Damiano's Return

Eden looked up uncertainly.

Damiano studied her with bleak dark eyes. ‘I thought the worst because I felt that I deserved the worst. I was too upset to be rational,’ he confessed with a ragged edge to his dark, deep drawl. ‘But even when I was being a lousy husband five years ago, even when I was being unreasonably jealous, I always knew in my heart that you were the most honest and sincere woman I had ever met.’

‘You…you did?’ Eden pressed in surprise.

‘Of course, I did,’ Damiano asserted forcefully. ‘No matter how damning the evidence appeared, I should have accepted your word that you had not had an affair with Mark Anstey.’

Eden continued to stare at him, utterly disconcerted by that final statement. Meeting the level look of regret in his spectacular dark golden eyes, she realised that he meant what he was saying. No longer did he suspect that she had been unfaithful! The most enormous tide of relief rolled over Eden and left her feeling weak. She sank heavily down on the window-seat and slowly breathed in deep to steady herself.

‘I wish I could tell you that I reached that conclusion without hesitation,’ Damiano continued with a pronounced air of discomfiture. ‘But I’m afraid I can’t—’

‘You can’t?’ Eden cut in anxiously, wondering if she had misunderstood his declaration of faith in her mere seconds earlier.

‘I was able to purchase the entire roll of film that was taken of Anstey and his female companion that day.’ Damiano withdrew several photographs from the inside pocket of his jacket. Colour scored his hard cheekbones as Eden frowned in bewilderment and then stared fixedly down at the snaps he was laying out on the window-seat for her inspection.

‘I didn’t realise that there was more than that one photograph taken!’ Eden snatched up the first. She was astonished to find herself studying a photo of Tina in the act of climbing out of the car, a photo which nobody who knew both women could possibly have mistaken as being of Eden.

‘I had begun negotiations to buy that film before I even landed back in London,’ Damiano informed her wryly. ‘I wanted to ensure that neither the original nor any further photos that might have been taken that day could appear in print again.’

Eden slowly shook her head over the spread. Distaste filled her as she thought of the hidden photographer out simply for profit but ultimately responsible for causing so much heartache. Leaving the photos where they lay, she got up and walked away from them in growing disgust and bitterness. ‘Naturally, the newspaper was only interested in printing that one picture that showed the big kiss but not the woman’s face! So it was just a case of mistaken identity, was it? Some creep who didn’t know either Tina or me well enough to tell us apart?’

‘I have put the matter in the hands of my lawyers. My opinion is that the mistake was deliberate because it provided a tacky little story but I may be proved wrong. Can you forgive me for doubting you?’ Damiano demanded tautly.

‘Oh, don’t be stupid!’ Eden exclaimed, still outraged by what she had learnt from seeing those photographs. ‘I’m just so annoyed that I didn’t have the wit to get in touch with the family legal firm and order my own investigation years ago!’

Crossing the room, Damiano reached for her tightly clenched hands. He closed his fingers over hers. ‘Eden…?’ he prompted grittily. ‘I’ll beg if you want me to.’

Her hands relaxed in the grip of his. She forgot all about the photographs as finally she allowed herself to fully appreciate that the nightmare was over. Happiness began to surge up where once there had only been fear and anxiety. She looked up at him and collided with shimmering eyes that made her heart sing. ‘Would you beg?’ she could not resist asking with considerable curiosity.

‘Per amour di Dio…’ Damiano murmured with ragged stress, almost crushing the life from her smaller hands. ‘Could you doubt it after what we were to each other in Italy, tesora mio? Don’t you know that even if it had been you in that photo, I would have come back to you?’

‘Really?’ Eden gazed up at him with shaken eyes.

‘Now you’re being stupid…’ Damiano muttered with roughened tenderness, gathering her into his arms and releasing his breath in a pent-up hiss. ‘I only came back to London because I was afraid of wrecking what we had found together.’

‘An excess of tact doesn’t become you…or suit me. I would have preferred you to stay and talk,’ Eden confided, her mouth running dry and the breath shortening in her throat.

