MYSTIC FALLS 2017

Elena was exhausted. Not physically but mentally exhausted.

She walked into her bedroom and fell onto her bed. She didn't even bother to change.

She had no idea what she wanted right now.

No, that was not true. She had known since the moment she met him again.

She wanted Damon

She wanted him here beside her. She wanted him to hold and soothe her. But she couldn't have what she wanted, not only because of this ridiculous game that they were locked in, but because there was no future there.

Either way, she couldn't have Damon.

And that was why she was here on her bed by herself, her blanket wrapped tight around her, and her eyes closed in the hope that sleep might find her.

Elena.

She smiled, letting the sound of her name on his lips slid into her dreams. Elena felt the press of a hand on her shoulder, gentle but firm and she took a long, deep breath. These were the warm and soothing touch of that knight she so often imagined. She shifted, pulling the blanket up under her chin, wanting to go deeper into this place of safety that she felt so comfortable in sleep.

Elena. Baby, wake up.

She stirred, confused, and then opened her eyes to find Damon's blue eyes looking back at her, full of concern.

"There you are," he said gently.

"I—" Since Elena had no idea what she intended to say, she stopped talking. But she forced herself to sit up and peer at him and convinced herself that he was not a figment of her imagination. "You are here."

A tiny smile played across his lips. "Yes, I'm here now."

"Why?"

"To see you." He brushed his thumb over her cheek. "I need to see you."

Elena actually smiled, which felt pretty good. Then she pushed herself up, so that she was sitting instead of lying. "How did you get in?"

"Maria let me in."

"How did you get Maria to let you in?"

"I have my way." He had been kneeling beside her, but now he stood up. "You are better now?" he asked, and when she nodded, he stepped away from her bed.

Elena fought a sharp pang of panic as she turned to look at him, then sagged with relief when she saw that he wasn't leaving but getting something from the side table.

"I asked Maria to get you some coffee."

He handed a coffee mug to her, and then used his free hand to pull over a chair in the room.

He sat and leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. He looked completely casual and totally in control, and every ounce of his attention was focused on her.

"We are done, Elena," he said, and Elena jolted bolt upright.

"What? No! Dammit, Damon, you can't just quit. You can't—" She was starting to rise, but he took her arm and tugged her back down.

"Not the resort," he said calmly. "I will design a magnificent resort for you. But this," he said, gesturing between the two of them.

Elena shook her head, not understanding. Because surely after everything, Damon wasn't tossing away all of his demands and ultimatums.

Was he?

He stood and walked to the window. He stopped there, so that he was silhouetted against the now-grey sky. "I said this was about revenge, and it is. It was. I wanted to punish you for leaving me. For leaving me for him—for Matt, I thought—and god, how I wanted to punish you."

"But I didn't. Not like that. I told you."

"And I believe you. But that wasn't all of it. Because I still wanted to make you pay for hurting me. Hell, for hurting both of us," he said, and Elena couldn't help but winced, because what Damon said was true.

"But it wasn't all about punishment." He turned to look at her before taking a few steps towards her. "Do you need to hear it plainly? I will say it. I want you, Elena. As intensely as I wanted you ten years ago. And the moment I saw you in the theatre, I knew that I was willing to make any deal I had to in order to get you close."

His words were punctuated by each step he took towards her. "Did I want your submission? Did I want you naked and willing beneath me? Hell, yes. I still do. But that's not the whole of it. I want to make you feel. To make you laugh. I want to see that fire that burns in you. I want you to look at me the way you did ten years ago. And, Elena? I want you to stay with me."

Her chest was tight, and she was having a hard time breathing.

"But I want none of that if the cost is hurting you."

He reached down and cupped her chin in his hand, his expression so tender it made her heart squeezed. "So there will be no deal. No game. No conditions put on my agreement to work on the resort. I will still do my best to seduce you," he added with a tender smile. "But I can't be the one who brings you more pain."

Elena opened her mouth to speak, but she could not. She could only shake her head, wanting to deny what he had so obviously seen.

Damon took her hand, and although it was only their fingers that were touching, she still felt the thrill running through her. "Because I can't stand the idea of you hating me forever."

She looked away, unable to meet his eyes.

