Black Widow Bride (16 page)

“I won’t meddle again. I promise. But that stubborn son of mine is headstrong. An idiot. And sometimes he needs a good old-fashioned kick up the pants.”

Despite her misery, Rebecca couldn’t help herself. She laughed.

It was Friday evening in Los Angeles—Saturday in Auckland. Instead of planning the coming week, as was his norm, Damon stood on the balcony of a hotel suite overlooking Santa Monica Bay, ten minutes away from the flurry of LAX. The continuous drone of planes over the Pacific held Damon transfixed. T.J. would’ve loved it. He stared west over the endless Pacific. Beyond Hawaii to the south lay New Zealand…and Rebecca.

What were Rebecca and T.J. doing? He couldn’t stop thinking about Rebecca. The shock and fear that had flashed in her eyes when he’d said goodbye bothered him. She’d thought that he was leaving, telling her it was over. Was that what she expected? Did she think he’d make love to her like there was no tomorrow, then walk away at the first opportunity?

Perhaps she did.

When had he ever given her reason to think differently? She’d probably read his request for time as the precursor to his leaving. What had he ever done to deserve her trust?

The pain that had been kindling ignited into a burst of anguish. Four years ago he’d made a massive mistake. He’d picked the bride his brain told him he wanted. In his arrogance, he’d refused to see what Rebecca was. Even his mother had known.

He’d compounded his error in judgment by letting Rebecca slip through his fingers. Not because she was unsuitable, outrageous, manipulative. Despite all the things he’d told himself, he’d still wanted her, burned for her. And he’d driven her away with cold glares and cruel barbs.

Because of fear.

She terrified him. He shifted, uncomfortable with what he was forcing himself to admit.

He feared losing control of his inner self, of putting his heart and soul into the hands of a woman he couldn’t bring himself to trust.

So he had run and married Rebecca’s best friend to give his mother the grandchildren she craved. He married the wrong woman, for all the wrong reasons. And Fliss had married him for the wrong reasons, too. Both of them had done Rebecca a terrible injustice.

At Fliss’s funeral he’d stared across the grave at Rebecca, humiliation scorching him. Yet despite the consuming fury there’d been a kind of relief.

His marriage had been wrong.

Fliss’s death had freed him.

But it had been too soon for him to admit the enormity of his mistake—not that his arrogance would’ve let him. He’d allowed his mother to convince him to let Rebecca go, without taking revenge. Because deep down he’d known. He was the one who had screwed up.

Not Rebecca.

And he’d needed to come to terms with that.

Now he had. It had taken him all week to realise how brave people conquered fear. Rebecca’s great overriding fear was losing a loved one. It was a real fear.

Damon balled his fists.

Rebecca had lost her parents. Theos, she’d never even had a chance to know her father. He uncurled two fingers and stared at them. Her brother and her best friend. Another two fingers unfurled. Aaron Grainger had committed suicide. He stared down at the five outstretched fingers of his right hand.

Five people. The five closest to her. Did her fear of loss stop her loving T.J.?

Of course not. She loved him. Recklessly. Incandescently. Tenderly. Without restraint or fear, Rebecca had raised her dead friend’s baby. The child of the woman who had betrayed her. All Rebecca had done was give and give and give. No one gave her anything back.

She was so strong. She was even prepared to risk becoming his lover when she suspected that there was nothing down the road for her except rejection.

He was the coward. He’d never even told her how she made him feel. He’d told her that he needed time. Damon unrolled the index finger on his left hand and stared at his hands. Yes, Rebecca believed she’d lost him, too. If he wanted to be part of Rebecca’s life, part of the family Rebecca had recreated, he had to act and overcome his fear.

Damon wheeled around and hurried into his suite.

His cell phone lay on the table in the sitting room. But Rebecca was not home. Demetra told him that she’d gone to Tohunga to check up on her business and she wasn’t sure when Rebecca would be back. Damon disconnected and checked his watch. Rebecca would be at Chocolatique now. It would be better to say what needed to be said face-to-face.

