No Gentle Possession Read online

  "Nonna," Daniel called, "Aunt Zeno fell." "She's always falling... or something," Sophie agreed calmly.

  "Ohh!" Zen pushed against Damon with all her strength. "I can walk, you big oaf," she snapped. His eyes riveted on hers, he let her legs drop to the ground, but he continued to hold her close with one arm.

  "You were shaken in the fall. I saw it," Damon insisted, staring tenderly down at her. "I was coming up the drive in my car."

  Sophie who was strolling toward them, heard his comment. "And you drove your car over my best rambling roses, too." She pointed disdainfully toward the Ferrari, which was parked in the middle of the rose bed. "Usually she manages to get you, Damon, my son, but this time she got my roses." Sophie glanced placidly at the boys, who were watching the adults. "You must be hungry, boys. Come inside. Lona has cool drinks for you." She shepherded them in front of her, not looking back.

  "Your mother has a way of twisting reality to suit her own purposes," Zen observed.

  Damon shrugged. "She may not be tactful, but she is kind."

  "Kind of what? Kind of nasty? Kind of spiteful? She never stops making remarks about... about my...'

  "Clumsiness?" Damon suggested.

  Zen lifted her chin defiantly. "Now, listen here, Damon Aristides. I'll have you know that I never had the least trouble when I was living in Ireland."

  "I wonder why that is," he mused, his eyes making an intent study of her hair. "Do you know your hair is fiery in the sunlight?"

  "I never had the least problem hitting people, falling on... My hair?" She lifted a hand to her head, feeling how the waves had tightened into ringlets. "I'm a mess. I'd better take a shower." The quaver in her voice annoyed her.

  "You should," Damon agreed, taking her arm and holding it close to him. "I'll go with you. I want to shower and change, too."

  As they entered the door at the back of the house Damon curved his arm around her waist and kept it there as he led her through the kitchen, where he spoke to Lona and a heavy woman he called Maria. "Here." He opened a door, showing Zen a back stairway.

  She could feel him behind her as they climbed the stairs, almost as though his arm were still around her. All at once, with blinding clarity, she remembered herself as the young woman who had sought the touch of Damon Aristides, who wasn't happy unless his strong hands were caressing and arousing her to fierce intensity. Sucking in her breath, she began taking the stairs two at a time.

  "Easy... take it easy, Zen." His warm breath tickled her neck as a strong arm clasped around her middle.

  "I don't need help." She tugged at his fingers, finally freeing herself as they reached the upstairs hall that led to the wing where the boys' rooms and hers were located.

  Damon's apartment was reached through double doors that led to his private corridor. His was the largest section of the house and totally separate from the sleeping quarters of the rest of the family and guests.

  "What's wrong with you now?" He rubbed the back of his hand, his eyes narrowing on her. "You're like an emotional chameleon. I never know what mood you'll be in next."

  "Then ignore me." She whirled away from him, her emotions in chaos. But an iron hand reached out, and Damon pulled her back against him, his two hands coming up and around to cup her breasts, his mouth lowering to her neck and nibbling there.

  "Damn you, Zen," he muttered, his right hand leaving her breast to raise her chin. He found her mouth, and his tongue penetrated to tease hers and touch the inside of her lips before he took full, demanding possession. His other hand slid, palm flat, fingers spread, to the small of her back and pressed her intimately against him. "Damn you, Zen," he repeated.

  He released her abruptly, and she staggered, disoriented. Then he was striding toward the double doors, calling over his shoulder, "Melissa is coming to dinner tonight. She wants to meet David." The doors slammed behind him, the sound echoing down the oak-paneled hall, freezing Zen in place.

  "That... that... lecher!" She stood immobilized, rubbing her mouth, not able to still the tremors that wracked her body. "If he touches me again, I'll..." Drawing in a shaky breath, she turned blindly toward her room.

  Her movements were stiff as she took off her clothes and selected fresh under things to bring into the bathroom. As she stood under the shower spray, lathering her body and shampooing her hair, she considered ingenious ways of taking care of Damon Aristides.

  She was sitting in front of her mirror putting on her makeup when she decided to weight him with granite and drop him in Long Island Sound.