"I don't believe you have stopped caring. I don't know why you had decided to end things between us. You felt the pain as much as I did. And if I added to the weight of it, I am so damn sorry."

Elena looked at him now, her throat thick and her eyes burning. "You didn't," she said. "Not really. Oh, god." She drew in a breath and raised her hand to her mouth, then bit down on the soft flesh at the base of her thumb. "I didn't want to hurt you, Damon." she said, feeling almost like she was drowning in her own emotions.

"It is okay," he said, moving to sit beside her and gathering her in his arms. "I hurt you too."

Elena managed a half-laugh, then pressed close. "We are even then."

He pushed a lock of hair off her forehead, then slowly trailed his fingers down her shoulder to her back. "Can you tell me who?"

She blinked. "Who?"

"Was it your father?" He continued to stroke her hair. "He pulled out of the campaign not long after you ended our relationship."

She pulled free of his arms. "Please," she said, and she could hear the strain in her voice. "Can we just drop it? At least for now?"

His jaw tensed. "You can't or don't want to?"

"Damon, please," she said shakily.

After a brief silence, he nodded. "Fine." Then he knelt beside her and cupped her face. "You need rest. Come on. Lie down. Nobody should be up this early."

"No, I need to get to work." She sat up on the side of the rumpled bed. "I want to take a quick shower and change my clothes before I go back to work."

"You should sleep," he said.

She went to the closet to take down some clothes. "I have a busy schedule this morning."

"You need to rest." Damon moved towards her. "You need to sleep."

She had to fight the instinct to step back when he came to a halt directly in front her. But she couldn't because the closet was behind her. "I did manage to sleep last night. I'm not tired…"

Before Elena could finish her sentence, Damon took her hand and tugged her towards him.

"Damon…"

His mouth closed over her, his lips soft, yet demanding. But right now, no demand was required, and she surrendered eagerly, opening her mouth to him, welcoming him. Letting him fill her, taste her, consume her.

Desire flooded her veins.

She managed to tear her mouth free for an instant.

"Damon, this is so crazy."

"Tell me about it. No, on second thought, don't say a damn word." He covered her mouth again and tightened his hold on her.

She gave a small, half-choked exclamation, put her arms around his neck, and flung herself headfirst into the kiss.

Damon made a hoarse, half-strangled, extremely urgent sound and fell back onto the bed. He pulled her down on top of him. She sprawled across his chest and thighs. He caught her legs between his own.

She was shocked by the fierceness of his erection. She could feel the shape and size of him beneath the fabric of his trousers.

His fingers were at the nape of her neck. He found the zipper of her dress and dragged it the length of her spine all the way to where it ended at the small of her back. He slid his hand inside the opening. His palm was warm and heavy on her bare skin.

"You have a great back," he muttered. "A really terrific back."

"Damon," she whispered shakily. "Damon, please…"

"Please what?" he murmured against her throat. "Tell me what you want, princess."

I want you to love me, she thought.

She knew there was no future for the two of them. But right now she wanted him.

"Kiss me." She went to work on his shirt.

It took her a while to bare his chest, but once she had accomplished the task she could see that it had been well worth the effort.

"Nice." She splayed her fingers across his flat belly and bent her head to kiss his shoulder. He felt warm and powerful and utterly male beneath her hands. "Very, very nice."

"My turn."

He rolled her over onto her back and peeled down the black corset lace dress. The front clasp of her black lace bra came apart in his hands. He looked down at her breasts with an expression of stark wonder. Then he cupped her in his fingers and took a nipple very gently between his teeth.

A luscious, liquid heat pooled in her lower body. A deep, tight urgency assailed her. Elena closed her eyes as the exquisite sensations sizzled through her. Damon was the only one man who could make her feel like this, she thought.

She put a hand over her mouth to muffle a tiny shriek.

Damon paused. "Are you okay?"

"Yes." She could barely get the single word out between her lips. She reached up and clutched at him. Sank her fingers into his shoulders. "Yes."

"Glad to hear it." His laugh was low and husky, more of a groan. He eased her dress off and hurled it out of the way. "You had me worried there for a minute. I thought I have lost my skills to make you crazy."

"You will always drive me crazy." She sounded breathless. She could not help it. She was breathless. "It has been so long. I'm a little tense, I guess. I mean…"

"Yeah." He slid his warm hand slowly down over her stomach. "I know. It has been too long. Too damn long."