The printout of his diary lay on the coffee table. The pages showed that the next month was hell. He frowned. He had to get through the next week here in L.A. But after that…

Picking up a fat gold pen, he slashed through his commitments for the last fortnight of the month. Everything would have to be rescheduled because he was taking two weeks off to invest in his future.

The next move was his.

T.J. was bubbling with excitement in the car seat behind her, his oblivious joy underscoring Rebecca’s dread.

It had taken Rebecca two whole days to compose herself after the phone call she’d received from Soula on Friday evening. She still could hardly believe what Soula had told her. Yet she’d begged Soula to let her be the one to break the news to Damon. He deserved that much. Friday night had passed in a blur of tears. As the pale dawn had broken on Saturday, she’d decided what she had to do.

Yesterday had been heartbreaking. She’d taken T.J. down to their favourite rock pool at the beach. He’d paddled, knee-deep in the water, his fear slowly receding as he’d splashed around. With her digital camera she’d taken hundreds of photos. As if that would ever be enough.

In the afternoon they’d sat in the shade of the pohutukawa tree in the front garden, and Rebecca had known that when the tree burst into flame-red flowers this Christmas she would not have the heart to sit beneath it. She would be struggling to put together the broken shards of her life.

The time had come to sell the house. She’d buy another, start afresh. Perhaps closer to Auckland. Chocolatique would have to go, too. Miranda and her sister had expressed interest in taking over the business. She’d start looking out for a new business opportunity. It would give her something to do to keep her mind off—

Soula opened the front door, interrupting her fragmented plans. Deep lines scored the older woman’s cheeks. She’d aged. Rebecca saw from her face that Soula, too, knew this was the end. Wordlessly Rebecca walked into Soula’s arms. They clutched each other and Soula’s shoulders shook.

At last Rebecca stepped away. “Is Damon here?”

“His flight landed an hour ago. He should be home any minute.” Soula’s voice broke. “Come to my suite. I’ll give you the report.”

“Will you keep T.J. entertained until I’ve spoken to Damon?”

Soula nodded, her eyes wet with unshed tears.

When Damon strode into the lounge, Rebecca was waiting for him, outwardly composed but inwardly shaking. He’d already shed his jacket and pulled his tie loose and was in the act of unbuttoning the top buttons of his silk shirt when he saw her. A range of emotions flashed across his face. Rebecca thought she saw a glimpse of wonder and then it was gone and only astonishment remained.

“I thought you were in Tohunga?”

Rebecca rose to her quaking feet. “I’ve come to return your son.”

“My son?” A frown creased his brow. “What do you mean?”

“T.J. is your son. Your mother had a DNA test done. She posted off samples of your hair and T.J.’s to some company in Australia a while ago—without my knowledge. However reprehensible her actions might’ve been, the results are pretty much conclusive. Here’s the report.” She thrust it into his hands. “He’s your son. Yours and Fliss’s.”

Her eyes were filling with tears. Dear God, she wished she’d stop blubbering. “Damon, I swear I never knew.” She stopped, swallowed, fighting to compose herself. “You’ll find T.J.’s birth certificate in the envelope, too. Just before she died Fliss signed the application and stated in the declaration that James was the father.”

Damon pulled the document out. “Tyler James. My son’s name is Tyler James. Fliss always did say she wanted to call our son Tyler.” His eyes were blank, shocked.

Remorse streamed into the empty hole in her heart. “I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine how you must feel. I feel so guilty. The day after he was born I signed a declaration as James’s kin confirming that he was James’s son. I believed it. James believed it. But I can’t forgive myself—because of me, you’ve lost out on time with your son, time you will never recover.”

He didn’t answer. He was still staring at the paper he held, the paper that listed her brother as T.J.’s father. What was he thinking? God, he must hate her. Unending questions spun through her mind. Had Fliss ever believed James to be her baby’s father? Or had she known she was already pregnant, bearing Damon’s child? Rebecca remembered the doctor saying after the birth that he would have said the baby was full-term—not premature at all. But she didn’t even want to think about it. She’d never know for certain anyway.

