Читать книгу The Wedding Party Collection - Кейт Хьюит, Aimee Carson - Страница 34

“Okay.” Rebecca drew a deep, shuddering breath. “Look, maybe it’s time to tell you something else about T.J. Something I’ve waited too long to tell you. But I was afraid—” She broke off.

“Afraid?” Damon prompted, coming closer.

Rebecca forced herself to continue, not to run a million miles away. She stared at the strong features she loved so much. “Not long ago you said I’m the strongest woman you’ve ever known. But I must be the most fearful, too.”

He brushed a strand of hair from her face. “So tell me,” he invited. “What are you afraid of?”

Damon was so confident, so sure of himself. Why had she ever thought that the truth she’d hidden so carefully might hurt him? “Well, there are lots of things. I’m afraid of losing those I love. You know that.”

His gaze softened. Wordlessly he covered her hand with his. His touch was warm and comforting. It gave her the courage to carry on. She took a deep breath. “I’m afraid of hurting people, most of all I’m afraid of hurting you.”

“Don’t worry about that. You couldn’t hurt me. I’m tough.” But his eyes turned a shade darker as wariness crept in. “So why don’t you just spit out this big dark secret of yours?”

“Okay.” She squeezed her eyes shut, murmured a prayer and clutched his hand like a lifeline. “T.J. is Fliss’s son. Not mine. I adopted him.”

The silence was total.

Nothing moved. But his hand grew stiff in hers. Rebecca opened her eyes.

Damon dropped her hand and rose slowly to his feet, his face white. Finally his mouth moved. “T.J. is my son?”

“No.”

“I heard you, Rebecca,” Damon accused. Every last vestige of humour had fled. “You said he was Fliss’s son. You kept this from me?”

“I—”

“You what exactly?”

“I wanted to tell you that he’s Fliss’s son.”

“When?”

“I was trying to tell you…” She drew a quick, fortifying breath. “I wanted to tell you before—”

Before we made love. But she couldn’t speak of love. Not while he stood there so pale and angry. Rebecca shut her eyes in frustration.

“You—” He broke off. She flinched and opened her eyes, waiting for the invective to follow. “You robbed me of my son.”

“Stop it!” she yelled. “T.J. is not your son.”

“What?” The bones of his face stood out sharply under his tan. “What do you mean he’s not my son?” He was grappling, searching for words. “But I heard you…you said he was Fliss’s son.” But the massive self-confidence had dwindled. He looked shaken.

“I didn’t want to ever have to tell you this.”

“Tell me what?”

“Fliss…” Her voice trailed off.

“What? What about Felicity? Talk, dammit.”

“Fliss was in love with my brother. He asked her to marry him.”

“James.” His voice was colourless. “Your brother. He’d recovered from his addiction, hadn’t he? So why the hell didn’t she marry him if everything was so damned perfect in Eden?”

“Because she was insecure. You have to understand. Fliss lost her parents when she was nine. She was terrified of change. She wanted security above all else. James’s cancer horrified her. She couldn’t stand beside him and watch him die. And then she met you.”

He folded his arms, closing himself off from her. “You’re telling me I was her meal ticket?”

“Oh, no, no. It went much deeper than that. You’re more than simply a rich billionaire.” Was she getting through to him? Or was she wasting her time? “You’re strong, confident, respected. Fliss craved all that. Nothing was ever going to go wrong with you around.”

“But it did. She left me after barely six weeks of marriage. Without a word of explanation she upped and left with you. No sooner was the honeymoon over and the bride fled.”

He’d hated that, Rebecca realised. He must have thought himself the laughingstock of the city.

He was glaring down at her now. “Did you and Fliss laugh yourselves silly when you read the papers? Did you see what they said about me? They wondered what kind of monster I turned into after dark.”