Damon put his hand inside the waistband of her black lace panties. She shivered when she felt his gently probing finger. Excitement flared in its place. She knew she was already soaking wet.

"This," Damon said in reverent tones, "is the most amazing thing that has happened to me in a very long time. You are definitely worth waiting for, Elena."

Elena buried her face against his shoulder. He stroked her until she was so desperate that she began to nip gently at the muscle in his arm.

He rolled to the side for a moment. When he rolled back he had his pants off. Her mouth went dry as she watched him sheath himself in a condom.

"I want you, Elena," he said, then moved on top of her. He started low, his lips on her hip, then kissed his way up her body, stopping at her breast to lick and tug and tease so much that the sensation shot through her, all the way to her clit, and she had to stop him for fear that she would come right then.

His erection was hard between her legs. She spread her thighs, wanting him to find her centre, and when he did, she tossed her head back and gasped. In that moment, he captured her with a kiss, and then thrust inside her.

Her body captured him, drew him in, and as his tongue thrust inside her mouth, his erection pounded into her, harder and harder as if every moment of the last ten years was hidden in each thrust.

This wasn't revenge sex. This was not make-up sex.

It was need and demand and lust and passion. It was them. And it finally felt right.

His touch—their connection—sent Elena spiralling up faster than she wanted, and yet at the same time she had no desire to hold back. She wanted the explosion. She wanted him. She wanted everything that they had shared and would share.

She wanted the world, and with Damon she did not think that was too much to ask.

And with that thought, she shattered, exploding like a billion pieces of coloured glass as he slid against her, filling her, touching her core—and then, oh yes, finding his own release inside her.

Elena did scream then. Damon sealed her mouth with his, trapping her cries in his own throat.

She returned the favour when he surged against her one last time, every muscle rigid.

She did not know how long they laid there, naked on the bed. She hadn't slept. She looked over at Damon. Naked. Semi-erect. He looked deeply satiated. And in that moment she could think only that he was perfection came to life.

"You are staring, princess."

She blushed and looked away. "Sorry."

He grinned. "Under," he said, lifting the covers. "You are cold."

She shook her head. "Nope. You wanted me warm, I think it is only fair that you warm me up, not pawn the job off on some blanket."

He chuckled. "Do you? Well, I'm all about fairness." With his eyes never leaving hers, he straddled her, and then he kissed her long and hard and deep.

"I think I like warming you up," he said as he sat up, kneeling over her waist so that his erection rested enticingly on her belly.

"I want to touch you."

His brow lifts, as if in surprised at her boldness. "Well, I do like the idea of you touching me," he said, as he reached down to stroke her skin in a lazy pattern. "But right now, I just want to bury myself in you."

"Oh," she said as he sweetly—so deliciously sweetly—eased inside her. Elena gasped in welcome and surprise, and then moved with him. Their movements were slow and sensual, but there was nothing gentle about her reaction. She was rising up, buoyed by a web of dancing sparks and wild colours. Damon was taking her to the edge, bringing her to the pinnacle. And as her body clenched tight around him, drawing him in deeper, silently begging him to take her further, she once again found release in the arms of this man she had always wanted, and so desperately missed.

x x x

Elena woke with a jolt, her heart pounding in defence against the lingering clutch of fear.

She reached out, groping for Damon, and as she did, she realized that she was so afraid that Damon had left.

"Now there is a lovely picture," he said, and his voice sent unexpected waves of relief coursing through her.

He hadn't left. He was still here.

Thank god, thank god, thank god.

She realized that she had been lying stretched across the bed, her hip and thigh uncovered. She sat up, pulling the sheet over her breasts for modesty, which was ridiculous considering how thoroughly Damon explored every inch of her. She leaned against the headboard and sighed in pleasure as she watched him moved towards her, barefoot and shirtless in only his trousers, the top button open to reveal just a hint of the hair that arrowed down towards a very enticing bulge.

Elena was enjoying the view so much that a full second passes before she realized that he was holding out a cup of coffee. She took it gratefully, and then smile when she realized there was already cream in it. "You remembered."

