The Italian's Passionate Return (6 page)

Jemma grabbed hold of his arm, gasping when he entered her. She’d never even known that sex in this position was possible, but Damien was showing her quickly that it was not only possible, it was incredible.

A long time later, when her breathing was back to normal once more, she looked around, astonished to find that her bedroom was a disaster. The sheets were completely torn off of the bed, the pillows were nowhere to be found and clothes were strewn everywhere. Then her eyes caught the clock on her bedside table and she jackknifed up. “Oh no!” she gasped, pushing her hair out of her eyes.

Damien wasn’t ready to expend that much energy yet, but he knew that something wasn’t right. “What’s wrong, love?” he asked, his fingers sliding down her spine.

“Dylan! He’s going to be home in less than a half hour!” She sprang out of bed, grabbing her clothes as she hurried into the shower. “You have to be gone!” she called out to him.

Damien caught his shirt just as she tossed it to him and smiled at her comment. Leave? Not a chance!

He heard the shower start up and he dropped his shirt back down onto the bed. Heading into the shower, he ignored her look of outrage as she quickly washed the scent of their afternoon away with a floral soap. When she finished, he took it himself and lathered up, chuckling when her mouth fell open as she watched him.

But she regrouped quickly, blinking and turning away as she grabbed a towel and stepped out of the shower at the same time. By the time he’d finished his own shower, she was already dried and pulling on her jeans again. She blushed when he caught her in her plain cotton underwear, but he didn’t mind. He liked it. But he was also going to like her in sexy bits of nothing very, very soon.

“You have to go,” she told him again.

He pulled on his boxers, then his slacks, buttoning up his shirt and stuffing his tie into his suit jacket. “I’m not going anywhere, Jemma.”

She shook her head. “No. I know you want to meet him, but it’s too soon. I’ll figure out a good time to introduce you. But not today.” She was frantic, not wanting Dylan to be upset by the discovery of his father. “I’ll have to explain what happened and he won’t understand. He’s just a little boy…”

“Jemma. I’ve already missed five years of his life. There’s no chance I’m going to miss another moment.” He moved closer, taking her hands before she could pull her hair into a ponytail again. “We’ll talk to him together. From what I’ve seen of Adriana, children are very resilient if they are treated with kindness.” He paused to let his words sink in. “I’m sure Dylan will be fine as soon as we explain who I am and why I’m here.”

“But he might not like the fact that you’ve been gone for the first five years of his life.”

He pulled her into his arms and kissed the top of her head. “We’ll just explain the circumstances. Not going into the crazy details of how he was conceived, but…”

Jemma thought about that for all of five seconds before she shook her head. “No. It would be better if you came back later.”

He sighed and looked down at her. “Better for whom?” he asked, knowing that what she was asking would only be better for her. Not for him and probably not for their son although he admitted that he wasn’t an expert at children.

Jemma just looked at him for a long moment, her mind going over his comment. He was right. It wasn’t better for him to wait to meet his son. In fact, she was probably being very self-centered to even ask him to wait.

And Dylan was a good kid. He would probably be thrilled to meet his father. Not that he had started to ask about him, but he’d just started school. He was bound to start understanding that other kids had two parents while he only had one.

Well, two now.

But there were so many questions still unanswered. How in the world could the two of them make this work? She didn’t want to share Dylan. He’d been hers alone for so long, it was painful to accept change.

She sighed and looked down at her worn out sneakers, wishing she had something more interesting to wear. But it was either these or her work boots which were more beaten up than these. “I usually meet him at the end of the driveway where the bus drops him off after school,” she explained.

Looking up, she fought the tears that threatened to spill out of her eyes, wishing this could be easier. She walked past him, hurrying out of the house. Jemma didn’t want him to see how scared she was. What if Dylan liked Damien better? What would she do if Dylan wanted to spend more time with his new father than with her? She wasn’t sure what she would do if she didn’t have his hugs and sloppy kisses, or his incorrigible curiosity and that boundless energy to keep her going. If she missed a hug at night, her body actually ached. It was almost like his hugs pulled her bones together, made her whole each time.

Damien saw the stiff set of her shoulders and tried to figure out how to fix this. But her only solution was to push him away. Now that he knew he had a son, he wasn’t going anywhere. Not until they’d figured out how to move forward. And his idea of moving forward was to have her in his bed and Dylan under his roof. He’d never considered anyone else’s feelings before, especially not regarding business decisions. But he knew he would more heaven and earth, and his headquarters, to ensure his goal.