“I’m sure you’ll be able to get T.J.’s second name changed. And the father’s name corrected,” she babbled. “A court order will be easy enough to obtain with the DNA evidence.”

What would her baby’s name be? Not T.J. anymore. Damon would drop the James. He wouldn’t want any reminders. Maybe he’d keep Tyler.

She didn’t know what more she could do to make it right. What would ever be enough? “I’ll sign any documents you need me sign to relinquish my rights to Tyler.”

“Relinquish your rights to Tyler?” Those startling blue eyes focused on her. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about the fact that I adopted him. Maybe you’ll want to change both his names on the certificate.” Inside her heart ached with savage grief. “I’ll do whatever I can to make it right, even though I can never give you back the missing years.” With trembling fingers she wiped the fresh tears out her eyes. “All his stuff is upstairs, in the room I was using. He’s going to need you. It will be difficult at first.” Then she added in a rush, “I’d like to see him sometimes.”

“What the hell do you mean?”

She could understand Damon’s never wanting to set eyes on her again, not wanting her in T.J.’s life. But she needed that—she couldn’t let T.J. go completely. She drew a deep breath. “I’m selling my house in Tohunga—and Chocolatique. I’ll find something in Auckland, somewhere closer to—”you and T.J. “—T.J.”

“You can stay here.”

She went still. “I can’t stay, Damon. He’s your child.”

He shook his head, looking stupefied. “But you’re his mother.”

She shook her head wildly. “No, I’m not. Fliss is his mother.”

“You’re his mother in every way that counts.”

The pain nearly shattered her. “But you’re his father, his real father. His place is with you.” She’d have the memories of the years with T.J. as a baby, the memories of Damon’s lovemaking to carry her through the rest of her life. Hopefully Damon would agree to visits, too. She’d see them maybe once a month. That would have to be enough.

He took a hesitant step toward her, then stopped. “You would do that? You’d give up the person you love more than your own life to me?”

“You belong together.”

“You belong with us, too.”

Her heart skipped. “What do you mean?”

“T.J. is your child.” He moved quickly. Before she could blink, he had her in a rough bear hug. “I’m not letting you go. I love you,” he whispered against her neck. “You’re not going anywhere. I’m going to do what I should’ve done four years ago if I hadn’t been so blind. I’m going to marry you.”

She started to tremble. “You love me? You want to marry me?”

“Yes.” He held her tighter, his arms hard bands around her ribs.

His throat was very smooth, very tanned, and she watched his Adam’s apple move convulsively. “You don’t even know if I love you,” she murmured.

“You love me. If I wanted proof, you just gave it. You were prepared to leave T.J. with me, sign him over to me completely and go away. But I’m not letting you go. Never again.”

“You’re right, I love you.” Rebecca pressed her lips against the hollow of his throat and then she whispered, “So what are you going to do about it?”

They tore off their clothes and fell on top of Damon’s wide bed. Damon pulled Rebecca onto him, moaning as her naked skin slid across his torso.

She placed her lips over his, swallowing his next moan, and licked the slick heat of his mouth. The salty taste of her tears on his skin made her wipe the back of her hand across her face.

“Let me,” he whispered, the sound husky in the silent room. His thumbs stroked across her eyes, closing them, the pads soft against her eyelids.

When she opened her eyes again, she stared down into his and asked, “Do you forgive me?”

“What for?” His expression held bewilderment.

“For keeping your son from you.”

He stilled. “You didn’t know he was my son. And you raised him with love, lots of love, without holding back and never hesitated risking your heart. You kept him safe. How can I ever hold that against you?”

“Thank heavens.” Relief washed through her, turning her knees weak. “When Soula, called I was so afraid—”

“Don’t.” He pulled her close. “I don’t want you to ever be afraid again. We have so much for which to be grateful. I must have done something good in my life to have got this…you…right.”