"I remember a lot of things." He gestured for her to slide over, and then got in beside her when she did. "For one thing, I remember that we are supposed to be at Richard Lockwood's house in one hour, and it is a fifteen-minute drive with no traffic."

"I have completely forgotten about it!"

"That's why I'm here to remind you, princess," he said, and then brushed his hand over her hair.

She sighed and leaned against him, amazed at how quickly things had shifted between them. This felt like it did ten years ago. It felt like they fitted.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Anything," he said.

"What's going on here?"

Damon raised his brows. "What do you mean?"

"Damon," she said nervously, "I hurt you and you hate me for that. But what happened between us just now…"

"What happened between us just now was mutual," he reminded her. "I can feel how badly you want me. And you can feel how much I want you."

"I want us both to be sure that we know what we are doing."

"Does that mean you don't know what you are doing? Or that you don't think I know what I'm doing?"

"I came to see you because I want your help. I never intend to get involved in a relationship."

Damon's jaw tightened. "Do you know why I came after you this morning? Because I care about you. I care about us."

She shook her head. "But I have hurt you."

"I should have stayed away," he said, moving away from her to stand up. He moved to the far wall and the window that now glowed with the light of morning. "The truth is I haven't forgotten about you all these years, Elena. I still care." He turned to face her. "I was pissed off all these years because you had gone back to him."

"Dammit, Damon. I was never with Matt since I broke up with him. If you don't believe me…"

"I do. You told me earlier, and I do. I believe you. But back then I thought otherwise."

Elena considered what he said as she slid out of the bed and walked naked to him. "Was that the reason you left Mystic Falls? You thought I was with Matt?"

"Partly, but there was more to it than that."

"I don't understand."

"You know what? It doesn't matter." He let his gaze drifted slowly over her, so that the heat from his inspection seemed to touch every part of her body, firing every molecule and making her forget just what the hell they were talking about, anyway. "I'm about to invite you into the shower with me. Which means that the last thing I want to be discussing is Matt Donovan."

"I feel that we both need to give ourselves a chance to evaluate the future direction of this relationship."

He stilled. "What the hell does that mean?"

"In simple terms?"

"Yeah, I do best with simple terms."

"I want some time to think about what is going on here. I believe that you should do some thinking about it, too."

"Do you what your problem is, Elena?"

"What?"

"Maybe your mistake was in looking too far ahead," he said softly. "Maybe we should both stop obsessing on the long term and focus more on the short term."

She swallowed. "How short a term are we talking about here?"

"Let's start with now." He pulled her into his arms. "We will reassess matters after our shower."

She stiffened. "I can't handle a casual, unemotional affair with you."

"There you go, trying to think too far ahead again."

"Goading me will not work," she said. "I do not respond to taunts or dares."

"Of course not. You are a Gilbert," he said as he led her to the bathroom.

He had turned on the shower before he made the coffee, and when they went into her bathroom, it was already warm and cosy and steamy, just the way Elena liked it.

Damon stripped off his trousers and she followed him in, then pressed close as his arms went around her, letting the sluice of water drenched her hair and ran over her face and body.

She tilted her head back and closed her eyes, and that was when she felt his lips brushed hers.

"Give whatever we have got going for us another chance, okay?" he said, and then captured her mouth with his as one of his hands slid down to stroke her sex.

Elena was wet and ready, and all she could manage was a simple word, "yes."

His hands closed over her breasts as he moved her back so that she was pressed against the tile. Then he lifted one of her legs so that her calf was over his hip, and she was opened to him. She did not want to wait. She reached for him, and then stroke her hand down the length of his erection, taking satisfaction in the way his expression went hard, as if he was on the edge of something spectacular. Because he was—and because she was the one who was taking him there.

"Now," Elena said, urging him closer, demanding he filled her, then crying out in surprise and pleasure when he found her core and thrust inside her.

"Faster, Damon. Harder." She was crazed with need of him, and when he held on to her ass so that he could thrust more deeply, she hooked her other leg around him, then gasped again and again as with each thrust she was slammed up against the warm tile wall.

Until finally, she felt his body tightened and he exploded inside her, and it was her name that Elena heard on his lips.

"Come on," she said when his eyes were no longer glassy. "We need to get going."

"Not just yet," he said, reaching for the handheld shower and turning it to a steady pulse. "I don't think you are quite ready yet."

