The Man Who Has No Love (Soulless Book 3)

by Victoria Quinn

  “I understand, Cleo.”

  “I just don’t think you need to put all the responsibility on yourself.”

  I was one of the few people in the world with the skills to do it, and if I’d worked harder and faster, I might have been able to save my father. “Only a couple people are capable of doing it, and I’m among them. I need to keep doing my best, and if I don’t find the solution in my lifetime, someone else will pick up my work, and all that data will be invaluable.” I took myself seriously, not because of arrogance, but because I felt responsible to put my brilliant mind to good use—for humanity.

  She looked at me with affection in her eyes, like she respected me and my cause. “Do the best you can with the time you have. But don’t put the weight of the world on your shoulders. You’re the best man I know. Being a parent is the hardest job in the world because it doesn’t come with an instruction manual. You’re a great father, so don’t ever think less of yourself.”

  She praised me in ways other people didn’t. She wasn’t a fanatic like other people could be sometimes, enamored of my successes and my wealth. She was impressed by me, the things I said, the way I felt about my life. It reminded me of the way I felt toward Derek, intense pride over his insignificant accomplishments…because I loved him. And she was the same way with me.

  She let the conversation fade away. “What happened with Valerie?”

  She was a bitch, like always. “She’s still seeing Jake. I told her I didn’t like him.”

  “Well, I don’t think it’s fair to tell her not to see him when he didn’t do anything to her.”

  “But he’s a piece of shit. I don’t want the mother of my child wasting her time on a piece of shit.”

  She nodded slightly.

  “I told her you were working here again, and she wasn’t happy about it.”

  “No surprise there…”

  “I just get sick of her shit. If I interact with her for more than a few minutes, I always get pissed off.”

  “That’s the sign of a toxic person.”

  Her toxicity was a fucking biohazard.

  “Do you think she’ll be a problem for us?”

  I didn’t care if she was. “I don’t care. Nothing will change.”

  “You don’t think she’ll keep Derek from you unless you stop seeing me or something?”

  That would be really petty, but I wouldn’t put it past her. Though, it was unlikely. “It’s too convenient to drop off Derek on her way out.” It was like having a free nanny. I could get to him at any time. If she wanted to take off for the weekend, she could just leave him on my doorstep.

  “That’s true.”

  “I’m not worried about it.”

  “So…you told her we were together?”

  “Not exactly. But it’s implied.”

  “How was it implied?”

  “Because I told her I got your job back.” I wouldn’t have done that unless I loved her.

  She shook her head. “I don’t think that’s as implied as you think. But she’ll figure it out eventually.”

  I finished my dinner, forgetting about Valerie the second her name was dropped. It was nice having her upstairs because Derek was so close, but that meant she was close too. Every time she pissed me off, I tried to focus on the positive instead of the negatives…like having my son in my life again.

  “How’s he doing in school?”

  “Good. He’s just a bit bored.”

  “He’s too smart for an advanced school—no surprise there.”

  I’d tried to place him in a higher grade right off the bat, but the principal told me kindergarten was too important to skip, that it was a vital year for their development. It was the baseline where they studied all the students to determine their needs going forward. “After the school year is over, they’ll put him in the grade that’s more appropriate.”

  “That’s great. I wonder how far he’ll jump.”

  “At least to third.”

  She smiled. “That’s so amazing. You hear about kids skipping a grade…but not several at a time.”

  I’d skipped several, several times. Teachers didn’t know what to do with me because I was such an unusual case. I wasn’t smart by published standards. I was unusually gifted. There was no protocol for that. I was moved around a lot as a result. Getting Derek into an advanced private school from the start would make his education much easier.

  She continued to drink her wine, her eyes on me. She would redirect her gaze, and it seemed to be forced, like she was trying not to stare so much. There was an invisible line between us, and she stayed far away from it, like she was afraid to spook me at any moment.

  I didn’t scare easily, but I knew she was traumatized by my absence, hurt so much that she was terrified to experience it again. I wished I could go back in time and do so much differently.

  “What has your life been like the last two months?” She didn’t interact with me, hardly saw me, so she had no idea what my day-to-day activity had been like. She used to be part of everything, even when we weren’t together. She knew about my schedule when she dropped off my mail or made deliveries.

  “I worked most of the time.”

  “So, you were in the lab?”

  I nodded. “I didn’t see Derek much because Valerie was pissed at me.”

  “Because you told her about me?”

  I nodded. “So, I worked the way I used to, like I did when I first moved here. My misery was obvious because colleagues commented on it. And when we got back together, they noticed the change in the opposite direction.”

  “Those people probably know you pretty well since they spend so much time with you.”

  I thought about everything that had happened with Kathleen. I felt like it was best not to tell Cleo, so if they interacted again, it wouldn’t be tense. But not telling her made me feel like a liar, made me feel like I was doing the very thing I asked her not to do…which made me a hypocrite. “A while ago…Dr. Hawthorne asked me out.”

  She was about to lift her glass from the table, but her fingers quickly released the stem, like that knowledge was a bit upsetting. She dropped her gaze and immediately looked uncomfortable, even though I’d told her I was never with anyone. Her hand moved into her hair, like she needed to fidget just so she had something to do with her fingers. “That doesn’t surprise me.”