She made a sound that was half laugh, half choke. “I’m far from perfect, you know.”

“You’re perfect for me.” His hand smoothed over the back of her thigh, over the curve of her buttock. She murmured something incomprehensible as his fingers traced up the groove of her spine. Shivered.

Then his hands laced into her hair. He held her fast. He pulled her down and opened his mouth as their lips met, his tongue surging into her mouth. The kiss was ravenous.

Rebecca scissored her legs against his, then let them part, falling on either side of his thighs, and she pressed herself against him.

He shuddered.

His hands loosened and he fell back against the pillows.

Rebecca wriggled a little, rubbed against his hardness and watched the blaze of heat light his eyes.

“Rebecca. Oh, Rebecca.” His voice was throaty. “Never leave me.”

“Never! I’ll keep you close. Forever.” She shot him a little grin. Shifted her lower body over a fraction. Felt his erection leap. Then she moved.

“Woman, what are you doing?”

But he knew.

His face was alight. She stared down at him. There was desire and passion in his face, but more than that, there was love. Naked, unashamed love.

For her.

It turned her on.

She raised her hips carefully, slowly, conscious of the length of him below her. Her body was already slick with arousal. His hand was moving downward.

“No.”

He froze at her command.

“Keep still. Watch me. I want to love you.”

His eyes never wavered from hers. “I love you more than I’ve loved any woman. Do you know that? I love everything about you. I wouldn’t change anything about who you are, how you make me feel. I’ve never felt anything like this before.”

Rebecca stared into the deep blue depths. The black streaks like dark, dangerous rocks in a tempestuous sea. “I believe you.”

She paused for a heartbeat.

Then she sank down with one swift movement, sheathing him within her heat. There was a moment of sheer pleasure…and a warm glow of completion. She watched emotion explode in his eyes until the blue burned like silver. Wonder, pleasure and more love.

His arms wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her down against him. A moment later he began to rock his hips. Skin slid against skin. Slowly. So, so slowly. The pleasure that burst through her was incredible.

She gave herself up to the wildness, the heat.

When they finally gained track of time, Damon and Rebecca came downstairs to announce that they would be getting married. There was jubilation and Soula wept a little with joy.

Finally everyone settled down to dinner and Rebecca gazed around the faces at the table: Soula, Demetra, Savvas, T.J. Her family. Her own eyes prickled with tears of happiness. So many people, so much love. When her gaze came around to the man seated beside her, he gave her a slow, satisfied smile.

“So who gets to plan your wedding, Rebecca?” Demetra chimed in.

“I’ll take care of that,” Damon said firmly. “I think I know what the bride’s fantasies are.” His smile grew wide and Rebecca eyed the curve of that sexy lower lip with hunger. Beneath the table his hand moved in lazy circles against her thigh. Rebecca shot him a narrow glance.

Demetra started to laugh. “Well, this is one marriage no one needs to worry about. You two are so in tune it’s positively scary.”

“About time they realised it,” Soula snorted.

“If Mummy marries Daddy, does that mean I get ducks?” T.J. piped, tugging at Damon’s sleeve.

“Whatever you want—”

“Let’s think about it, okay?” Rebecca interrupted Damon, rolling her eyes. “Ducks in the lap pool? I can see that you’re going to take full advantage of the situation, young man.”

T.J. gave a naughty grin. “But I’ve never had a Daddy.”

Damon’s eyes flared hot with emotion as he looked from T.J. to Rebecca. “I’ve never had a son. And soon I’ll have a wife. What more could any man ask?”

Later, back in Damon’s bed, their bodies a naked tangle under the covers, Damon murmured, “I meant every word.”

Rebecca nestled closer. T.J. was fast asleep a couple of doors down in his new room, the room Rebecca had occupied before. Damon’s hand stroked her shoulder, then disappeared under the covers to caress the smooth skin of her back. Heat followed where his fingers touched. She shifted.

His hand stilled. “Can you ever forgive me?”