"Damon…" She was too ready, too sensitive, and she was not at all sure that she could handle what he had in mind. When he pulled out of her and she settled one foot back on the shower mat, he kept hold of her other leg, then aimed the pulsating jet at her clit.

"Oh, god, oh, Christ, oh, Damon."

Elena clutched his shoulders, her body shaking with a growing pleasure that was almost too much to bear.

"If we are in a hurry, I can stop." His lips were right by her ear, and he highlighted the words by tracing his tongue along the edge of her ear, making her even more crazy. "Is that what you want?"

"Don't you dare," Elena said. "But, Damon, oh, please, I'm so damn close."

"Then let's see what I can do." He put the handheld back, then dropped to his knees. With one of her legs over his shoulder, he closed his mouth intimately on her, and it was that combination of his tongue, his lips, his touch that pulled her that final distance. Her body shattered as a million volts poured through her, ripping her apart so that she was nothing more than atoms spinning in space. Nothing more than heat and desire lost in the arms of this man.

"Wow," she said. "I don't even care if we are late."

"Convenient," he said. "Because neither do I. Still, Richard Lockwood is one of the investors. We should probably make an effort."

Elena nodded, and then reached for a towel once Damon had turned off the shower. Outside the glass enclosure, she dropped the towel in favour of her robe before wrapping the robe tight around her.

Damon was a few feet away, a towel wrapped around his hips as he ran his fingers through his hair. She couldn't help the way her gaze darted to his knuckles.

He saw and flashed a rueful grin. "I turned anger into fights."

"Damon…"

The corner of his mouth quirked up. "I promise you I'm not accosting random tourists on the street. I belong to a gym. There is a boxing club. And no, I'm not talking about the kind of gym that has a smoothie bar and twenty-eight elliptical machines. Heavy bags, speed bags, free weights."

She pictured the kind of dirty, grimy gym seen in so many movies, where guys were getting their faces smashed in. It was not a picture she liked. She grimaced. "I don't want you to get hurt."

"Oh, baby. They can't hurt me. Don't you know that you are the only one who's ever managed to tear me to shreds?"

She winced. "Sorry."

He glanced at her. "Would you have gone to bed with him?" he asked.

"Who?"

"That man you met the other night at Destiny."

Elena thought about how lost she had felt. How turned on she had been by the way Damon had touched her, kissed her. And how angry she would have been when he had offered that deal. "I don't know," she whispered. She gathered her courage, then lifted her head and met his eyes. "You mess me up, Damon. No one has ever messed me up the way you do."

"Baby," he said, "I know the feeling." Gently, he pulled her against him, and then held her close. He was hard, and she felt the press of his erection against her, but this moment wasn't sexual. Instead, it was tender, and she clung to him, feeling cherished for the first time in a long time.

Ten years? Forever?

For Elena, she realized, they were the same.

"I want to make love to you right now," Damon said. "I want to hold you and sink deep inside you and make up for ten long years without you, when you should have been in my bed," he said, as her body warmed and tingled under the gentle caress of his words. "I want to touch you and please you. I want to hold you and caress you and make you laugh and come and hope and dream. I want to watch your eyes when you soar with me. And then I want to hold you while you sleep."

She swallowed. "I really don't think that's a good idea, Damon."

"I know. Now we need to get dressed. If we don't hurry, we really will be late."

He ran his fingers through his hair once more, and then relinquished the bathroom so that she could do her hair and makeup.

Elena hurried, but it still took her twenty minutes. Her hair was long and she had decided to dry it and let it down. As for her makeup, she had never worn a lot, but even her minimal face routine took time. Finally, she had to find something to wear. In the end she had decided to go for a denim shirtdress.

When she was finally dressed with shoes and jewellery, she stepped out into the living room to find Damon fully dressed in the clothes he wore when he arrived this morning. He smelled clean, all soap and shampoo and male. And he looked positively gorgeous, tall and lean and sexy as he stood by the window and looked out at the bright, crisp afternoon.

"How the hell do men do that?" she asked, as he turned to look at her. "Just five lousy seconds in the bathroom and you look hot as sin."

"And just how hot is sin?"

"Very."

"In that case, thank you for the compliment. And even though you took longer than five minutes, I have to say that it was worth every second. You look incredible."

