The Italian's Passionate Return by Elizabeth Lennox

Author:Elizabeth Lennox [Lennox, Elizabeth]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance
Published: 2014-06-15T12:00:00+00:00

Chapter 4

When the alarm went off, Jemma was already awake. She’d been awake for hours just watching the clock tick away the minutes. And now the time had arrived.

She pushed the sheets and blanket away, pushed her hair out of the way and forced her feet to lift her out of the bed. Jemma was exhausted, worried, excited, confused and….well, there were about a hundred emotions clanging through her mind right now. She couldn’t really figure out which one was stronger, but right at this moment, it didn’t matter. He would be here in less than an hour.

A shower helped. But not much. At least it helped her to look more human and less zombie-like. Dylan wasn’t a huge help though. There was no doubt what emotion was ruling him.

“Is he here yet?” he asked, poking his nose through the bathroom doorway, startling Jemma’s eyes back open.

She peered around the shower curtain, her eyes softening when she noticed how excited her son was. “No. He’s not here yet. But soon,” she promised him. “Go get dressed. He’s just as excited to see you!”

That had the boy hopping up and down, an enormous grin on his face. He raced out of her bedroom and came back in what seemed like only moments later with his shirt on and pulling a pair of jeans onto his legs. Of course, he was too excited to sit down while he put them on so he had one leg on and the other foot struggling to get through the other hole. In the end, he just fell onto the floor and pulled them on that way. Unfortunately, he decided to do that right in front of Jemma’s bathroom doorway so she pulled her towel off of the rack and dried herself inside the shower. It was warmer in there anyway.

“Did you hear that?” Dylan demanded and sprung up off of the floor. “I think that was him arriving!” he said and sprinted out of her bathroom.

Jemma sighed, wondering how she was going to get through the next half hour until he really did arrive. Dylan was about to pop out of his skin from excitement; she was ready to curl up into a ball, completely terrified of her reaction to Damien’s return.

Jemma heard the front door open. “Dylan?” she asked, rushing out of her bedroom, the towel still wrapped around her. “Dylan?” she called again when there was only silence.

She hurried through the house, worried now. But as soon as she stepped into the kitchen, she skidded to a halt. Dylan was grinning from ear to ear because he was in his father’s arms. Damien was standing in her kitchen looking perfectly tailored, cool and composed while she was trying very hard not to let the towel fall to the floor. “You’re here early,” she whispered, unable to get much more sound out of her throat.

“Only a few minutes,” he countered.

Jemma looked at the clock and groaned. He wasn’t early, she was running very late! “Goodness,” she mumbled and turned back around.

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