For the third time in an hour, Damon's intercom buzzed on his desk, interrupting a loud and heated debate among his executives. Angry at the continued interruptions, he glanced apologetically at the men and reached for the intercom button as he explained, "Bree's sister is ill, and she is in Georgia. Go on with your conversation," he added as he pressed the button and snapped at the secretary who was filling in for Bree, "I told you to hold my calls!"

"Yes, sir, I…I know…" Jessica's voice came over the speaker phone—"but Mr Phil Carter from Salvatore Industries said it is extremely important, and he insisted I interrupt you."

"Take a message," Damon snapped. He started to release the button, and then he stopped. "Who did you say was calling?"

"Phil Carter from Salvatore Industries," the secretary emphasized meaningfully, her tone telling him that she, too, had read of the news of Salvatore Industries' financial crisis. So, obviously, had the men seated in a semicircle around his desk, for the announcement of Phil Carter's name caused a pulse beat of stunned silence followed instantly by an explosion of nervous, heightened conversation meant to cover the previous silence.

"I'm in the middle of a meeting," Damon said curtly. "Tell him to call me back in fifteen minutes." He put the phone down, knowing that courtesy dictated that he should have volunteered to call Phil back. He didn't really give a damn; they had nothing left to say to each other. Forcing himself to concentrate on business, he looked at Enzo, and continued the conversation that Phil's call had interrupted. "There won't be any zoning problem in Southville. We have a contact on the zoning commission who has assured us that the county and the city of Southville are both eager to have us build the factory there. We'll have approval from them on Wednesday, when they meet to vote…"

Ten minutes later he ushered the men out of his office, closed the door, and sat down behind his desk again. When Phil Carter hadn't called after thirty minutes, he leaned back in his leather chair and glowered at the silent telephone, his hostility growing with every passing moment. How like Phil Carter, he thought, to call him for the first time in more than a decade, then insist that his secretary interrupt him in the middle of a meeting, and when he didn't take the call, to then make him sit and wait. Phil Carter had worked at the Salvatore Industries for more than twenty years and he was an important figure in the company. Zach Salvatore trusted him and treated him as an important asset. Phil Carter was loyal as well and there wasn't enough money in the world to buy off a man like him.

Drumming his fingernails on his desk, Zach leaned back in his chair, angrily watching the clock, deliberately waiting forty-five minutes before asking Phil calling Damon again. How like that arrogant, swaggering braggart to make Phil call him back! Zach thought wrathfully. Obviously he hadn't acquired any manners along with his wealth, or he'd know that since Phil had courteously taken the first step in contacting him, it was his duty to take the next step. Of course, good manners would never mean anything to Damon Salvatore. Beneath his newly acquired veneer of urbanity, he was still crude and ambitious, just like Giuseppe before Lillian passed away.

"I think we should call him now," Phil said as he glanced at his wristwatch. It was 10:45 a.m.

Zach nodded and Phil reached for the telephone.

Damon jumped at the buzz of his intercom. "Mr Phil Carter is on the line," Jessica said.

He picked up the phone. "Mr Carter?" he said, his voice cupped, impatient, "this is an unexpected surprise."

"I don't think business is considered an unexpected surprise," Phil replied calmly.

"What do you want?" Damon asked, frowning. "What does Zach want?"

"Your grandfather was the founder of Salvatore Industries and he had worked very hard to build this company…"

"I know about the history of Salvatore Industries," Damon interrupted. "Stop beating around the bush, Phil." His jaw tightened and his tone hardened. "What does Zach want?"

"We want to talk to you…in person."

"About the land in Mystic Falls? I told Zach if he wants the land so badly, he has to buy it. But he had declined my offer," he reminded Phil icily. "Why this sudden change of heart?"

"It is not only about that land in Mystic Falls. It is about Salvatore Industries. The future of Salvatore Industries."

Phil's words about the future of Salvatore Industries jolted him, and he hesitated a full five seconds, then he said abruptly, "I'm not part of Salvatore Industries. Has Zach forgotten that he had taken everything from my father?"

There was a short paused at the other end.

"There is a charity ball in LA organised by Duncan Walker next weekend. Will you be there?" Phil asked.

Duncan Walker is one of the top bankers in the country. Damon had met him on a few occasions. He knew Sarah was in a relationship with Duncan's son Brian.

Damon glanced down at his desk calendar which was covered with meetings and appointments scheduled for the whole of January. "I think I can spare some time to attend the ball next weekend."

