The Italian's Passionate Return Page 0,2

brought her to the brink of heaven, only to carry her over into screaming, passionate climax and then coax her to gently float down into blissful pleasure like he had. She resented him for that. Because ever since that night, she’d never found another man with whom she could experience such incredible bliss. He’d both spoiled her for other men and scared her to even try looking.

Because that one night had resulted in Dylan’s conception. And although she’d never regret having that precious boy in her life, this man had changed the course of her destiny. Even as she looked at him how, she instinctively knew that he could do it again.

She’d almost made it through the doorway when a grip like a steel band wrapped around her arm, hauling her back. “Jemma?” he asked, taking her other arm, effortlessly holding her in place even as she struggled to get away from him. “Is it really you?”

No matter how hard she yanked against his hands, she couldn’t break his hold. He was too strong and too dangerous. She was shivering when she finally stopped. She wouldn’t look up at him though. She simply stood there with his hands still gripping her upper arms, furious with him and scared at the same time.

“It is you!” Damien looked down at the woman who had haunted his dreams for years. Even now, he occasionally thought about her, dreamed about her. He’d gotten his security team to try and find her, but since he hadn’t gotten her last name, they hadn’t had much to go on. But he’d never forgotten her.

They’d met at a night club, their eyes drawn to each other. She’d been twenty years old and one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen. He’d been twenty-eight and reckless, wanting to live life hard and fast, both personally and professionally. On the personal side, he was a frequent member of the club scene. On the professional side, he was buying up every company that would fit within his mad scheme to build an empire for himself.

In a remarkably short time, the empire had come through hard work, merciless hours and what some called dangerous risks but what he knew were all calculated maneuvers. His one regret was not getting this woman’s last name that night.

“Where have you been all these years?” he demanded, moving closer to her. He loved the smell of her, the way she moved. She was like music when she walked and a symphony when she danced. Of course, he’d only had those few dances with her, but he didn’t care. He’d compared every lover since against this one woman and they’d all come up lacking.

“It doesn’t matter where I’ve been,” she almost growled. “Let go of me and get off my farm!” She yanked again, glaring up at him but she couldn’t hide the shivering at his touch. She was furious with herself for feeling anything other than anger towards this man. Oh, the anger was definitely there. Hurt, anger, betrayal….and desire.

No! She did not feel lust! She didn’t feel anything but anger. Focusing on that emotion, she kicked his shin, hoping that would get her release.

Unfortunately, he was much more agile than she realized. He laughed softly down at her as he avoided her attempts to wound him, his eyes firing with that strange light she’d dreamed about over and over again. “I don’t remember you being this feisty,” he said, his voice deepening to a husky chuckle. “I think I like it.”

Damien moved closer, pinning her against the rough wood of the barn wall. As he held her hands, he caught the surprise in her eyes and almost laughed out loud with delight. “It’s still there, isn’t it?” he asked softly, releasing her wrists, letting his hands run up her arms and smiling when she shivered again. “It hasn’t abated at all, has it?”

Jemma tried to turn her head away so he couldn’t see the desire in her eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said through gritted teeth. She tried not to let him heat up her body with his, pretending that she wasn’t affected by the way his hard, muscular body pressed against her softness. “I don’t want you. I don’t even like you,” which was the truth. Unfortunately, she was discovering that her mind didn’t need to like or respect a man to desire him.

“I need you to leave. I have responsibilities.” With those words, she remembered that Dylan needed