  "Why are you smiling, Aunt Zeno?" David asked from the doorway. She looked up to see Daniel at his side.

  Zen turned on the vanity bench, her head still wrapped in a towel, and smiled at the two boys who were so alike yet so different. "I must have been thinking of you two if I was smiling. How did Lona manage to get you both dressed so fine?" Zen felt a twinge of annoyance at the worsted fabric of the boys' identical suits, but she pushed the emotion away. The pale blue tweed set off their bronzed skin and dark eyes. And if it gave Sophie pleasure to shop for them, Zen didn't have the heart to criticize her extravagance.

  David looked down at himself, then grimaced at his aunt. "Lona promised Dan and me two of the éclairs that Maria's making for dessert tonight." Zen laughed, and David looked puzzled. Then he frowned. "Uncle Damon says we're not to play rough with you. Did we hurt you, Aunt Zeno?"

  At the mention of Damon, Zen's body tensed. The man was diabolical! Even here in her own room he managed to assert himself.

  "You didn't hurt me," she assured David. "I enjoy playing soccer with you. I've told you that many times. Now come over here, the two of you." She held out her arms.

  David galloped over, but Daniel held back shyly, his tentative smile making Zen's eyes sting with the memory of her sister. She hugged both boys to her, then told them they could play on her bed while she got dressed.

  She watched them for a moment as Daniel pulled out cards and shuffled them dexterously, then dealt the deck for crazy eights, which he had taught David. Soon they were completely absorbed in the game.

  In her dressing room, Zen put on the straight, long, cream-colored skirt she had selected. With it she wore a lightweight sea-green wool sweater and medium-heeled pumps of sea-green kid. She chose a seed-pearl anklet, pearl drop earrings, and the pearl pinkie ring that had belonged to her mother.

  "I'm almost ready," Zen called to the boys as she entered the bedroom, checking to see that the posts on her earrings were tight.

  She stopped in midstream when she saw Damon seated on her chaise longue, his shoeless feet propped up on the ottoman, her jewelry box in his lap. "Where are your shoes? Where are the boys? And what are you doing with my jewel case?" she demanded, wishing her voice were stronger.

  Damon pointed to the door. "My shoes are there. The boys have joined their grandmother downstairs, and I wanted to see if you had any of Eleni's jewelry."

  Zen stalked across the room and removed her case from his lap, her anger rising close to the boiling point. "What I have or don't have is none of your—"

  "I was thinking about you walking barefoot on this fluffy carpet... nice, very nice." Damon crossed his arms on his chest and appraised her thoroughly.

  "Stop interrupting. What's nice?" Zen snapped.

  "Thinking about you walking barefoot... thinking about your naked body spread out on this carpet."

  Zen gasped at his audacity. "Isn't your fiancée waiting downstairs?"

  "Melissa and I are not formally engaged. I told you that." Damon settled himself more comfortably in the chair.

  "Leave my room." Zen pointed haughtily toward the door, but the gesture had little impact on Damon.

  "Do you have the pink sapphires that belonged to Eleni?" Damon asked, ignoring her demand.

  "I don't have any of Eleni's jewels." Zen spun around and replaced the jewel case on the dresser. At once, she sensed that Damon had left the chaise and come up behind her.

  "What do you mea
n?" he asked close to her ear. "All Eleni's gems belong to you. She had no daughter. Are you saying that her jewelry was never sent to you?"

  "Nothing."

  "Hmm. I'll ask my mother."

  "I'm sure much of what Eleni had belonged to the Aristides family, and your mother would want it to stay in the family."

  Damon's dark brows met over his nose, and his expression tightened. "I'm the executor of the estate. I will say who gets what."

  Zen was about to respond when the muscle jumping at the corner of his mouth warned her to say nothing. She didn't want to encourage an argument so close to dinnertime.

  "Come along. If we're going to join the others for a drink, we should go down now." He took Zen's arm under his, threading his fingers through hers with an intimacy that surprised her. When she tried to pull free, he tightened his hold and urged her toward the door.

  "Who?' Zen cleared her throat and tried again. "Who's coming to dinner besides your fiancée?"

  "I told you that Melissa and I are not formally engaged." He shot the words at her, making her blink.