"Perfect," Phil answered instantly. "We shall talk next weekend."

x x x

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Logan asked as Elena opened the door on her side.

"Matt hates Damon but he won't tell me the reason. Pete Donovan is probably the only one outside of Matt who knows the real answer to that."

"Pete was drunk the one time he brought it up with me, but I got the feeling that somehow Vicky was involved in it."

"Vicky?"

"He wasn't making sense, so I'm not sure."

"Well, I intend to find out from Pete Donovan."

"Okay, I will go with you." Logan walked to the gate and leaned on a button.

Elena bit her lip, considering whether Logan would be an asset or a liability. "I think I might get further with Pete if I am alone."

"But Elena…"

"Why don't you wait inside the car?"

Pete was in the living room, sitting in a leather wing chair reading the newspaper when Kelly took Elena in to see him. "Elena would like to talk to you, Pete."

Pete looked round from his chair and nodded; then he put the newspaper down onto the coffee table. "Hello," he said, beckoning to the sofa across from him. "Sit down."

Elena drew a careful breath, knowing this would be her only chance to find out what she needed to know and to try to neutralize it. "I wonder if I could talk to you privately, Pete."

"Of course," Kelly said and backed out of the living room.

"Certainly, my dear," Pete said. He looked at her in expectant silence.

"You know Matt and I grow up together," she began quietly. "I like him a lot. He is a good friend and I have always thought of him as a brother."

"Matt likes you a lot too and he treats you as his sister."

"That's why I need to know why Matt hates Damon so much."

His jaw tightened. "In that case, I will give you the best advice I have ever given you. Stay out of this!"

"I won't do that."

He surged to his feet, towering over her until Elena stood up, too. "Stay out of this, Elena. Stay away from Damon Salvatore. He isn't what you think he is. He is an animal!"

"Why?" Elena cried. "What has Damon done to you to make you hate him?" With an effort she forced herself to sound willing instead of combative. "Help me understand—then I can decide whether to do as you say."

The control Pete had been exerting over his temper suddenly snapped. "You want to know what he did to me?" he jeered in an awful voice. "I will tell you what he did—He destroyed my family! That filthy son of a bitch was the real stud in my cafe. God knows how many others of Vicky's little friends he cheated…"

"Cheated?" Elena said weakly.

He grabbed her shoulders. "You wanted to know and now you are going to know all of it. Do you remember my beautiful little daughter? Do you?" he demanded with a shake.

Elena jerked free and stepped back, but she couldn't make herself leave without hearing it all. "Of—of course I remember," she said shakily.

"That animal got my little girl pregnant. I almost walked in on them at the Grill one night, and I ran him off. He seduced my little daughter to get her into his bed!"

Elena shook her head. "Oh, no, Pete, you are wrong..."

"I'm not wrong!" he shouted. "I'm the one who has been wronged. When Vicky realized she was pregnant—almost three months pregnant—she told her mother and Kelly took her to have an abortion."

Elena swallowed but said nothing.

"I found out because Vicky almost died from the bleeding!"

Her face paled. "Oh, Pete…"

"I nearly lost my daughter because of that son of a bitch!" Pete said gruffly. "If you have any common sense, you should stay away from him. He is a monster!"

Back in the car, Logan glanced at Elena.

"What did Pete say to you, honey?" he asked.

Elena looked at him. "He said Damon cheated Vicky and got her pregnant. And Vicky nearly died from the abortion because of bleeding."

"What?"

Elena shook her head. "I don't believe him."

"Honey," Logan sighed. "I know you love Damon, but…"

It happened then, the thing that Elena had subconsciously feared for hours—she started to laugh and she couldn't stop. "Damon wouldn't have laid a hand on Vicky! He lived in daily fear of the girls coming on to him. I remember how hard the girls had to work to get him to notice them."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Damon had a girlfriend when he was in Whitmore. He didn't seduce other girls to get them into his bed. He didn't have time because he worked so damn hard to support Stefan and himself."

"Elena, Damon had a girlfriend doesn't mean that he didn't make a move on Vicky."

"It is so funny…so hideously funny."

"Is it? Funny?" Logan said, but he was beginning to believe Elena was thinking far more clearly than he had first imagined when he saw her got inside the car.

"Yes, it is!" Elena said, nodding her head. "It is hilarious. I know, because I saw Vicky and him making out at the back of her car."

"Him? Who? Damon?"