"Thank you."

He crossed to her, and kissed her lightly. "There is someplace I want to show you on the way."

"Where?"

He grinned. "Be patient, princess. I will tell you when we are there."

x x x

Elena had driven from her house to the Lockwood mansion more times than she could count, and yet in Damon's Camaro it felt as though this was the very first time.

"Nice ride," she said, her head back in the seat and her eyes closed. "You haven't changed, have you?" She opened her eyes long enough to grin at him. "You have a thing for Camaro."

"Camaro is a classic," he retorted, making her laugh. "I bought her from a collector as a present to myself when I turned thirty a few years back."

"What did you want to show me on the way?" she asked.

"You will just have to wait and see."

"Fair enough." She leaned herd head back and breathed deeply, and realized that for the first time in a very long time she felt completely contented. "You know we need to talk about the resort."

"I want to see the lake first. Then you can tell me your basic concept."

"And Wes Maxfield's sketches."

"Not interested," he said, and she bit back a smile. She had been expecting that answer.

"You still need to look," she said. "The investors might want your thoughts."

Elena expected another protest, but then he nodded. "But not before I see the lake. I don't want anyone else's vision in my head when I see the raw space. Certainly not Maxfield's."

She shot him an annoyed glance. "You don't like Wes, do you?"

"He is arrogant, for one thing," Damon says.

"So are you."

The words were undeniably true, but he only smiled. "Maybe." He ran his fingers through his hair. "Sorry. I just don't want his ideas in my head when I do my initial walk-through of the site."

"Okay." That much she understood. "Okay. Why don't we go tomorrow morning? I will call Bonnie and have her notify security we will be there, and then get her to get us a SUV."

"Tell her we will there," Damon said. "But we don't need the SUV."

"We don't? Why not?"

"What? Don't you think I can handle transportation?"

Elena narrowed her eyes. "The roads in Dunham Lake are pretty bad. You need a SUV to travel in that place. I sincerely doubt that this car turns into a SUV, for that matter."

"Do you trust me?" He asked the question casually, almost teasingly, but she thought she heard an undercurrent of something else. As if they had veered off the topic of transportation and onto something much more serious.

"Yes," she said, and realized that she meant it. Trust, however, was an elastic thing. And she was not entirely sure how far hers stretched.

Elena thought that Damon was going to say something more, but before he got the chance, her phone rang. She grabbed her purse off the floorboard, rummaged around, and answered the call.

"Are you busy?" Caroline asked.

"On our way to Lockwood mansion for lunch," she said.

"Our way," Caroline repeated. "So how did it go?"

"It is going just fine." She glanced sideways at Damon, who looked both curious and amused.

"Fine? Really?"

She couldn't help her laugh. "Yeah, really. Who would have guessed?"

"How very interesting," Caroline said with a singsong lilt to her voice. "I'm glad it is going fine, Elena. I will talk to you later."

She clicked off before Elena could respond, and she tucked her phone back into her purse.

"Who's that?" Damon asked.

"Caroline."

He rolled his eyes. "Blondie. What did she want?"

She shrugged casually. "Nothing. Just checking on me."

"Checking on you? Does she think you will be in danger?"

Elena laughed. "She is my best friend. Sometimes she is a little overprotective of me. But I know her intention is good."

"I know she is your best friend." He took his hand off the gear shift and squeezed hers. "I don't know what you told her, but I can guess. And I doubt that I'm high up on her favourite-person list."

"True," she said. "I guess you will just have to treat me really great to earn her respect and admiration."

She was teasing, but there was no humour in his eyes when his eyes met hers. "You should know that I don't really care what others think about me."

"Right."

They sat in silence for a moment.

"We both screwed this whole thing up," Damon said eventually. "And now I'm trying to fix it."

Give whatever we have got going for us another chance, okay?

She didn't say anything but thought about his words.

"I didn't know why you pushed me away ten years ago," he continued. "That's why it hurts and that is why you pissed me off so goddamn much when you came back into my life. Not because you wanted me, but because you wanted what I do."

"I never didn't want you." Her words were a whisper, but she knew that he could hear them.

"I know. I get it."

"I'm sorry for hurting you, Damon. I really am."

"Tell me, Elena." His voice was gentle. "Tell me. Have you been with another guy since I left?"

