Читать книгу The Wedding Party Collection - Кейт Хьюит, Aimee Carson - Страница 35

It was Monday morning, eleven days after she had departed, that Rebecca drove back into the elegantly curved drive of the Asteriades mansion. For the last time, she promised herself.

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?”

She lifted her head, stared down at him. In the dim gold of the bedside light she saw that his face was relaxed, his mouth tender.

“Forgive you for what?”

“T.J. should have been your son.”

She brushed back the lock that had fallen across his forehead. “He is my son. In every way that matters.” She kissed his cheek. “And how could I not forgive you? You forgave me for keeping T.J. away from you.”

“You did that unknowingly.”

“You believe me?”

He gave her a content, trusting smile. “Of course.”

She settled down beside him. “I can’t tell you what your belief means to me.”

He turned his head on the pillow beside hers and met her eyes. “Why does it mean so much?”

“I feel like I’m always fighting what people believe.” She paused. “It wasn’t true, you know.”

He hooked his arm around her, drew her close to his side until he felt her grow warm from his heat. “What wasn’t true?”

“That Aaron left me a fortune and I squandered it. Aaron committed suicide because he’d been caught with his hand in the till, he’d defrauded the bank to the tune of millions. Naturally the bank didn’t want the news to get out—bad publicity, the impact on the share prices and all that.” Curling up in his arms, she said, “He didn’t even tell me what he’d done. I knew something was wrong, but I never dreamed it was that.”

Damon hugged her tightly. How could Grainger have messed it up? The man had had it all. Money. Success. And, above all, Rebecca. Damon knew he could afford to be gracious. “He was a good man. But his position must have offered temptations he was incapable of resisting. And once he was found out, well, he would never have wanted you to see him in trouble.”

Damon suspected Aaron Grainger had liked the godlike status he’d achieved. He wouldn’t have wanted a life without the patina wealth brought, without the status. The sneers during a trial, the snubs when he came out of prison would’ve destroyed Grainger.

“After his death—” Rebecca broke off and gave a shiver.

“It was months of hell. Aaron had opened heaven knows how many offshore accounts and siphoned the funds out the country. I gave the bank all the help I could. They repossessed fixed assets, liquidated everything. He should’ve told me. I would’ve stood by him.”

Damon shook his head and stroked slow fingers down her back. He didn’t doubt that Rebecca would’ve stood by her husband. Aaron Grainger had left his young bride to face the heat, and taken the coward’s way out. And she still didn’t denounce him.

What kind of woman was she? A saint?

Shame seeped through Damon. He’d heard the stories, been eager to believe them. Now he’d discovered the truth. She hadn’t squandered Aaron’s ill-gotten fortune, she hadn’t driven him to suicide. She’d respected her dead husband’s memory, had never sledged him off to anyone.

He kissed the top of her head. “I’ve told you before that Aaron recognised your worth. Infinitely precious.”

Her head came up and she gave him a grateful smile. “Thank you for that. Aaron was very good to me.”

He wasn’t going to argue. The man was dead. No threat to what they shared. And he could never forget that Aaron Grainger had taken a chance on him and helped him when Stellar International had been in trouble. Aaron had played an important role in both their lives. He deserved to be remembered. Damon stared into the dark, slanting eyes that did such dangerous things to his equilibrium. He swallowed. “You must wear the pendant he chose for you. It suits you.”

Her face lit up. “You wouldn’t mind?”

He hesitated, then said firmly, “Of course not.”

“This sounds awful, but I have to tell you—it’s my favourite piece of jewellery.”

Damn, he’d be reminded of Aaron Grainger every day of his life if she wore it. Then he pushed away the tiny sliver of resentment. Rebecca was the woman she was today because of her past. Earlier he’d told her he loved everything about her, that he wouldn’t change anything about who she was. Every word had been true. She was complex, caring and much more woman than he deserved. If the pendant gave her happiness, he would never object to her wearing it. “It suits you. Grainger had good taste,” he said gruffly.

“I used to wear it a lot.”

“I remember.”

“At first I wore it to remind me of Aaron.” For an instant she looked apprehensive. Then she said in a rush, “After I met you, I wore it because the colour always reminded me of your eyes.”