"Marko White."

"Marko White? The wild and crazy kid who lived in the trailer just out of town?"

"Yes! Marko White!" she laughed. "I saw the two of them making out at the back of her car that night of the Back to School Party. Caroline and I had seen the two of them kissing outside the school library as well."

"You are saying it was Marko who got Vicky pregnant?"

"Damon hadn't laid a hand on Vicky! He hadn't and he wouldn't."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm going back to Los Angeles."

Elena was definitely going back to Los Angeles. She had to see Damon. With Jenna and her husband helplessly standing by, she stuffed the clothes she had at the house into the suitcase she owned; then she threw all her toiletries in on top of them. "That's that," she said, closing the luggage. After that she phoned the airline and rescheduled her flight.

She turned to Jenna and said, "I'm sorry I have to leave early."

"What if Damon doesn't want to see you anymore?" Jenna asked.

"He will see me," Elena said as she dragged the heavy case off her bed, "I will convince him to see me."

x x x

The man who answered the intercom and looked at her through a tiny camera located at the gate of the Century was surprisingly easy to convince that Mr Damon Salvatore's fiancée should be allowed to surprise her fiancé by being admitted without advance notice. In fact, the middle-aged man was positively beaming with delight as he showed her through the elevator that brought her to Damon's penthouse directly.

Looking in the mirror, Damon tied his black tuxedo tie with the same cold efficiency with which he had done everything else the past five days. Not long ago he had dreamed of Elena sleeping next to him, but no more. Not now. He wouldn't allow himself to think about her, or to remember her, or to feel anything.

Last week, Elena loved him and believed in him.

Once she found out from Matt Donovan, she was going to despise him.

He had tried to think of a way to keep her. But he couldn't. Maybe she wasn't for him to keep. When he realised this could be case, the unfamiliar constriction in his throat grew until it was painful. Sending her away that day was the most difficult task he had ever done in his life.

Now he had torn her out of his mind and heart, permanently this time, and he wanted to keep her out.

When Elena arrived at the penthouse, she opened the door and silently slipped inside, watching him, and trying to think where to begin when all she wanted to do was fling herself into his arms. She had rehearsed a dozen opening speeches on the flight there, all of them designed to let her stay and face his trouble together with him. She had thought of pleading, of reasoning, of demanding. She had considered trying tears to weaken his resistance. But when the moment was finally upon her, she couldn't seem to begin as she watched him put on his tuxedo jacket.

She took a step forward and saw him stiffen when he saw her reflection on the mirror. "Damon?"

He didn't even turn his head or look at her. "What are you doing here?"

That hurt, but at least he was waiting for her to speak, and her instincts told her he wasn't completely indifferent to her. She smiled a little, dying to surrender, not certain how to do it "I came here to see you." Her voice shook with nerves and she knew he heard it, but he didn't say a word, encouraging or otherwise.

Summoning her courage, Elena drew a deep breath and forged ahead. "I came here to tell you that I'm still mad at you."

He turned to face her. "You what?!"

"I'm still mad at you, Damon."

He didn't say a word, and her heart was sinking when she suddenly saw it—the amused gleam in his beautiful eyes, the faint quirk of a smile dawning at his lips. "You are the damnedest man I have ever met," she continued as hope burst in her like sunshine, "half the time I don't know whether to slap you or kiss you."

Chuckling, he held out his hand for hers.

Tears of joy and relief sprang to her eyes as she laid her hand in his palm, feeling his fingers engulf hers in their warm strength, closing tightly on her hand, and then abruptly yanking her forward into arms that wrapped around her like steel bands, while he buried his lips in hers. When he finally ended the kiss, he kept her crushed against his length, his jaw resting against her head, as if he were afraid to let her go for fear she would vanish. Content to stay there, she rubbed her cheek against his hard chest. "I love you."

His hand slid up her back in a caress, and he brushed a kiss against her temple. "I know you do. The proof is in my arms."

"I know why Matt hates you. Pete Donovan told me."

He froze. "He told you what?"

"I went to see him last night. He told me you got Vicky pregnant and she had to have an abortion. She nearly died from the abortion."

"He told you all that," Damon said, leaning back and studying her with puzzlement and disbelief, "and you came here, to me?"

She smiled at him in the moonlight and nodded; then she cuddled closer in his arms again. "I know it isn't true."

"Because you believe in me?" he speculated, confused.

