The Italian's Passionate Return Page 0,3

to get to the bus stop. “I have to go,” she gasped and pushed against him with all her strength.

She suspected that it was more just surprise that caused him to step backwards, but she didn’t care. Jemma rushed out of the barn, heading for Dylan. She needed to put as much distance between Dylan and this man as she could. She didn’t know Damien well. Okay, so she knew him intimately but she didn’t know his character. Six years ago, she hadn’t had the chance to catch her breath after meeting him. He’d literally swept her off of her feet. They’d spotted each other across the room at a club. And as soon as their eyes connected, she had been lost in the magnetic pull of his eyes and his body. As soon as they were close enough, he’d pulled her out onto the dance floor. They hadn’t even remembered to exchange names until after he’d kissed her.

She shook her head, pushing memories of Damien out of her mind. She’d been twenty years old and stupid, gullible and a virgin. He’d been twenty-eight, a man of the world and more experienced than she could handle. Their one night of passion had left her shaking from aftershocks.

And two weeks later, she realized that she was pregnant with no way to contact him.

Okay, so to be fair, not being able to contact him hadn’t been his fault. She’d left the following morning, walking out of his beautiful penthouse before he woke. She’d caught a cab and went home, shamed to her core that she’d done something so careless.

When she’d discovered her pregnancy, she hadn’t been able to find her way back to the man’s building. All of them looked the same! Concrete and glass buildings were common in the city, and she’d been so upset that morning, she hadn’t noticed any of the exterior details. Only the size and luxuriousness of the inside of his penthouse had left an impression.

Jemma hurried across the broken pathway to her small house, praying that Damien would just go away and leave her alone. She couldn’t handle him right now. Good grief, she hadn’t been able to handle him six years ago!

“Ready?” she asked, breathless when she stepped into the relative warmth of her tiny house.

Dylan already had his shoes on and his backpack ready. “Don’t forget your lunch,” she called out to him a moment before he was about to race out the door.

Dylan froze for a split second, then raced back to the counter where his brown bag was sitting. He grabbed it, stuffed it into his book bag – awkwardly, since he didn’t want to take the time to take his bag off of his shoulders – then raced out the door.

Jemma followed behind at a slower pace. She knew he was capable of getting to the bus stop on his own since it was just at the end of her driveway, but she preferred to make sure he stepped onto the bus safely. This area was too remote and she was a paranoid mother. So she walked down the tree lined drive, her arms crossed over her stomach because of both the cold and her reaction to seeing Damien again.

Dylan was her antidote, she thought, smiling as he raced to the end of the drive and looked down the street for the bus. He loved school, became irritated with the slower pace of the other students or the teacher but he was still very kind, normally helping his classmates to understand the concepts the teacher was explaining. He was a sweet little guy, but she worried about him not being challenged enough.

With a sigh, she smiled at his excitement when he spotted the bus. By the time it rolled to a stop in front of him, he’d already given her a hug, a cheeky grin and a big, sloppy kiss goodbye. Jumping onto the bus, he smiled to the bus driver who chuckled at his excitement.

“Hi Debbie!” Jemma called out to the bus driver. Debbie waved back even while she pulled the door closed. “See you this afternoon,” Debbie called back to Jemma.

The bus pulled away and Jemma sighed with happiness. Dylan was her life now. He was everything she needed.

Chapter 2

Turning around, she looked back down the long driveway. She couldn’t see the barn or the black limousine because of the trees, but she suspected Damien was still there. If he’d left, she would have seen the car pull out