Being pressed into intimate connection with his lithe, powerful physique awakened little quivers of responsive heat in what felt like every inch of her body. A very feminine smile curved her lips as he shivered against her, his heated male arousal something he could not conceal from her.

‘Sì…’ Turning up her face, Damiano appraised her with scorching golden eyes and then, linking his hands with hers again, he groaned unevenly. ‘I have missed being with you so much. Could we complete this conversation upstairs, cara mia?’

Eden pretended to consider his request and tilted her head to one side. Her eyes danced with provocation.

With a censorious growl, Damiano responded by sealing his hot demanding mouth to hers. Soaring excitement laced her haze of joyous happiness. He released her long enough for them to reach the hall and start up the stairs, but a couple of minutes were lost on the landing when the temptation to kiss again proved too much for both of them.

Damiano deposited her on the bed in the dark oak-panelled master bedroom. Eden kicked off her shoes. ‘Can’t you just imagine this room lit by fire-light in winter?’ she whispered, studying him with dreamy eyes, clasping her hands over her still flat tummy and deciding that she would tell him about the baby after they had made love.

Damiano gave her a slanting grin. ‘I like you in all kinds of light. I’m not at all particular in that direction.’

Her heart just jumped at the innate charm of that smile.

‘Daylight, moonlight, lamplight, total blackout…’ Damiano enumerated in mocking addition, tugging loose his silk tie and removing his jacket with a decided look of intent that made her tense with anticipation. ‘I can’t believe you’re not throwing me out—’

Eden lifted a slim shoulder in an attempt to emulate one of his slight fluid shrugs. ‘I could still be considering it—’

Still half dressed, Damiano came down on the bed and cupped her cheekbones with his spread fingers. ‘Don’t tease,’ he urged feelingly, lustrous dark eyes pinned to her tender smile in raw approach. ‘I have no sense of humour whatsoever when it comes to the idea of losing you.’

She turned her lips into his hand and kissed his palm. ‘That cuts both ways,’ she said a little shakily.

Their eyes met, hot gold into anxious green, and suddenly they were kissing each other breathless with the kind of electrifying mutual hunge

r which brooked no denial. Eden wrenched at his shirt buttons at the same time as he attempted to deprive her of her blouse. With a groan of frustration at their colliding manoeuvres, Damiano pulled back and ripped off his shirt, sending a couple of buttons flying in his eagerness to discard it.

‘Not very cool, Mr Braganzi—’

‘Not feeling cool at all,’ Damiano confided without hesitation, extracting her from her blouse and disposing of her bra.

He pressed his mouth hotly to the exposed slope of one small breast, succumbed to the lure of a pouting pink nipple and lingered there to tease her sensitive flesh with erotic mastery. She writhed under his attentions, possessed by a frantic craving that drove her on like a fever. He ran his hand up the extended length of one slender thigh, driving her wild with anticipation. She closed her hand into his hair, dragging his mouth back to hers again, straining up to him as his tongue delved hungrily into the tender interior of her mouth, leaving her quivering helplessly in reaction.

‘I can’t wait to be inside you, cara,’ Damiano swore raggedly as he pushed up her skirt and deftly removed her panties.

‘Don’t wait…’ Her every nerve-ending felt tightly stretched. She was so hot, so excited, she couldn’t keep still. Her own impatience was unbearable. She wanted him; she wanted him now.

Damiano studied her with smouldering eyes of desire. She rocked up against him and his brilliant eyes suddenly flared stormy gold. He pulled her under him and sank into her with one bold, hungry thrust. For an instant she was shocked by the sheer surge of wanton pleasure. And then her hunger for him took her over again, wild and uncontrollable and torturously sweet as the lithe male dominance of his body over, and in, hers. Her heart was racing as he drove her higher and higher, her whole being centred on reaching that ultimate plateau. The explosion of ecstatic pleasure splintered through her with unforgettable strength and then dropped her slowly again back into the hold of her body.