“No,” she said slowly. “I didn’t know. We didn’t read the papers. James…the cancer was spreading. Losing Fliss had jolted him. He’d decided to try radiation. I came to tell Fliss. The only reason Fliss left you was because James wanted to see her before the radiation. He was terrified of the treatment. I think Fliss grew up very quickly right then. She couldn’t bury her head in the sand anymore. He loved her, he needed her.”

Damon had grown fuzzy in front of her. The whole room blurred. Rebecca blinked. A hot tear splashed down her cheek. Impatiently she smeared it away.

“And she went?”

“Yes. I only meant her to go for a day. James was here, in Auckland, for a final consultation before the treatment started. But once she saw him—” Rebecca broke off. How could she explain how Fliss had felt?

Fliss had felt terrible about abandoning James, about betraying him by marrying another man while she still loved him. There’d been guilt, too, that she hadn’t stood by James while he came to terms with his diagnosis. Fliss had faced the fact that she could no longer run, that she wanted to spend whatever time he had left at his side. Yes, James had cancer, but there was a slim chance that he might survive. This time she’d chosen to betray Damon and her marriage vows.

“In the days before the treatment she stayed with James in my apartment. After the radiation—” Rebecca swallowed “—they discovered she was pregnant. It was like a miracle.”

“But she was still my wife,” Damon growled.

“That was the only thing that put a damper on their happiness. They’d have to wait the legally required two years before Fliss could divorce you. James was scared he’d be dead by then. So they decided to live each day to the fullest. James was convinced the baby was a sign that he would make it. But six months later the cancer was back. This time the doctors weren’t as optimistic. But James and Fliss wouldn’t accept it. They thought James would pull through.”

Except they had both died. James had been having a good week. The baby was due soon. He’d agreed to attend a party in his honour, celebrating his temporary reprieve and their baby’s imminent birth. Fliss had been blooming and James had so desperately wanted to live. For Fliss. For the baby.

No one had foreseen a car accident. James had been killed instantly. Fliss had held on long enough to speak to Rebecca, to sign a will and an application for a birth certificate…to hold her baby and name him Tyler James. There had been a lot of blood loss, shock, multiple transfusions before she passed away.

Rebecca had walked away with a huge lump of a bruise where the seat belt had restrained her and a massive case of survivor’s guilt.

She started when Damon put his hands on her shoulders.

“And while she was pursuing her future happiness with your brother, she didn’t think to tell me why she’d left? To call? She owed me an explanation.”

She shrugged his hands away and stood. “Your wife was scared you’d be angry. She thought you’d come after her—she planned to tell you then.”

“I don’t think so,” he drawled. “I suspect she hoped you would explain it all for her when I finally turned up. Except I didn’t.”

“No, you served her with a separation agreement instead and washed your hands of her.”

“And gave her a healthy payoff. What happened to that?”

Rebecca raised her chin as a wave of anger swept her. “It formed part of Fliss’s estate. I invested it for T.J. He’ll get it when he turns twenty-five. Sue him then.”

“Laws of prescription aside, I wouldn’t do that to the boy. I don’t need that money.” He considered her, his head tipped to one side, inspecting her as though she were an unfamiliar species. “What really interests me is why Felicity thought she could marry me while she loved someone else.”

Rebecca sighed. “I’ve wondered that myself too many times to count. She didn’t think she and James would work out. Not with James refusing even to talk about his cancer, refusing to discuss radiation and pretending it didn’t exist. Fliss was terrified of being abandoned after his death, I think. I honestly believe she hoped she’d grow to love you.” Rebecca had clung to that hope. That Damon and Fliss’s marriage would work. Only that would make the pain she’d suffered worth it.

“And you?” He was curious, she saw. “What did you think about all this?”

She glanced away. “It wasn’t my decision to make.”

“But you didn’t approve.”

It was a statement, not a question. Surprised, she stared at him. He’d anticipated her reaction. “No. I told her she shouldn’t marry you.”

“You told me that, too.” His mouth twisted. “What else did you tell her?”

