“Love, no matter how it’s expressed, is still love. We all have flaws, and so our love will be flawed. But that doesn’t diminish it.”

Damien squeezed her tighter to him, swallowing hard, unable to speak. How did she do that? How did she manage to get inside his head and find his thoughts, anticipate them, refute them, offer him a comfort that he wasn’t sure he deserved.

One of the walls of defense towering around his emotions and heart had a good hole in it. About the size of Mandy’s foot, where she inadvertently was kicking down the fortress that had protected him for three years.

“I’m not sure I agree with you, Mandy. Just because we’re flawed doesn’t mean it’s okay to let those flaws bleed into our feelings.”

“Do you think there is a perfect love, then?”

“No.” That he was sure of. And he wasn’t even sure there was love.

“I think perfect love is any time you love unconditionally, without selfish intent, without concern for personal gain.”

He wanted to scoff. Call her hopelessly naïve and begging to be taken advantage of. But he couldn’t. Maybe because he wanted so desperately to believe that she could be right. “And do you think people really do that?”

“I do, Damien. I really do.”

Her hands wrapped around his waist, her hair tickling his chin, and he knew that she meant what she said. That she would love her child that way. That she had bits and pieces of her that alone were greater than the sum whole of his soul.

He knew that he didn’t deserve whatever she had to offer him.

That he couldn’t resist her.

That he wanted to believe.

That he didn’t want to be alone anymore.

That while the court had dismissed the charges of murder against him, he had effectively been living in a prison of his own making for the past three years.

And that Mandy was helping him turn the key.

Damien wasn’t taking the hint that she wanted to make love to him. Mandy lounged on the bed, the contents of the hamper spread out all around her, stomach happily full, while every trick she tried was ignored.

He was either exceptionally dull witted, or he was choosing to ignore her. Knowing him like she did, she was forced to conclude the latter. Damien was no dummy.

But Mandy had done everything short of a striptease to get his attention. Instead of jumping her bones, he just looked pained. As though he had indigestion.

He hadn’t done a thing when she had brushed her chest against him. Hadn’t made a move when she’d tossed her hair and given him a smoldering look. Hadn’t even blinked when she had spread out lunch on the bed, claiming the balcony was too sunny this time of day.