The Wedding Party Collection. Кейт Хьюит
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body, Rebecca hoped that it would be a temporary aversion and made a mental note to arrange him a course of swimming lessons after a little time had elapsed. Then they’d settled down to play with the brightly painted trains on the wooden tracks.
Several hours later a light rap at the door caused them both to raise their heads. The door swung open. Damon stood there looking oddly hesitant. “Dr. Campbell just rang. The hospital is discharging my mother tomorrow morning.”
“You must be thrilled.” Rebecca gave up trying to manoeuvre Gordon through the signal crossing and sat back on her heels. “Is she strong enough?”
He shrugged. “Dr. Campbell thinks she’s fine. He also wanted to check on T.J. I told him that T.J. had eaten, that you were with him. You’re welcome to phone him later if you’re worried about anything.” Damon’s assessing glance flickered over T.J. “May I come in?”
“Want to play trains?” T.J. invited, blissfully unaware of the growing tension.
“May I?”
T.J. nodded enthusiastically. “The green train is Henry. The black engine is Diesel. He’s being naughty today.”
Damon squatted on the floor. “Naughty? Why? What did he do?”
Rebecca waited, heart pounding under her throat.
T.J. didn’t look up. “He fell in the duck pond.”
Damon went white. “T.J.—”
“He did it on purpose because he wanted to swim.”
Rebecca drew a cautious breath. “Maybe Diesel needs a couple of swimming lessons?”
“No.” T.J. was adamant. “Diesel never wants to swim again.”
Damon shot Rebecca a helpless glance over T.J.’s head.
“Diesel loves to swim, just like you do. Lessons will help him swim better,” Rebecca said calmly.
“What if he’s scared?”
Damon pushed the Chinese Dragon along the track. “It’s fine to be scared, T.J. Everyone gets scared sometimes.”
“Not you—you’re a man. A big growed-up man. You don’t get scared,” T.J. replied with childish logic.
Rebecca fought the smile that threatened to break out across her face at the observation. Damon was a man, every muscled inch of him.
“Even me,” Damon said emphatically. “I get scared, too. I’ve been very scared because my mother has been ill. And I was scared this morning, too.”
“I scared, too,” T.J. said. Wide round eyes looked up at the man crouched beside him.
“Nothing wrong with that, son.”
Rebecca sagged. Watching Damon with T.J., she couldn’t believe how well he’d handled that. She’d been treading on eggshells all day, terrified of bringing up the subject, yet knowing that it would be healthier for T.J. to discuss it rather than let it fester.
Gratitude filled her—and something more. Something that made her throat thicken, a warm sweet feeling with a bitter edge that made tears threaten.
Dear God, how she loved this man.
The emotion she felt now was stronger than almost four years ago. More compelling than the fierce attraction that had drawn her to Damon all those years ago. Then she’d fallen madly in lust with him.
And thought it love until it had turned to pain.
Pain that had shattered her.
It wasn’t the same as what she felt now. Then she’d only recognised Damon’s sensual magnetism, glimpsed the passion beneath the tight control.
She’d accused him of judging her without getting to know her. Well, she hadn’t known him, either. Not beyond the fierce pull he held over her body. She’d pursued him with headstrong recklessness—and paid the price.
The price had been his contempt.
Over the recent weeks she’d gotten to know him. Really know him. Not just the sexy, charismatic Greek male she’d been wildly infatuated with years before. But the real man under the corporate billionaire mask. Had grown to understand his fierce loyalty, the protective love with which he guarded his loved ones. This morning Damon had done everything in his power to rescue T.J.
T.J. was under his roof, so he felt responsible for what had happened. Even though they’d both been there. Not once had he blamed her for leaving the sliders open. Without a word he’d assumed the full mantle of guilt.
And now, watching him playing trains with T.J., their dark heads close together, she recognised the essence of his strength and his capacity to show care and tenderness to a child—a child of a woman for whom he’d had little respect in the past. A woman who was now his lover.
The woman who loved him with an intensity of feeling that scorched her. And this time it was more than lust. This love had the depth of an adult, confident woman. This was the love of a mother who trusted a strong, dominant male not to harm her child, to protect them both to the limits of his strength, with his life if necessary.
Damon was the man for her. So strong, so passionate, so gentle. A man that a woman would be proud to have beside her for all the years of her life. There would be no other man for her.
There never had been.
That night, once T.J. was sleeping, Damon insisted that Rebecca come downstairs for a break after spending the whole day closeted upstairs.
Damon had given Johnny time off to allow Rebecca some privacy and space to recover from the morning’s trauma. Once Johnny vanished to his quarters, they were alone. Savvas and Demetra would only be back tomorrow afternoon, and Damon had decided against calling them. They would find out soon enough about T.J.’s brush with tragedy.
Now, as she sat curled up on the sofa opposite him, Damon saw that her eyes were bruised with tiredness. While he was tempted to sit down beside her and pull her into his arms he resisted the temptation lest she think he was prompted by lust. Sex was the last thing Rebecca needed right now.
“Are you okay?”
She glanced up at him and nodded. There were grooves of tension beside her mouth and her face was full of hollows. The long, tempestuous day had been hard on her.
He ached to kiss the strain away. All his preconceptions were under attack. The woman he’d once considered vain and selfish was a devoted mother. She was kind to his mother. Yet thinking back to the past, he could remember instances where she’d been fiercely protective of Felicity. To the point where she’d confronted him, pleaded with him not to marry Felicity. He’d been enraged when she’d accused him of coercing Felicity into a marriage that she’d regret. He’d dismissed Rebecca’s pleas as machinations, an attempt to get what she wanted: him. But now he was no longer sure that it had been all about him. Perhaps—
“Damon…” Rebecca interrupted his thoughts.
“Yes?”
“It doesn’t matter.” She looked away, a vivid flush staining her pale skin.
“What is it?”
“Will you hold me?” The words came out in a rush and the eyes that met his were shadowed by uncertainty.
“Of course!” He moved to sit beside her. Looping an arm around her shoulders, he pulled her close. She nestled her head against his chest with a soft sigh. She smelled of talcum powder and something sweet. He had a strong urge to tilt her face up to his and kiss her breathless. He killed the impulse and pressed a tame, gentle kiss against her hair instead.
His thoughts drifted back to the past. Why had Rebecca been so set against his marriage? Why had Felicity left? Had Rebecca known something that he hadn’t? Rebecca had been right about one thing: Felicity had not been happy married to him. She’d