“That it wasn’t fair on you, that she was cheating you. But I couldn’t tell you that. Her relationship with my brother wasn’t my secret. So I tried to convince her that both of you would suffer if she didn’t break it off.” Did he finally believe her? It was hard to gauge.

“Pity that neither of us took your advice. Arrogant fool that I was, I thought your motives were suspect. Quite simply I thought you wanted me for yourself. How utterly conceited. I should’ve noticed that the moment I started courting Felicity you never once flirted with me again.”

“Not quite true.” She gave him a sad smile. “Remember the rehearsal, the night before the wedding?”

“When you begged me not to marry Fliss, told me she’d regret it? And when I refused to listen, you threw yourself at me, kissed me. How could I ever forget?”

It had been a life-defining moment for her. She’d told Damon that he couldn’t marry Fliss. He’d stared at her down his impressive nose without deigning to respond, looking at her as if she were trash. Something inside her had snapped. The next thing she knew, her arms had been wrapped around his neck, her body plastered against his. She’d stared at his beautiful, sensuous mouth. Then she’d kissed him. Open-mouthed, with all the passion she could muster. She’d put everything she felt for him into that kiss.

“You did kiss me back,” she said at last.

“Ah, God, how could I not? You were pure sin, pure delight. I couldn’t stop myself. I should have seen sense then. Instead I thought I’d gone mad, tempted by a woman—”

“You despised.”

“Yes,” he said very quietly. “But I lied to myself. Self-preservation. You terrified me.”

“So you pushed me away and told me never to come near Fliss again after the wedding.”

“I seem to remember I called you some vile names. Some of the anger you bore the brunt of was directed at myself. I couldn’t believe I’d kissed you back, that I’d been weak enough to betray Fliss. I’d always considered myself a man of principle.”

And for a heart-stopping second Rebecca wondered if he’d ever be able to forgive himself for that breach of honour. He’d hated the passion, the emotion she aroused in him. Now she could see his abhorrence for what he considered his weakness of character. Would that reckless kiss the night before his wedding come between them now, almost four years later, and drive them apart?

“You were arrogant. She was my best friend and I knew she would do whatever you wanted. I felt betrayed by both of you. You broke my heart. So I flirted with you shamelessly on the dance floor the next day.”

His face became sombre. “I’d wounded you, called you names, treated you like dirt. I deserved everything you dished out. But my question still stands. Apart from those two occasions, you never flirted with me after Fliss and I started to date. Nor were you ever hostile to her.” He paused. “Why was that?”

“I can’t say I didn’t hope that Fliss would come to her senses and remember James. Fliss was like a sister to me. I loved her. My brother loved her, too. How could I hate her or flirt with the man who was interested in her?”

“Even though she snaffled the man you desired? She did it under false pretences, yet you still loved her?”

“Yes, I still loved her.” Rebecca met his frowning gaze squarely. “Even though she married you when she should’ve known better.”

“I admire your loyalty. It’s a pity Felicity didn’t show you the same loyalty.”

“I don’t think she realised…quite what I felt for you.” It was painful to admit.

Damon looked disbelieving.

Rebecca flushed. “I was painfully obvious, wasn’t I? Must’ve been very amusing to you. But I’d never felt that kind of…response to any man. After Aaron, I never thought I’d marry again. Then poof—” she snapped her fingers “—there was this out-of-control yearning.” Her voice shook. “You and me, I thought it was meant to be.”

“I’m sorry.” He touched her cheek. “I was cruel.”

“Yes.” She ducked her head away.

His hand fell to his side. “I judged you.”

“Yes.”

“You didn’t defend yourself.”

“If it had been meant to be, I wouldn’t have needed to defend myself.”

A silence followed her words.

He’d turned white under his tan again. “I deserved that. I listened to the rumour mongering of fools. I heard only what I wanted—” He broke off.

“I wasn’t prepared to stoop to counter the rumors.” Rebecca held her head high. “Some of them tried it on with me—”

“And you told them to go to hell?”

“Something like that.”

“So they destroyed your reputation.”