"Yes. And because back then I saw Vicky and Marko White together. You hadn't laid a hand on her. You wouldn't."

With a smile in his voice, he whispered, "I love you, Elena."

She opened his shirt button and pressed a playful kiss on his chest. "But I'm still mad at you. You shouldn't have pushed me away."

"The madder you get, the better you look. Put that energy to good use and kiss me like you mean it."

She did. For one thing, she couldn't resist meeting the challenge in his eyes. For the other, she was dying to gobble him up. She threw her arms round his neck and arched her body into his.

Keeping their mouths cemented, he climbed into his bed, dragging Elena with him.

"Damn, Elena, I got to breathe sometime," he said, finally tearing his lips free.

"You said for me to kiss you like I meant it. I only did as I was told."

"You are unbelievable, sweetie." Grinning, he whisked his thumb over her moist lips. "Unbelievable and amazing."

"If you push me away again, I promise I will kill you with my bare hands."

Chuckling, he parted her faded Levi's jacket and lowered his head to nuzzle her breasts. She tugged his shirttail from his waistband far enough to get her hands underneath it and onto his bare skin.

His lips caressed her breasts through the weave of her sweater. Breathlessly she said, "I could kill you for doing this to me."

"What, this?" He rubbed his open mouth over her nipples.

"No," she sighed raggedly, "for making me want you when I can't have you."

He continued kissing her through her sweater while he unfastened her jeans. He pulled down the zipper and slid his hand inside. "You will always have me."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

"I know you have had lots of women. You have left them by the dozens. But Elena Gilbert is going to be the one you find hard to leave and even harder to forget."

Damon smiled at her. "You are right about that. You are going to be hell to leave and impossible to forget."

He removed her sweater, and it dropped to the floor. Her bra followed. He slung off his shirt, and then he had his belt and trousers undone. A few seconds later, he was free of everything.

Then his eyes turned dark. Because she had touched him. At first just a few tentative brushes with her fingers, to indulge her curiosity about the various textures, but, encouraged by his unsteady breathing and that smokiness in his eyes, she took him in her hand. Guided by his gruff whispers, and instinct, she pumped him until he grew incredibly tight. Hot breaths struck her hair as he bent his head over hers and groaned her name.

A drop of moisture leaked from the tip. She took it on her thumb, sucked it off, and pressed her thumb against the centre of her lower lip, which he had told her was sexy. Raspily, he said, "You are driving me crazy," then covered her mouth in a fierce kiss that left her mindless. He bent over her and kissed her belly as he peeled off her panties.

She didn't know until later what had happened to them. They disappeared while she was held in thrall of the trail of kisses that brought his mouth to where she pulsed with need, in thrall of his cheeks against her thighs, in thrall of what he was doing with his lips, his tongue, with his gliding fingers, with his rumbled words of adoration and coarse carnality that she had never found to be a turn-on until now.

In thrall of Damon Salvatore loving her.

"Are you back?" he whispered.

Her eyes opened partially. "Hmm."

"You sure?" It took all his willpower only to nudge her, not penetrate. But, damn, it was tough to hold back.

Her eyes came fully open. "Yes. I'm back."

He gave her a wicked grin. "Have fun?"

She blushed.

"Have fun?" He nudged her again, only this time pushing into her until the head of his cock was snug inside.

"Yes," she gasped.

"I'm glad." He rubbed his lips across her cheekbone.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"The pleasure was mine."

"Really?"

All teasing aside, he angled his head back and looked into her beautiful brown eyes. "Really."

They stared at each other for a meaningful moment.

He sank into her a little deeper and her throat arched up. "That feels amazing."

"To me, too."

"But you haven't…"

"Not yet."

"Why?"

"Because you were drifting in euphoria. And I want you to remember this. With perfect clarity."

She touched his cheek. "I could never forget this."

"Me either."

"Only because you are so skilful."

"Nope. Because you are so damn beautiful." He pressed deeper still and grimaced with pleasure. "And because you feel so good. Now that I'm here, and I know just how sweet you are, I want to make it last. But damned if I can."

A second later, he was sheathed completely, his fingers were entangled in her hair, and his breathing was loud and ragged against her neck. Sliding his hands under her ass, he tilted her up and pushed into her as deep as he could possibly go.

"Jesus, Elena." He hoped that with that guttural moan he had made her understand just how tight and hot and incredible she felt.

Because when he began to move, he was quickly lost.

"Hey, you?"

Elena snuggled against him and sighed with contentment. "Hey you."