"I haven't been involved in any serious relationships if this is what you mean." Elena rubbed her palms over her face, feeling weirdly embarrassed. "After you left Mystic Falls, well, I'd—god, it sounds stupid. But I'd follow you."

"Follow me?"

"Well, not in person. But your buildings. Your career. Everything," she added, thinking of the bits and pieces of gossip about the women in his personal life that she had seen over the last ten years.

"Why?"

It was a good question, and one Elena was not entirely sure she had an answer to. As far as she was concerned, a dozen shrinks would give a dozen explanations. "I don't really know. Maybe guilt. And then when I realized that I needed you for the resort…"

She trailed off with a shake of her head and sucked in air. "It was like the gods were trying to play a big joke on me, you know? Because I didn't know how to face you."

"And I went and made it worse for you. I'm sorry."

"No. Maybe. A little." Elena shrugged. "The truth is, we made it worse for each other."

"But now we will make it better." He reached over and took her hand. "I promise we will make it better."

She didn't answer him. Could they have a future together? She wasn't sure.

Damon must have recognized her shift in mood, because he turned in his seat to frown at her. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." She lied. "You have dated a lot of women. Rose Amber, for example. You were even with her at the premiere. It is all over the press that you are dating her."

"Dating her? No. But I was sleeping with her. I'm not anymore."

"I see."

"Actually, I don't think you do. I have slept with a lot of women, Elena. Before we were together and after I left."

"And now you are sleeping with me." Elena heard both hurt and jealousy in her voice. And it pissed her off.

"No." His voice was hard. Firm. "None of them are like you."

"Why not?"

He took her hand and lifted it to his lips for a gentle kiss. "Because you matter to me. And I didn't have anything to prove to them."

The words warmed her, even though she didn't entirely understand them.

"What do you have to prove to me?"

His grin was wide. "I guess you will know once I prove it."

Elena shook her head, amused. "How much longer until we get to what you want to show me?"

"Not much farther."

"And no clues?"

"Not even one," he said.

"Fine. In that case, I will continue to harass you about old girlfriends."

"Oh, joy."

Elena smirked. "Actually, it is more about the movie, but talking about Rose Amber reminded me. Someone says she is hoping to get a starring role, and that is why she cozied up to you."

"I wouldn't be at all surprised." Damon's voice was tight. "But considering I don't want to see the movie made at all, her plan is doomed to failure."

"Is it true you punched out the screenwriter?"

Elena saw his hands tightened on the steering wheel. "Please tell me you didn't read that in the gossip rags."

"No, I heard it from…from someone. Said it was very hush-hush."

"Good. I paid a lot of money to keep it hush-hush."

"You really did punch the guy." Elena was oddly fascinated by this. "I thought you were all about boxing clubs and not smacking down innocent people."

"Trust me," he said darkly. "That asshole was not innocent."

She decided not to press that point, but she couldn't stop thinking about the movie in general.

"What?" he said after they had driven about five minutes in absolute silence.

"I didn't say anything."

"No, but your thoughts are deafening."

"I just don't get it," Elena admitted. "That house is spectacular, and it is what put your career on the map. I know there was a tragedy there, but that was long after the house was completed and you were in Vegas working on the Union Bank building. So why does the thought of a movie bother you so much?"

"Because it is private." She heard the sharp edge to his voice and winced a bit. He noticed, and she watched as his shoulders sagged. "Sorry. But the whole project is surrounded by tragedy, and the damn producer who is interested in the film is sticking his nose in where it doesn't need to be. It is personal. It is private. And there are real people with real lives who are going to get hurt if the damn thing gets made."

Elena still didn't understand, but she was not going to push. It was clear enough to her that Damon hadn't told her the entire story. But considering she was hanging on tight to secrets of her own, she could hardly bitch too loudly.

She reached over and brushed her hand over his shoulder. "I may not understand why, but I get that it is important to you. And I hope you get the movie shut down, too."

His smile was one of thanks and acknowledgment. "Speaking of movies, Michael is hosting a fund-raiser at his house Friday night. For the National Historic and Architectural Conservation Project. It is a good cause, and he is a good guy. Will you go with me?"