“More like they didn’t want the rest of the boys to think they were the only ones who didn’t get lucky.” Her mouth twisted. “The stories of my…accomplishments…grew in the telling.”

“God!” He raked fingers through his long hair, pushing it back. “A lot has happened in the past couple of days…today. There’s a lot I need to think about, Rebecca. I need time.”

She bit her lip. Here it was—the kiss of death. She’d known that what they had now would not survive the long shadow of the past.

“Do you want me and T.J. to go?”

“No.” His blue eyes looked weary. “No. Never that. But I need time to think this through. I’ve discovered that a lot of what I believed is false, I’ve learned some things that have made me not particularly like myself. I need time to come to terms with it all.”

This was all because of his twisted sense of honour. He couldn’t forgive himself for kissing her when he’d pledged himself to another. He couldn’t forgive himself for the hurt he’d caused her. All because of what he saw as his own weakness. Every time he looked at her he’d remember how he’d failed himself.

And what was the point of arguing? He said he wanted time. Rebecca suspected he wanted to inveigle himself out of a dead-end situation. Because of the past, they had no future. What future was there with a woman who every day of his life would remind him of the humiliation of the past? So what if he desired her—had even come to like her? There was no point in fooling herself that he’d ever love her the way she wanted to be loved.

Rebecca raised her chin. “I understand.”

“I don’t think you do.” He gave a sigh of frustration. “Look, I’m flying—”

“Rebecca, we’re home.” Demetra’s voice floated through the house.

Damon swore.

A moment later the door burst open. “Oops, sorry.” Demetra’s hand flew to her mouth.

Damon snarled something in Greek, leaped from the bed and barged out the room, leaving Demetra staring wide-eyed at Rebecca.

“Wow. What did I interrupt? What have I missed? Tell me everything!”

Rebecca had just watched T.J. drift off to sleep when a knock sounded on her bedroom door. She hurried across before the sound could rouse T.J. and yanked the door open.

Damon stood there, his knuckles poised to rap again, his eyes guarded. “I came to say goodbye.”

For an instant her heart stopped and she felt winded.

He must have seen the shock in her eyes, because he pushed his hands into his hair. “I’m leaving to go to L.A. tomorrow, remember? For two weeks?”

The business trip. Of course. Why had she been so shaken? Perhaps because “goodbye” was her worse nightmare? Because he’d said he needed time, and deep down she feared that meant it was over? “Come in.” Rebecca stood aside.

Something—desire?—flashed in Damon’s eyes. But he didn’t move. “No, I’m not coming in. I wanted to give you a cheque.”

Rebecca frowned. “A cheque? For what?”

“For the time and work you’ve spent on the wedding so far—to tide you over until I get back.”

“I can’t take it.” She backed away from the cheque he was thrusting at her.

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’ve earned it. That’s why you came back to Auckland originally. Take it.”

“That’s not why I came back to Auckland.” Her heart tore and her temper snapped. “You are so blind!”

His head snapped back. “Okay, so why did you agree to do the wedding then?”

She looked away. “Because your mother was sick and you were worried about her.” Her voice was low, even to her own ears.

“Spare me! I can’t talk now.” He thrust it at her and started to walk away.

Without looking at the face of the cheque, she tore it across. “I can’t accept it. It’s in breach of my contract.”

That stopped him in his tracks. He swung around, his eyes narrow slits in that barbarian face. “What contract?”

“The contract selling Dream Occasions. I have a restraining clause.”

“But you sold the business nearly four years ago. It would be unreasonable that you couldn’t work as a wedding planner in the city after two years.”

“I had a clause restraining me from contacting old clients for five years. That’s not up yet.”

“My mother was never your client.”

“But you were.”

And she saw the memory hit him. When he’d thrown the cheque at her the night before his wedding to Fliss, told her to take it as payment for the work she’d done for him and Fliss. Defiantly she’d taken it, holding the gaze that was full of contempt. At first she’d kept it as a reminder of her stupidity for falling for a man who hated her.