Why it was so important for Jemma to marry him all of a sudden, he had no idea. But his instincts were telling him to get his ring on her finger. Fast.

Perhaps it was because she’d gotten away from him once before and he didn’t want that to happen again. Or maybe the two of them were just riding a high from the incredible sex that afternoon.

Either way, he was determined.

He was startled to step out of her house and see his driver playing with the puppy he’d bought earlier today. He wasn’t even slightly embarrassed, but he caught Jemma’s stunned expression and almost laughed out loud. Apparently both of them had forgotten about the puppy. Thankfully, his driver seemed to be enjoying the little lady. He was throwing a ball to the fluff-ball and showing her how to retrieve it. Damien wasn’t sure if his driver or the puppy was getting more exercise, but at least the dog wasn’t cooped up in the car.

He walked beside Jemma down the gravel drive, wondering what she was going to do, and how he was going to introduce himself to his son. Now that he knew Dylan was his, he could see all the similarities between them. When he’d looked at the boy’s picture earlier, he’d noticed something. Now he understood. He’d seen himself in the boy. The pictures looked extremely similar to the few pictures his parents had taken of him as a child. Fascinating, he thought with a strange feeling in his gut.

The big, yellow bus came barreling down the rural road and it suddenly occurred to Damien that he needed to get more security out here for his son and his future wife. He had a lot of enemies. He hadn’t done anything illegal while building his empire, but he’d stomped on a lot of people’s toes. He found a company’s weakness and went in for the kill, giving no mercy when he went after something. Adriana had her own security detail and she spent most of her time on one of his estates where there was additional physical security. Jemma’s home was wide open, no one around for miles. Someone could easily come in and hurt her and he wouldn’t even know about it, possibly for hours.

But right now, his son was bouncing off of the school bus, obviously having had a great day at school. He waved to the bus driver and, with a skip and a hop, he jumped off of the bus onto the ground. “Hi mom!” he said, wrapping his arms around her legs as a hug.

Dylan then looked up at the strange man, ignoring the bus as it continued down the road. “You’re still here?”

“Yes. I’m still here,” Damien replied with amusement.

“Cool!” he said and turned back to his mom. “Ms. Williams said I could start multiplation,” he announced, slaughtering the word.

“Multiplication?” Jemma clarified, taking his hand and walking with him back down the driveway.

“Yeah. Whatever. It’s an easier way to count numbers,” he explained. “I can do it in groups.”

“You’re right! It is easier.”

Dylan took out a paper which had the multiplication tables listed. “I’ve already memorized everything through fives,” he announced. “It’s fun.”

Jemma glanced at Damien over Dylan’s head, seeing the pride in his eyes. “I thought so as well,” Damien said.

Dylan looked up at the tall man, impressed. “Do you know all of your multiplication tables?” he asked, slowing down to pronounce the word correctly.

“Yes. And I can even show you how it can be used in real life.”

Dylan’s eyes widened. “Cool!” He looked up at his mom with a huge grin on his face. “Did you feed the puppies?” he asked.

Jemma felt bad, having forgotten to feed the small animals after lunch. She’d been too caught up in a sexual encounter with a dark eyed devil. She looked at Damien again, blushing. “Um, nope. I know how much you like to feed them so I waited.”

Damien raised one eyebrow, letting her know that he knew her statement was a complete fabrication. But Dylan was thrilled. They’d reached the end of the driveway by that point and he dumped his book bag onto the ground and raced into the barn, excited to have an excuse to play with the puppies before he started his homework. “I’ll be in to do my chores soon,” he called out.

Damien and Jemma followed him inside the barn, laughing at how all the puppies had pounced on Dylan as soon as he’d stepped into their stall with the bag of food. Dylan was giggling and trying to push them off of his head and legs, but he loved all the attention and the puppy-kisses. The puppies ate their food, then tussled with one another, but after several minutes, their full bellies lulled them to sleep. Almost as a unit, the puppies sort of plopped down, falling asleep even if one of them happened to be on top of another.

“So what did you do today?” he asked his mom as he hefted one sleeping puppy onto his lap. He looked up, feeling secure now that he was touching a puppy.

“You’re not getting out of your chores,” she admonished, trying to keep the laughter out of her voice. “Finish up your chores then come inside. We need to talk to you.”

Dylan sighed and peeled the puppy away, carefully placing the animal with the others to stay warm. He gave Momma Dog a scratch behind her ears and stood up.

“We can go inside now,” she said. “He has to clean out three empty stalls and put out new hay for the horses.”