  “I said no, obviously.”

  She still wouldn’t look at me.

  “And I told her it was because I was in love with you…even if we weren’t together anymore.”

  She inhaled a deep breath, her eyes still on the table.

  “I don’t want to upset you. I just felt deceitful not telling you it happened.”

  “I understand, Deacon. I had already assumed that it had happened.”

  Her assessment of my colleague had been right, so perhaps her meltdown at the charity dinner wasn’t completely ridiculous. Although, the entire interaction would have been avoided if she hadn’t hidden our relationship from the world.

  “When you told me you hadn’t been with anyone, she was the first person who came to my mind…and I was relieved.” She finally had the courage to look at me again, now that the bandage had been ripped from the skin.

  “After my divorce, I was eager to get back in the game. The chains of monogamy were no longer on my wrists. Every woman I saw in the bar was sexy. I wasn’t picky. Anytime an offer was put on the table, I took it. I was a man in my prime, aroused, anxious for sex. But then those desires suddenly stopped.” I could see the way she winced slightly at my description, but she didn’t ask me to stop.

  “It was months before we got together. I just lost my attraction to other women. I went to the bar with Tucker but always left alone, despite the offers. And then we got together…and that kind of monogamy was better than all the casual sex I’d had. And it was obviously better than what I had with Valerie. Once that monogamy was over…nothing changed. I didn’t want to go back. After what we’d had,
everything else was a major letdown. It’s like going from high-definition TV to standard. You just can’t go back…” I knew it wasn’t romantic to compare the woman I loved to television quality, but I couldn’t think of a better example.

  “Casual sex is exciting to most people, but to me, it became dull once I had what we had—that incredible, passionate, powerful, deep…connection. My point is, you describe Dr. Hawthorne as this sexy woman, but I honestly don’t see her that way. Because I’ve become incapable of it after you.” Cleo was the only woman who made my dick hard, the only one who got me in the mood, the only one I had any sexual feelings for. That had never happened to me before, even in my short-term relationships. I was like a penguin now, picking a mate for life.

  She took a deep breath, her eyes watering slightly at what I’d said, like it meant the world to her.

  “We’re like penguins, cardinals, sea horses…”

  Her eyes were still soft, but her eyebrow rose slightly.

  “Animals that mate for life,” I explained.

  “Aww…” She took another deep breath as she looked at me, her eyes still wet. “Sounds like you want to spend the rest of your life with me…”

  I didn’t intend to buy a diamond ring and ask her to be my wife. It was a traditional act for humans, but it wasn’t on my mind, maybe because I didn’t think that way. Marriage wasn’t a natural phenomenon. It was a legal act created by society. But monogamy was natural, and if that monogamy lasted forever, I was fine with that. “Yeah…I do.”

  Twenty

  Cleo

  I was relieved I didn’t have to return to my Brooklyn apartment. I’d hired a company to put the contents of the apartment into storage with the rest of my things.

  I didn’t admit it, not even to myself, but I never safe there. I was petite and attractive, so walking home alone at night was always a bit scary. If I got home before the sun went down, it would have been different. But I worked long hours, so after taking two trains, I was always walking down the sidewalk late at night.

  The walk to my old apartment in Manhattan had been easy because there were always people out, business professionals and families, and it was a nice neighborhood. But I had been so broke and so desperate for a place, I didn’t really understand what I’d signed up for.

  Deacon made all my problems go away.

  His residence immediately felt like home, even more so than it had before, even though I still slept in a different bedroom. Just knowing he was in the house put my mind at ease. His presence was strong enough to reach me through solid doors. I wanted to be in that bed with him, but I knew that would happen in time… I just had to be patient.

  I left my office and headed to the elevator to go upstairs. The door was about to shut, so I used my hand to block the door so I could squeeze inside.

  But now I wished I hadn’t.

  Because Jake stood there, in his suit and tie.

  I wanted to walk out, but it was already awkward enough. Seemed like it would make it worse to leave. I’d have to run into him at some point. It was unavoidable. So, I joined him in the elevator and stared straight ahead, holding the contracts I’d just received for a client. They were important, so I wanted to drop them off right away.

  But damn, those seventeen floors took a lifetime.

  Jake turned to me. “So, you’re fucking Deacon Hamilton.” Accusation was in his voice, like he thought I lied to him before.

  Not currently. But I wished I were. I kept my gaze on the door.

  Jake didn’t let it go. “I had the balls to tell my wife what happened, but you didn’t have the balls to tell me you were seeing him?”

  I was losing my temper—quick. I turned to him, meeting his gaze with viciousness. “You’re one to talk about balls when you don’t have any. You got me fired because I moved on with someone else?” He should have kept his mouth shut, not behaved like a child when he didn’t get his way. It was so petty. “That’s pathetic. At least the man I have now has more power than you ever will.” The doors opened, and I stepped out even though I had no idea if this was my floor. “And I’m not fucking Deacon Hamilton. I’m in love with Deacon Hamilton.” I turned back to get a look at his face.

  And he definitely looked pissed.