And later, when he’d served the separation agreement on Fliss, she’d endorsed the cheque and given it to Fliss. When Fliss died, the proceeds of Fliss’s estate together with the payout from Fliss’s life insurance policy had all been invested.T.J. would inherit a tidy sum when he was twenty-five.

“So, I’m sorry, I can’t accept that payment.” She held Damon’s narrowed gaze, refusing to drop her own.

“Why?”

She pretended to misunderstand him. “I told you—the contract.”

“No.” He made an impatient gesture. “Why did you agree to help with the wedding?”

She gave a little huff of impatience. “Don’t you listen to anything I say? I told you that, too. Because your mother was ill. And you were worried about her. How could I turn my back on you both then? When you were suffering? How could I walk away when your mother might be dying?”

He flinched. “It was the one thing guaranteed to change your mind, wasn’t it? After all the losses you have suffered, you couldn’t leave me to face the chance that my mother might die alone. And I never even realised. Stupid!” He banged his palm against his forehead. “But you should still have told me you couldn’t accept payment.”

“I did. I kept repeating it. But you wouldn’t listen!”

“I thought that you agreed to do the wedding because I doubled my offer. I thought it was the money. And when you told me your mother had deserted you and James, that you didn’t know who your father was, I started to understand why you were driven to be so self-sufficient. I realised why money is so important to you and for the first time it stopped maddening me that I’d had to pay you a damned fortune to get you back to Auckland. But, as usual, I screwed up.” His eyes were a dark, pained blue. “I don’t know anything about what goes on in that beautiful head, do I? God, what a mess.” He sank his hands into his face. When he finally raised his head, Damon looked haggard. “It never changes, does it?”

“It really doesn’t matter,” she said.

Damon watched her with an expression she could not read. The silence was unnerving. At last he exhaled and said flatly,

“It matters.” Then he turned on his heel and walked away.

The knowledge that Damon had jetted out to L.A. made the house feel as if the heart had been ripped out. Rebecca found it hard to settle down on Monday morning to make the calls she needed to. Nothing filled the hollowness within her. Finally she made a deal with herself. She would go back to Tohunga for a few days, maybe a week. But only after she’d completed the list of tasks she’d set herself for the week—that would give her a goal. And she’d start with finalising the seating arrangements for the wedding with Soula, which Demetra—typically—wanted no part in.

She found Soula in the lounge.

“Rebecca, pethi, don’t hover in the doorway. Come sit down. I’ve been wanting to speak to you, child.” Soula set aside the piece of tapestry she’d been working on. “Has T.J. gone with Demetra?”

Rebecca nodded. “He loves helping Demetra. Personally I think it’s the joy of making mud. But today is a special treat. T.J.’s going to watch the landscapers transplanting giant full-grown palms into Demetra’s front garden. He can’t wait to see the crane.”

“We must be grateful. He’s recovered well from a nasty experience.”

Rebecca crossed the room and sank down beside Soula. “Dr. Campbell told me it would take a while before he feels completely secure, that he’ll need a lot of attention and love until he comes to terms with it.” Rebecca hesitated. “Soula, there is something I need to tell you.”

Oh, where to begin? Rebecca fidgeted with her fingers.

“What is it, pethi?” Soula’s eyes were sombre. “Ah, don’t tell me you can’t arrange Savvas and Demetra’s wedding? That you are leaving?”

How had Soula known?

Rebecca looked up. “I need a break for a few days. I want to go to Tohunga and check that everything is okay with my business and my house. But, don’t worry, I will be back to finish arranging the wedding.”

“Pah.” Soula flapped an arm. “I’m not worried about the wedding. I’m more worried that once you leave you may never return.”

“I’ll be back,” Rebecca promised.

“When will you go?”

“I thought I’d leave at noon on Friday. That way I can reach Tohunga by late afternoon.”

Soula slid her a sideways look. “Does Damon know about this?”