Damien looked over his shoulder at the little guy who was picking up a long, rake-like tool and heading into one of the stalls. He seemed to know what he was doing and didn’t really mind. Which was yet another testament to how good of a mother Jemma was. The boy understood responsibility and teamwork and Jemma wasn’t afraid to give him work to do.

He wondered if Adriana had any chores. Probably not, he suddenly realized. The child was surrounded by servants who were paid to anticipate her needs. What chores would she possibly be allowed to do? Granted, the girl was only three years old, but it looked like Dylan was well used to accomplishing his chores. He supposed it was time for him to shift his parenting style in regards to Adriana. Jemma would help, he thought with admiration and respect. He watched her walking in front of him, admired the gentle sway of her hips and her sexy figure. She was the complete package, he realized. And he wanted it all!

“I’ll start dinner,” she said.

Damien stepped into the kitchen as well. “What can I do to help?”

Jemma was surprised that he would even offer and more than a little disconcerted that he was so close. “You could chop up the onions,” she offered as a way to get him over by the kitchen table instead of right next to her.

He took the onion and chopped it up. And then the celery, the carrots and potatoes. Anything she handed to him, he chopped up and she dumped into a big pot for soup. Adding chicken and bits of spices she’d grown in her back yard, she put a top over the pot just as Dylan walked inside. “Ready,” he said and jumped up onto his chair in the kitchen. “Can I have cookies?”

“Go wash your hands,” Jemma told him then looked at Damien. It was time, she knew. But her heart ached at the idea. Dylan wasn’t just hers anymore! It would never be just the two of them again.

With a deep breath, she pulled herself together.

“It’s going to be okay, Jemma,” he said and handed her a cookie, winking at her to help her smile.

Jemma looked down at the cookie and had to laugh. She gave Dylan cookies when he scraped his knee or when he’d done something good as a reward. “Yeah. I guess it will be.”

“We’ll make sure it is,” he told her, squeezing her hand gently.

“You guys aren’t going to kiss or anything,” Dylan asked, disgust apparent in his tone.

Jemma jumped and stepped back from Damien, but he took her hand again and pulled her closer. "Yes. We might. Do you object?” he asked.

Dylan went over to the cookie jar. “I just don’t want to see it,” he told her.

Damien chuckled at the boy’s reaction but he slipped an arm around her waist. “I think your mother has something to tell you.”

Dylan looked up at him curiously. “You have an accent,” he said as he sat down at his chair again. “Where are you from?”

“I grew up in Italy but I’ve lived all over the world.” He paused, looking at Jemma before he asked, “Would you like to visit Italy some day?”

He heard Jemma’s sharp intake of breath, but squeezed her hand gently, trying to tell her that things would be okay.

Dylan shrugged his shoulder. “Do they have horses and puppies in Italy?” he asked as if those were the most important criteria for a place having any interest.

“Yes. Of course they do.”

“Then yeah. Probably.” He continued to eat his cookies.

Jemma took a deep breath. “Dylan, do you remember our conversation about your father that you and I had about a year ago?”

Dylan looked up, his eyes starting to narrow. “Are you my dad?” Dylan asked, his cookie frozen halfway to his mouth as he waited for an answer.

Damien looked down at Jemma who was biting her lip and fighting tears. He wrapped his arm around her waist and squeezed gently. “I am,” he replied. “And I’m honored. I didn’t know that I had such a fine young man for a son,” he said and sat down at the table across from Dylan who still had forgotten about his cookie.

Leaning forward slightly, Dylan’s eyes widened even more as he asked, “So are you going to teach me how to hunt and fish and go camping?”

Damien laughed. “Yes. I can teach you to fish. I’m not so sure I can hunt very well, but I can teach you other things that might compensate for not hunting.”

Dylan’s face broke out into a huge grin and he wiggled slightly in his chair. “That’s so awesome! What do you do? Are you going to move in here? Johnny’s dad lives in another city but he comes by every once in a while. Not often though. Are you going to come to my birthday party? And what about Christmas? Mom makes us go to church all the time too. So are you going to go to church with us? Sometimes she lets me sit in church with her so can I sit in church with you too?”

Jemma laughed, wiping her tears away so Dylan didn’t become concerned. “Hold on, buddy,” she told him, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder. “His name is Damien Alfieri and he lives in Italy. So…”

“But I’ll be here soon. I don’t know all of the details.”

“He just found out that he had a son a few hours ago,” Jemma explained when Dylan’s eyes started to narrow again with concern. “He is a very busy man.”