  "So you did." Damn the man! Again Zen tried to free herself. Again Damon tightened his hold.

  "Pythagoras TELUS, my mother's old friend from Greece, has been staying in this country for some time now, checking into his widespread business interests here. He will be staying with us for a while, and of course he will be at dinner." Damon paused at the head of the stairs. "According to my mother, Thug, as he prefers to be called, was once a suitor for your mother's hand. He's a rich man with homes in California as well as in Greece and London."

  Zen stared at him in surprise. "What are you saying? That this man whom I never heard of was once my mother's boyfriend? How is it I've never heard his name mentioned?" Zen tried to picture a burly, tall Greek standing next to her statuesque mother.

  Damon urged her down the stairs without answering her question. "Melissa's aunt, Brenda Waite, will be joining us, as will another of my mother's friends from her school days in England, Maud Wills."

  "Delightful gathering," Zen murmured as they reached the last steps, "but shouldn't we hurry just a bit?"

  "Hurrying is very bad for the digestion," Damon said, looking down at her with a smile that seemed to illuminate the dim room.

  Zen felt as though her insides had turned to custard. She struggled to find something cool and sophisticated to say. "Really?" she managed.

  "Yes." He stepped onto the marble foyer, then turned to face her, not letting her take the last step down. They were almost eye to eye, but still Damon was taller. "It's ridiculous for a tall man to be involved with a small woman," he said as if to himself.

  "Yes, isn't it?" Zen agreed sarcastically.

  "Did I tell you that you look glorious in that outfit?" He bent toward her, his nostrils flaring as he took in her perfume. "Even though you're small, you have the loveliest breasts." His hand wandered around her waist and down her backside. "Not to mention the loveliest derriere I've ever seen."

  "Do... do you realize that someone could come out of the living room and see us?" Zen's voice was husky.

  Damon leaned away from her, his eyes dark and shining. "Why did you leave me?"

  Astounded, she stared mutely at him.

  "Ah, there you are, Damon," said Sophie, bustling over to them. "I see you've brought Xenobia with you." She hesitated as Damon stepped aside and she caught full view of Zen. "Ah... did you design that outfit, Xenobia?"

  "I designed the skirt, not the top," she answered, licking suddenly dry lips.

  "I see." Sophie looked from her son to Zen. "Well, come along. We mustn't keep dear Lisa waiting."

  Zen glanced suspiciously at Sophie but could read nothing in her expression. She nodded and came down the last step, trying to move away from Damon. But he stayed close to her, so that they entered the living room side by side.

  Zen paused on the threshold and said a silent prayer of thanks because for once the boys were quiet. They were playing cards on the coffee table.

  From the settee rose one of the most perfectly groomed women Zen had ever seen. Her black hair was caught in a bun, and a small smile was fixed on her patrician features. She and Damon were the tallest people in the room, making Zen wonder for a moment who the short, dapper man with black hair was.

  "Pythagoras TELUS," Damon whispered at her side.

  "It can't be," Zen whispered back, trying to keep her smile in place as she moved forward. "You said he was once a boyfriend of my mother's. Mother must have been a foot taller than this man."

  Damon chuckled. "Thug TELUS is a man of great personality."

  "Indeed," Zen managed.

  Damon moved from Zen's side toward the brunette vision. "Lisa, this is Xenobia Driscoll, Daniel and David's aunt. Zen, this is Melissa Harewell."

  "How do you do, Miss Harewell." Zen held out her hand and felt the cool smoothness of Lissa's soft grip.

  "How do you do, Xenobia," Lisa replied in carefully modulated tones. "Dear Mrs. Aristides has told me so much about you that I feel I know you already."

  "And you haven't armed yourself?" Zen smiled to soften her words and reached for a glass of champagne from a nearby tray.

  "Pardon me?" Lissa's deep blue eyes widened in perplexity.

  Sophie didn't look up from her position behind the silver tray of canapés where she was alternately feeding the boys and asking them questions about the card game.

  "Zen," Damon warned. He walked to Lissa's side and kissed the cheek she proffered. "Zen loves to joke," he explained.