She shook her head. “But he’s going to be away for two weeks. I’m only going for a week—I’ll be back by the time he returns.”

Soula gave an impatient puff. “Well, what can I say? If you need to check on your business, then you must do so, my child. Now tell me about T.J.”

“T.J.?” Rebecca could feel the blood draining from her face. “What do you want to know?”

“When do you intend to tell me that he is not your son?”

“Is it so obvious?” Shaken, she stared at Damon’s mother. “How did you know?”

“Oh, Rebecca, Rebecca.” Soula shook her head sadly. “Except for the dark hair and the eyes, he is the spitting image of Fliss. The curls, the heart-shaped face, the dimples are all Fliss.”

She’d already had this discussion with Damon. It was good to have it all out in the open. She was so tired of living a lie.

“So why did you pretend yesterday that you thought he was my son? Mine and Damon’s?”

“I wanted to give that son of mine a shove in a direction he should have taken a long time ago.” Soula gave a weak but wicked smile. “That way everything works out. You keep T.J., whom you obviously adore, and T.J. gets to have the love of a mother and his blood father.”

“Wait a moment.” This was going to be hard. But she’d committed to the truth, so there was no other way. Rebecca picked her words carefully. “Soula, T.J. is not Damon’s son.”

“Of course he is. He has the Asteriades eyes.”

“No, those are Fliss’s eyes—”

“Yes, they are blue, and I grant that they are the same shape as his mother’s. But the colour is pure Asteriades. My husband had those eyes, too.”

Rebecca was shaking her head. “No, you’re wrong.” She moved closer, took Soula’s hands in hers. “Look, this is going to come as a shock, but Fliss didn’t love Damon. She loved someone else—”

“Oh, I know all that.” Soula gave a dismissive wave of her hand.

“You know?” Rebecca stared. “But how?”

“I’m a mother. I knew that Fliss didn’t love my son. But neither did he love her. Each had their own agenda for marrying—and, no, it wasn’t love. I didn’t approve. I was very disappointed with my eldest son’s choice.”

“T.J. is the son of—”

“Hush,” said Soula. “Don’t say anything that you will later regret. T.J. is Damon’s son, and when you marry that will be final.”

“No, we’re not getting married.” Rebecca shook her head at Soula’s obstinacy but couldn’t help feeling flattered that Soula wanted her in the family. “Thank you, Soula. But it won’t work.”

Soula sagged back on the sofa, her wrinkles deeper, looking every one of her years. “You know, I told that stubborn son of mine not to come back to Auckland without you. For once in his life he did what I asked. I think he was scared I was going to die. I wanted him to see you again and fall in love with you. I want grandchildren.”

So Soula had been scheming. She hadn’t been well, but she’d seen an opportunity to manipulate. A true Asteriades. The ends always justified the means. But Rebecca couldn’t stir up any anger. Instead she gave the older woman a wan smile. “You are a truly wicked woman, but I wish you hadn’t meddled.”

“I wasn’t well. I didn’t lie about that.” Soula tried to look righteous. Then she spoiled it by shooting Rebecca a guilty look. “There’s something else I shouldn’t have done, so I’m not even going to tell you about it, because it has the potential to make everything so much worse. I should’ve left everything well enough alone, never tried to get you two back together again.”

“But then I wouldn’t have gotten to see you again.”

“Oh, Rebecca.” Silver tears glistened in the corners of Soula’s eyes. “You are the daughter I wish I had. So gracious, so loving.”

Rebecca’s own throat closed up. “You know, I don’t really remember my mother. But in my dreams, she’s you. But sometimes no amount of forcing will make something work if it’s not meant to be.” She bent and planted a kiss on Soula’s forehead. “Damon and I, well, there is something between us, but we’ve agreed to give each other a little time and space. I’m going to miss you while I’m in Tohunga. But I will be back and I want you to promise not to interfere again. This is something that Damon and I must sort out, not a fairy godmother’s wand.”

“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.