"Are you asleep?"

"No. Just thinking."

He had gathered a strand of her hair and was sweeping the ends of it across her nipple. "The way your hair brushes against them? Sexiest thing I ever saw. Drives me crazy. But I think I told you that already."

"That's driving me crazy," she said as he continued the idle whisking.

"Good crazy?"

"Wonderful crazy."

He tilted her head back and they kissed. When it finally ended, he asked, "What were you thinking about?"

"I was thinking you had probably missed out an important appointment because of me and I felt bad about it."

He didn't say anything for several beats. Then, "Do I have an appointment?"

She laughed and pressed her face against his chest. Her hand trailed down to his navel. "You are a terrible person."

"I'm a terrible person," he admitted. "I'm bad."

"But I still love you." She leaned up and kissed his face.

"And I love you too, Elena." He pulled her over on top of him so that they were settled belly to belly. "I'm sorry that I acted like a jerk the other day but I was actually glad to see you here."

"You never did tell me."

"Tell you what?"

"About what happened between Pete Donovan and you."

"I like Pete." He sighed. "He gave me a job when I needed one. He taught me how to cook. I owe him."

"Why don't you let anyone see the good in you?"

"When people see good, they expect good. And I don't want to live up to anyone's expectations."

She smiled at him. "I know you have a good heart."

"Really?" He winked mischievously. "You know me so well, uh?" He touched the tip of her breast and smiled when it hardened against his fingertip. "Do you know what am I thinking now?" He smoothed his hands down over her bottom and secured her more firmly against him.

Catching his meaning, she smiled. "Something dangerous."

They shared a laugh, and then he hugged her to him tightly. "I'm so glad you are here."

"I was nervous."

"You thought I would turn you down and kick you out?"

"I thought you might."

"Not a chance."

He slid his hands over her bottom all the way down to her thighs. He spread them apart until she was straddling him, and then lifted her so he could push inside.

He was full and hard, but mostly he was Damon, and she pressed down on him with a satisfied sigh. Leaning forward, she kissed his mouth, long and slow, then squirmed down and touched the tip of her tongue to his nipple. He made a low, sexy sound and asked her to repeat that.

His arousal aroused her, but when she began to rock against him, he placed his hands on her shoulders and pushed her up to a sitting position. "I want to watch."

"What?"

He splayed his hand over her lower belly. "Lean back. Farther. Put your hands on my thighs."

She hesitated, then did as he instructed, making herself vulnerable to his hot gaze and to his thumb, which he slid down between their bodies. He watched the lips of her sex close around it, and then looked into her eyes as he began to stroke her with a circular motion that caused her body to quicken and involuntarily thrust against his thumb. Tilting her face toward the ceiling, she closed her eyes and lost herself to the sensations.

Without inhibition, she gave over to her impulses, moved as her body was dictating, and allowed herself to be governed strictly by her senses. She heard Damon's hiss of pleasure, felt the fervent, wet tug of his mouth on her nipple, the flicking of his tongue in concert with his thumb's caresses.

She arched her back and cried out his name.

They slept for several hours and woke to make love again as they showered together. He was assembling the coffee-maker when she emerged from the bathroom, wearing only the dress shirt he had discarded the night before, towel-drying her hair.

When he turned and saw her, an odd expression came over his face. "What?" she asked.

He shook his head slightly, and then gave her a wolfish grin. "I was just thinking how good it looks on you."

"Your shirt?"

"Debauchery."

She blushed to the roots of her hair.

"Damn, that gets to me every time."

"What?"

"Your blush."

"I don't blush."

"Bet you will."

"Will?"

He sat down in one of the chairs at the table, caught her hand, and pulled her into his lap. It was a while before they got around to having their coffee.

"I felt bad that you missed your appointment last night." She took a sip of her coffee. "I'm sorry."

He shrugged casually. "You don't have to feel sorry. It was a party. Nothing important."

"Are you sure?"

"I didn't want to go at all but my PR thought that it would be good for the boss to turn up." He took a sip of the coffee from his mug. "I bet my staff would be glad I didn't turn up."

Her eyes' widened. "Why do you say that?"

"They don't like me."

"But why?"

"Because I'm a cruel, cold and nasty boss."

Elena smoothed her fingers over his hard jaw. "You are not cruel or cold. Nasty…maybe a little."

He turned her face up for a kiss and said with a grin. "I love you, sweetie."

"I love you too."