my diet, didn’t like the burrito wrappers he would find in my apartment, and he didn’t want to join me in my horrid taste. So, I tried to keep a few things, that way, he wouldn’t grow hungry.
He cooked for me all the time—it was the least I could do.
He texted me. Have you eaten dinner?
I was too tired to eat. The second I came home, I plopped down on the couch, in my panties and blouse. No. Are you on the menu?
He picked up on my joke, even through text. Not the dinner menu. Just the dessert one.
I smiled. Are you coming by?
I’m taking my mom to dinner. I want you to come.
I’d already met the woman, but I immediately grew nervous. We shouldn’t go out together.
It’s a big city, Cleo. If anyone asks, I’ll lie.
We’d been out together before, but I hadn’t worried about it. If someone asked me, I could just tell the truth…and that was enough for me. But I was a terrible liar, so if someone asked me now, I wouldn’t know what to say.
I want her to know about us.
My heart was still racing. What if she tells someone?
Who?
Her assistant?
Then I’ll ask her not to. Problem solved.
I was still nervous—and not about my secret coming out.
Baby?
Yeah?
I feel like you aren’t telling me something.
I stared at his words on the screen, feeling guilty for not being upfront. I wrote a couple responses, deleted them, and then started over.
He must have grown impatient because he called.
I sighed before I answered.
He was quiet, not asking anything because his intent was perfectly clear.
“I’m just nervous to meet your mom…”
“You’ve already met her.”
“Yeah, but this is different.”
“Baby, she’s going to be happy. And if she weren’t, I wouldn’t care. You’re the woman I want, and if she can’t be supportive, I really don’t give a damn.”
“Everyone wants the approval of their parents.”
“Yes. I want my mother to like you. But it’s not going to change the way I feel about you if she doesn’t.”
I sighed into the phone.
“You’re confident. It’s one of the things I first noticed about you. But you aren’t confident now. Why?”
I was quiet.
“I asked you a question.” He was more direct than he used to be, comfortable enough to speak his mind.
I liked it because it was a turn-on. But right now, it worked against me. “Deacon, you’re a brilliant billionaire…”
He was quiet, like he didn’t understand my point.
“And I’m…you know…a servant.”
“You are not a servant.”
“I’m not stupid. I know I’m not good enough for you.”
He sighed loudly into the phone.
“And I’m just afraid she’s going to think that too, think I’m after your money or something. That I’ve taken advantage of my position to get closer to you, to have an opportunity to get into your bed.”
“No offense, but I’ve never heard you sound so stupid.”
I went quiet.
“A person’s worth isn’t determined by their wealth. Take my money away, and I’m the one not good enough for you, Cleo. You’re kind, compassionate, passionate… You have a heart that I’ll never have. You bent over backward for me when I was less than kind. So, don’t sit there and say I’m better than you. You’re better than that.”
My heart melted in my chest for the millionth time.
“I’m not sure what kind of impression you have of my mother, but she’s not like that. She would never think those things, Cleo.”
“I don’t think she would either. But you’re her son, and you’ve been burned in the past. She’ll be protective of you, because she should.”
He was quiet for a long time.
“I’m sorry…”
“Whether she likes you or not, this is going to happen. If you don’t want to do it tonight, we can do it another time. But I’m not keeping this a secret from her. I’m not going to pretend that I’m not in a serious relationship with you. I had to lie to Valerie because it was necessary, but I’m not doing that shit with anyone else.”
This man had such a tight grasp on my heart…and he had no idea. “I’ll go.”
“So, you’re going to stop all this bullshit about not being good enough?”
I smiled. “Well, my opinion won’t change, but I’m not going to say that to your mother.” Maybe he didn’t understand just how special he was, took himself for granted. Most people in the world only cared about being rich. That was the least of his concerns. He’d dedicated his life to making the world a better place. He was totally out of my league…and not just because he was gorgeous.
“Just be yourself.”
“Okay.”
“I’ll pick you up, and we’ll meet her there.”
“Alright. And Deacon?”
“Yes, baby?” He was still a little annoyed with the conversation but as attentive as ever.
“Thank you.”
“For?”
“Not seeing me the way everyone else does.”
We sat together in the back seat of the private car, his hand on my thigh. He looked out the window, his jaw clean because he’d shaved before he picked me up. He was in a collared shirt and slacks, looking sexy as hell with those powerful shoulders and strong chest. As if he knew I was staring at him, he turned my way.
I didn’t want him to leave his condo, but I was excited for us to be together without restraint, to make out with him in the back seat of his car without caring if the driver saw. I could grip his thigh under the table when we went out to dinner, tell everyone in my life that there was a special man in my bed…and my heart.
I felt like the luckiest woman in the world because he was mine.
His fingers lightly moved my dress up, like he could feel my thoughts, my energy. They moved high enough until he felt the lace of my panties, his large and callused hands taking up my entire thigh.
I almost parted my knees and let him raise the dress higher.
The car stopped outside the restaurant.
Deacon gave me a final look before he pulled his hand away and got out of the car.
I recognized it because we’d come here before, when he thanked me for bringing Derek out for his birthday. The food was delicious, and Deacon must have liked it too and wanted to introduce his mother to it.
When we got out of the car, he circled his arm around my waist.
I knew I should pull it off, but I couldn’t. It felt too right.
He opened the door for me, and we walked inside.
His mother was sitting alone at the table, enjoying a glass of white wine.
When we approached the table, she beamed at the sight of her son and got to her feet, her arms raised. “My son.” She hugged him tightly and kissed him on the cheek. “You look so handsome in that shirt.” She gave his arms a squeeze. “So strong.” She dropped her affection then turned to me. “Hey, Cleo. So nice to see you.” She gave me a one-armed hug, affectionate but nowhere near Deacon’s ballpark. “You look lovely.”
“Thank you, Margo.”
Deacon pulled out the chair for me.
I sat down and felt him push me in.
Then he sat beside me, right across from his mother.
“I didn’t realize you were coming,” Margo said. “What a nice surprise.”
Deacon grabbed the wine list and turned to me. “A bottle?”
“Sure,” I answered.
The waitress came to our table—and I recognized her right away.
It was Tess.
Her eyes went to Deacon, like she hadn’t forgotten about him. “Nice to see you again.”
He stared at her blankly, like he couldn’t figure out how they knew each other.
She turned to Margo. “Is this your mother?”
“Yes,” Deacon answered. “I thought she would enjoy this place.”
“That’s sweet,” she said. “Momma’s boy…I like it.”
I tried not to glare at her. I was annoyed with her behavior last time, but now that Deacon was my man, I was even more annoyed than before. She’d left her number, and he didn’t call—get the hint.
“What can I get started for you?” she asked.
“A bottle of wine for the table,” Deacon said. “White. Whatever you recommend.” He handed over the menu.
“I think I want an appetizer,” Margo said, looking at Deacon.
“Whatever you’d like,” he said.
“Let’s do the gnocchi,” Margo said.
“That’s what I got last time we came here,” I said. “And it’s soooo good.”
The Man Who Has No Love (Soulless Book 3) Page 1