“But not too busy to see my son.” He hesitated. “I don’t want to change your life, Dylan but…”

“But everything is changed!” Dylan exclaimed, almost jumping up and down. “And mom’s bed is big enough to share so you could live here!”

Damien looked over at Jemma and almost laughed when he caught her face flame up with color. The idea of sharing her bed was very alluring. Turning back to Dylan, he said, “Your mom and I will talk on the phone to work out the details, okay? And will you talk to me about your day when I call?”

Dylan’s excitement was settling down with those words. “Yeah. But what about tonight? You can’t leave now, right? You’re going to stay for a little while?”

Jemma’s heart wrenched. To discover a father and then have that treasure taken away so quickly was confusing. “He has…”

“I’m taking you and your mother out for dinner tonight. And I was hoping you could introduce me to your horses.”

Dylan was thrilled. “Yes! Can we go to Tucker’s for dinner?”

Damien looked at Jemma, not sure what Tucker’s might be.

Jemma hesitated. “Dylan, I’m not sure Mr. Alfieri would like Tucker’s,” she explained. “Maybe there’s a place that…”

“Tucker’s sounds fine with me,” he interrupted, accurately guessing what she might be about to say. He winked at Dylan who grinned right back. “Burgers, I’m guessing?”

Dylan’s head bobbed up and down. “Great burgers!”

“Let’s go meet the horses,” Jemma suggested, thinking it would be a good idea to get out of the house. Dinner sounded good too. Anything to put more space between all of them. She turned around to turn the heat off of the soup then put the whole pot into the fridge for dinner the following night. She wasn’t a big fan of soup anyway. It was just cheap, healthy and easy to make.

As they walked out of the house towards the pasture, Dylan swamped Damien with questions, eager to learn about his newly discovered father but also excited to tell the new man in his life about his accomplishments.

“He’s going to brag about you with his friends tomorrow,” she said as Dylan raced ahead of them, thrilled to be showing his father something he loved.

Damien stopped and turned to face her. “And you?”

She blinked, not sure what he was asking. “What about me?”

“Will you be bragging about me to your friends?”

She instantly thought about George and felt horrible. “No.” But if they showed up at Tucker’s tonight for dinner, everyone in town would know about the new man in Dylan’s life by the time he went to school in the morning.

He looked down at her, his dark eyes scanning her blue ones. “Get rid of the guy, Jemma,” he told her forcefully.

Jemma blinked, shocked that he’d read her mind so easily. “What man?”

“The man you are seeing.”

Dylan raced back, jumping up and down. “George isn’t too bad. My mom likes him but she’s not going to marry him.”

Damien had been watching Dylan but by the end of the statement, he looked up at Jemma. “Who is George?” he demanded.

Jemma shivered. “Dylan, why don’t you go saddle up Buddy and show your dad how well you can ride?”

Dylan’s grin widened even more. “I’m real good!” he announced. A moment later, he was gone, racing towards the barn to get his saddle and gear.

When Dylan was out of hearing, he turned back to Jemma. “Who is he?” Damien demanded.

Jemma crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t answer to you, Damien. I never have.”

He jerked her into his arms, pulling her close. “You do now,” he said and kissed her. Hard. She resisted initially, but the moment his lips softened, when the kiss turned persuasive instead of punishing, she couldn’t hold back her response. She’d just been satisfied by this man’s touch and his body a few hours ago but with this kiss, and with the way he was holding her, Jemma’s body instantly fired up again.

When he lifted his head, they were both breathing hard. “You can’t do this to me!” she said, her hands forming fists on his chest but she didn’t push him away. “It isn’t right.”

His own hands moved up her back, holding her close. “I don’t know what it is, Jemma. But I definitely wouldn’t call this wrong.” His hands turned soothing which didn’t completely shut off her response but she didn’t want to move out of his arms.

“I’m seeing someone,” she whispered.

“And you had sex with me this afternoon,” he argued right back. “And you just kissed me again.” His hands moved down to her hips, pressing her against him so she knew of his body’s response. “Face it Jemma. We can’t ignore this.”

“But how long is it going to last? I won’t marry you and then find out that we can’t stand living together. Dylan is too excited, too thrilled at having a dad. It would break his heart if we tried and failed.”

He looked into her worried blue eyes and something twisted inside of him. “Then we won’t fail.”

He said it as if that was all it took. She wished that were so, but after dating a few times over the years, she knew that it took a lot to get through a marriage. And lust wasn’t one of them. Lust burned out. Lust clouded issues that needed to be resolved.

Dylan called out to them at that moment and Jemma turned, smiling for her son. “You look great!” she called out. “But keep your focus.”