God. She never ceased to surprise him. But he was thankful he’d told her how much he loved her before this final bastion had fallen. Her arms crept around his neck and pulled him close. The kiss he placed on her mouth was long and lingering. Her lips parted and he deepened the kiss. Heat rose swiftly within him. After a few minutes, he raised his head and muttered hoarsely, “I don’t deserve your love. I don’t deserve a second chance.”

“Watch it, you’re talking about the man I love.” She reared up on her elbow.

“When we first met, I looked at you, wanted you…but I was a coward. I saw all your passion, your intensity, and turned and ran instead of sweeping up the challenge you presented. I would’ve received riches beyond measure. Instead I retreated, threw Felicity in your face as the model for womanhood. You say I’m blind. I’m not. I’m stupid.”

“You’re not stupid. Fliss was a darling.”

“Loyal to the last, aren’t you?” He brushed her hair back from her face. “I married her for all the wrong reasons. Because my mother wanted grandchildren. Because she was biddable. Because she was so different from you, she didn’t tie my head—or my heart—in knots. But I came to wish she had a little of your steel.” As he admitted the truth, the shame started to recede.

“Fliss was weak. But it’s not her fault. Not wholly. She had a hard time.”

“She had you. Yet she married the man you wanted, left you to look after the man she loved—and still you defend her.”

“I must. I loved her. And she gave me T.J.”

“Our son.”

“Yes, our son. Now I’ve got you. And you love me. What more could I want?” She smiled at him, a slow smile. A happy smile filled with promise.

Damon leaned forward and gave her a gentle kiss, thankful that he’d found her again. The woman who loved him more than he deserved. The woman who bewitched him. The woman who held his heart in her hands.

Two weeks later and a world away from the bustle of Auckland, a lone couple stood on the wide strip of golden sand. The woman’s feet were bare and damp from the surf, and she was clad in a simple long white dress. A blue opal pendant hung from a gold chain that glinted in the late-afternoon sun. And she wore a brand-new set of matching earings and a bracelet that her bridegroom had given her as a wedding present. The groom wore a light-coloured suit fitting for the island’s humidity, and the page boy wore a pair of floral board shorts and a dun-coloured shirt.

There were no bridal attendants, no guests, no hoopla. Only a bride, her groom and their son. As the celebrant walked toward them with two women who had agreed to act as witnesses, the groom leaned down. “Is a Pacific island close enough to your fantasy?”

The bride tipped her head up. “I don’t need anything beside you—and our son.”

“You’re sure you don’t feel cheated of the celebration, the guests, the presents?”

Rebecca laughed. “Believe me, there will be mountains of presents to open when we fly home—between your mother and Demetra, I don’t doubt that. But I’ve had the best gifts already. You, the fact that T.J. swam today and that he laughed while doing it.”

The groom cupped her face in both his hands and stared down at her with gleaming blue eyes, his touch warm and tender. She turned her head and kissed the arch of his thumb. Never had she been happier.

“I love you,” Damon told her, his voice fierce. “Have I told you today?”

“Yes, but I’ll never tire of hearing it.”

“And I’ll never tire of the wonder of finding you and my son”

He bent to kiss her.

Rebecca’s toes curled into the soft sand. The familiar flare of desire flickered within her. The celebrant gave a cough. For a moment Rebecca thought Damon was going to ignore the man. Then he murmured, “Later” against her lips and drew away. The wide white pirate smile he flashed her held a promise that made her tingle.

“Dearly beloved,” the celebrant intoned. “We are gathered here today to celebrate a wedding, the love of two people for each other…”

Soula Asteriades smiled from ear to ear as she made her way to the deck where the sound of festivities could be heard.

Her eldest spinster sister, Iphegenia, was ensconced in a large comfortable chair with plenty of cushions supporting her. The younger, Athina, was playing tavli with Johnny. Soula’s three brothers and their wives and children and grandchildren were scattered across the deck, some of the little ones playing in the peculiar long, skinny pool her son had built. Savvas and his bride-to-be shared a lounger, their heads close together like a pair of lovebirds.

“Look, a photo,” Soula announced, holding up a cell phone. “The first photo of my eldest son, his new bride wearing a beautiful white dress—no sign of scarlet in sight—and their son, my first grandson. This is a miracle for which I claim no responsibility.”

As the family surged forward, happiness swamped her. She tilted her face to the heavens and knew somewhere out there her beloved Ari was watching, celebrating with her.