Free Black Widow Bride by Tessa Radley

“I’m sorry, we overslept. Are we very late?”
    “No. I told Johnny to wait until you arrived so that you could have a hot breakfast.” Damon’s glance was cool, but he flashed a smile at T.J. before returning to his paper.
    Suppressing her hurt at his offhand attitude, Rebecca busied herself with stacking two cushions onto a chair and helped T.J. to clamber up before seating herself beside him.
    “I don’t want to put your staff to any trouble,” she said flatly.
    Damon’s face was wiped clean of all expression when he finally looked up. “Feeding the boy won’t be any trouble.”
    Rebecca noted wryly that he didn’t include her in the assessment. Her mouth slanting, she said, “Well, I don’t want to be any trouble. A little fruit, sliced apple perhaps, and coffee would be fine for m—”
    “The boy will require more sustenance than that,” he interrupted.
    A humiliating flush heated her cheeks at the rebuke. “Of course I wouldn’t expect T.J. to eat only that. But he doesn’t need a cooked breakfast either. Fruit and cereal will be fine.”
    T.J. chose that moment to utter hopefully, “Sc’ambed eggs, Mum? On toast?”
    The look Damon gave her spoke volumes.
    She ignored it and said firmly to T.J., “And apple slices.”
    “Okay.” T.J. gave her a sunny smile, aware of his small victory.
    Little monkey! She ruffled his curls. When she looked up, Damon was staring at her, a strange expression on his face. Before she could break the volatile silence, the door burst open and a petite wiry-haired brunette clad in jeans and a floral shirt rushed into the room.
    “You must be…Rebecca?” The newcomer’s English was accented, overlaid with an American drawl.
    With a shock Rebecca realised this had to be Demetra. She’d expected someone more restrained—more obviously Greek—than the young woman whose freckled, makeup-free face shone with good health. Rebecca smiled at her and got an answering grin. Then Demetra said, “And who is this handsome guy?”
    “My son, T.J.” Tensely Rebecca waited for the inevitable questions to follow.
    None did. Instead Demetra bolted around the table and sank down beside T.J. “What do you like doing most in the whole wide world?”
    “Playing trains.” T.J. gave her a euphoric smile and started making chuff-chuff sounds.
    “Uh, I don’t know that much about trains, but I betcha I’ll learn. I like digging in the garden more than anything else in the world.”
    “I like digging in the garden, also. But I like trains more.”
    Demetra laughed. “You’ll have to help me dig sometime. What kind of trains do you like?”
    “Thomas and Gordon are bestest—they’re blue.”
    “And blue is your favourite colour, right?”
    T.J. nodded.
    “You’ll have to introduce me to Thomas and Gordon right after you’ve had breakfast. For now, I’ll go chase Jane up.”
    “Jane?” Rebecca queried.
    “Damon’s chef. She comes in daily and cooks like a dream. Wait until you try—”
    “Sc’ambled eggs?” T.J. interrupted worriedly.
    “You want scrambled eggs, honey?”
    T.J. nodded emphatically. “An’ toast.”
    “Done!”
    Demetra rose and was already halfway to the door when Damon called her back. “Better ask Jane for some apple slices for the boy, as well,” he said drily. “And Rebecca would like coffee with her fruit.”
    “Okay.”
    Then she was gone.
    Rebecca blinked. That vital, vivacious creature was Demetra? Her heart lifted. She could see exactly why Savvas had fallen for her verve and warmth. She smiled at Damon—the first real smile since he’d erupted back into her life. “Demetra seems very nice.”
    “Nice?” Damon raised an eyebrow. “How you like that word.”
    Rebecca coloured and decided to ignore him. She stayed silent until Demetra returned at whirlwind speed, her arms piled high with plates for herself, Rebecca and T.J.
    By the time T.J. licked the last morsel of scrambled egg off his spoon, Rebecca was ready to explode