"Of course." Elena wriggled a little in her seat. Considering everything they had now been through together, it was probably silly. But the thought of going on a proper date with Damon made her undeniably happy.

It was only then that she noticed that he had slowed to make a right turn. She glanced around, and then looked to him in question. "The Destiny?"

"You will see."

A short time later Damon stopped at the curb in front of a brick building. She glanced around, confused, and was about to ask Damon, but he was already getting out of the car. She did as well, and then followed him into the secured entrance. She waited while he punched in the code.

They went up the stairs to the fifth -floor loft in silence. Damon opened the door and groped for the switches on the wall to the right. He flipped two of the six, turning on some of the lights but not all, leaving large sections of the loft in shadow.

Elena surveyed the interior.

"Welcome to DS Design." He watched her prowl slowly forward, watching the sketches and diagrams. "This is where I work."

"This is amazing," she said as she looked at one of the drawings of the drawing boards.

"It was," he said. "I bought this place ten years ago. Just a few months before we were together."

"You…" She turned, something in his voice halting her words. "You left Mystic Falls not long after."

"Yes. We were only together for three months and I left after…after you asked me to leave you alone. I have moved DS Design to Los Angeles since then."

She said nothing, just watched him steadily.

"It is not a trick question and there is no hidden meaning. But I wanted to show you this place because I think it is special. This is the place where I can shape the world the way I see fit."

Elena didn't ask why he became an architect. She didn't need to. She could tell simply by watching him that he was doing exactly what he had been born to do. Even something as simple as his confident precision when he handled the Camaro proved that he embodied everything she admired. He was a man who didn't shrink from the world, but walked proudly within it, both capable and eager to reshape it in accordance with his own unique vision.

Had she seen that quality in him from the first moment? She must have, because why else would nothing more than a look from him had brought her to her knees?

"Some people could look at the sketch and not see anything other than a drawing. But you see everything." She waved a hand at the sketches and diagrams that filled the studio. "You have the talent to bring the drawing to life."

"I spent a lot of the first decade of my life in an artist's studio. Guess you pick up a few things when you are surrounded by the stuff during your impressionable years."

"Yes, of course. I heard your mother is an artist." She looked at him. Guilt and dismay shot through her. "I'm sorry, Damon. I know you must have put in a lot of effort in this place. But you had to leave everything behind because of me."

He was silent for a moment.

"Forget it," he said finally. "I don't want you to feel sorry for me."

He cupped her face in his hands, then bent low and brushed his lips gently over hers.

Elena didn't think. She didn't hesitate. She simply eased forward, rising on her toes to bring herself closer. To claim. And, yes, to surrender.

Damon didn't wait for her lips to reach his. She saw the change in his eyes—the moment when gentleness was pushed aside in favour of lust and need and the hard, demanding ache that throbbed between them. His hands shifted, one sliding into her hair and cupping the back of her head. The other snaking around her waist.

He pulled her close, his mouth opened to hers, his hips hard against her. She felt his erection straining against his trousers, and her body thrummed in response, her skin prickling and her sex hot and heavy and desperate for his touch. She felt his palm cupped her ass and pulled her in tighter even as his mouth warred with hers, his tongue finding and tasting her, thrusting and demanding. Taking everything she had to give and more.

When he finally pulled away from her, Elena wanted nothing more in that moment than to weep with regret.

"Tell me," he said, as his fingers slid through her hair. "Tell me why you look like a rabbit about to bolt."

Elena hesitated, but answered honestly. "You scare me."

He shook his head. "I don't think so. No, I think it is because I don't scare you." His eyes narrowed. "You are an enigma, Elena Gilbert. I think that is why I want you."

"We have something, Elena," he continued. "And it is not because I scare you."

She licked her lips nervously but said nothing.

"This," he said, gesturing between the two of them. "I know you feel it as palpably as I do. Please don't deny it." He moved closer. "Sweetheart, you need to trust it."

She wanted to. She had always wanted to. But…

She tilted her head back so she was looking right into his eyes. "What if I can't?"

"Then I will just have to convince you." He drew her close and kissed her again, this time slow and sweet, but it still set her head to spinning.

When he broke the kiss, he stepped back, and Elena felt her body moved with him, unwilling to let the distance between them increase.

"Come on," he said easily. "We have to go now. If we don't hurry, we will definitely be late."