  I went to Deacon’s residence after work, enjoying the fact that I didn’t have to walk in the cold to the subway or my old apartment. When I was done for the day, all I had to do was take the elevator to his floor—and that was it.

  I had dinner with Deacon like always. He made something for the two of us, and it was always scrumptious. When the meal was over, I did the dishes, even though I never did the dishes in my own apartment. I just let them pile up until they started to grow mold. But I wanted to do my part, to pull my weight in his residence after he was so generous by inviting me to live there.

  He came up behind me and set the two wine glasses in the sink. Then he leaned against the counter, his arms crossed over his chest as he looked at me. “I had no idea you knew how to do dishes.”

  I turned to him, giving him a sour look.

  He grinned—looking so damn handsome.

  “I just didn’t have the time.”

  “Now you do?”

  “My commute was cut down from forty minutes to two. And I don’t have to cook either, so that’s saved me a lot of time.”

  “Miss your frozen burritos?” he teased.

  I gave him another sour look. “No. But they aren’t as bad as you think.”

  “If you knew what was inside them, you might feel differently about that…”

  “I’m a burrito girl, no matter what.”

  He chuckled and gave my ass a playful tap. “Burrito girl… That’s cute, baby.”

  I kept washing the dishes, but I did inhale a breath when I heard what he’d called me. It’d been so long since he’d used that nickname. He used to say it in my dreams, but that always made me feel worse, because I woke up in the middle of the night crying. Now, he said it effortlessly, like he didn’t even need to think about it.

  My hatred for Dr. Hawthorne hadn’t died away, even though she’d done nothing I wouldn’t do. Her only crime was wanting my man, and I couldn’t exactly blame her for that. But she was a brilliant, hot piece of ass, so I hated her. But he was mine—and would never call her baby—so I shouldn’t care.

  I finished the dishes then washed my hands and patted them dry with the linen cloth. “That wasn’t so bad.”

  “You did pretty well—for your first time.”

  I stayed at the sink and looked at him, wanting to live in this moment forever. It felt right, like we’d been doing this for years, like we hadn’t been apart for months. It was easy to picture my future with him, doing the dishes every night, watching Derek grow up, being Deacon’s wife. His money was nothing compared to his smile. His looks were nothing compared to his heart. I felt like the luckiest woman in the world to have him, to find him in this cold and cruel world.

  He seemed to recognize my change of mood because he mirrored me.

  I straightened because I’d been slightly hunched over the sink, and I looked at him, wishing there were words to describe my happiness in a way I hadn’t already. Just having a piece of him was better than having all of every man I’d ever been with. I didn’t mention Jake because I’d forgotten about the incident the second I came home. Everything outside this condo, outside the two of us, didn’t matter.

  His arms lowered from his chest, and then one hand slipped into my hair, his fingertips grazing my cheeks as he pulled the strands off my face, his touch warm against my neck, my ear, my skin.

  I immediately turned my cheek more completely into his palm, closing my eyes because I’d missed the way he used to touch me like this, missed how good it felt. His hugs were enough to comfort my pain, but I’d missed the physical intimacy we once shared, the passion, the desire between our two bodies.

  He watched my reaction, his eyes turning dark in the process, becoming hot like a fire that
just had another log thrown on. His fingers dug deeper into my hair as he moved in closer, his chest pressing to mine, his arm around my waist.

  When I opened my eyes again, his lips were nearly on mine, just inches away. My eyes flicked to his, seeing him looking at me the way he used to, like he lived for these moments when we were connected without words, when he felt the same sensation at the same time without having to express it.

  My arms circled around his neck and I pulled him into me, unable to wait for him to kiss me on his own, too anxious, too desperate. My lips landed on his, his mouth accepting mine like he’d been ready for it since the last time we kissed.

  I kissed him at a slow pace, breathing hard into his mouth, feeling all those sensations rush back instantly. I desired him even more than I had before, wanted all of him right then and there. My fingertips dug into his hair, wrapping around the short strands, my breaths turning into pants.

  His kiss matched mine, slow and purposeful, with the gentle exchange of tongue. For a man unable to connect with other people, he certainly knew how to kiss a woman. He was the best kisser I’d ever had, knew how to make it slow and sexy, how to make it quick and passionate.

  He pulled away, his breaths audible, and looked at me.

  I looked at him, seeing the hardness in his eyes, the way he looked at me possessively, like he wanted to bend me over so he could take me roughly. “Fuck.” He moved my back to the counter and kissed me again, this time harder, this time domineering. One hand grabbed my knee and lifted it so my ankle could hook over his waist, so he could grind his hard length against me, like there was any chance I couldn’t feel it before.

  My head tilted back, and my fingers loosened on his hair, letting him kiss my neck, bite at my collarbone, suck my skin until he left a bruise. He breathed into my ear as he fisted my hair, knowing I liked to hear his desirous pants.

  I was in my pencil skirt because I hadn’t changed since I got off work.

  He unzipped the back and let it come loose around to my feet, my blouse still covering my chest. He removed my panties, pushing them down far enough so gravity could do the rest. His sweatpants came next, falling to his feet along with his boxers.