  "Yes, she does," David surprised everyone by interjecting. "Once Seamus had a party where everyone had to dress like people from books." He paused to beam at his interested grandmother, his uncle, and the other adults. Knowing what was coming, Zen wanted to drop through the floor. "I was Grumpy," David explained, "one of the Seven Dwarfs. Aunt Zeno was Lady God-awful."

  "Does he mean Lady Godiva?" Lissa inquired politely.

  "I believe he does," Sophie replied smiling. "Ah... it's good for a child to be grounded in the classics."

  "Mother," Damon snarled, staring at Zen, a gray cast to his features making them look as though they'd been sculpted in concrete. Anger radiated from every line of his taut body.

  "I wore a body stocking," Zen mumbled, not looking at Damon, though she could feel his eyes burning into her.

  "Are you ill, Damon?" Lissa asked kindly.

  "Sick, yes." His eyes were still riveted on Zen. "You went to a party like that?" He seemed to be grinding out each syllable.

  "Isn't it diverting?" Lissa said with pleasure. "Where did you get the horse?"

  "Aunt Zeno whitewashed the donkey that Mr. Morphy uses to pull his knife-grinder's cart," David announced clearly.

  "How fitting!" Damon growled. "An ass on an ass." Lissa tittered. "Oh, Damon, you have such a sense of humor."

  Zen's hand closed tightly around her glass. "Yes, doesn't he?"

  "I do feel, Xenobia, that there is much you could learn about mothering a child," Lissa said. "How to set a good example, to begin with." She smiled.

  Zen ground her teeth.

  "And," the redoubtable Lissa continued, "I highly disapprove of card playing. Cards teach children to gamble."

  Zen drew herself up to her full five feet two inches, prepared to do battle for her twins. "Card playing is an excellent way to teach a youngster mathematics."

  "How droll." Lissa sighed, her domelike eyes shifting to Damon. "No one denies that the Irish are droll, but poor David needs help with pronunciation. I'm sure I can help with that, and with his arithmetic."

  "I'll have you know that people in some sections of Ireland are said to make the most perfect use of the English language." Zen took a deep breath. "And you know what you can do with—"

  "I think dinner is being served." Damon stepped forward and took Lissa's arm, turning her toward the door.

  "Come, boys," Sophie said. She sailed serenely out of the room, the boys and other guests trailing af
ter her, leaving a seething Zen standing furious and alone.

  Chapter 3

  Dinner did not go well for Zen. If the boys hadn't been there, she would have left the table. She found it most difficult to listen as Lissa continued to explain how to raise two boys who, unfortunately, happened to be twins.

  "Of course, everyone knows that one twin is always dominant." Lissa sighed as she looked at David and Daniel, who smiled back at her, then continued eating. "It would be a happier situation if Daniel were the dominant one, even though neither boy seems to have the superior intelligence of my nephew Leonard."

  "Now just a minute..." Zen struggled to control her temper.

  "The boys do as well as their father and uncle did at this age, perhaps a little better." Sophie hastened to interject, smiling at Lissa.

  Zen took a forkful of moussaka and gasped as the hot food burned her mouth. She grabbed her water glass and took long swallows.

  "They seem to have strange eating habits in Ireland, too," Lissa mused.

  "I like Ireland." David scowled. "Robbie lives there."

  "Of course, dear. We all like primitive places until we are older."

  "We do?" David looked puzzled, then glanced at his aunt. "Why is your face so red, Aunt Zeno? Is the food burning your mouth again?"

  "Something is burning me." Zen glared.

  When Lona came for the boys a few minutes later, Zen excused herself. "I always tell David and Daniel a story before bedtime," she explained.

  "That's a good practice when they are very young," Lissa pronounced brightly, but she held up a cautioning finger. "I do think, however, that at this age, when they are almost ready for boarding school—"

  "They are seven years old!" Zen expostulated.

  "Ah... true... but the sooner they have a strong scholastic environment—"

  "I'll see you in—"

  "I think it well for you to see to the boys," Pythagoras Telos interrupted. He had been silent during most of dinner, but now he took Zen's arm in a surprisingly strong clasp and led her into the hall, where he gave her a courtly bow, his eyes following after the twins as they and Lona went up the stairs. "How my Maria would have loved those boys," he said softly.