LITMIR.BIZ

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He had probably enjoyed every perverse moment, his supposed feelings of betrayed love being nothing but a bruised ego that his sexual possession might have dared turn to another man.

      By Sunday evening, Gemma found solace in a bitter determination not to fall apart over the bastard’s black treachery. He wasn’t worth it. So on the Monday morning she gritted her teeth and went back to work.

      From the first moment she walked into the shop, Gemma realised that the news of her separation from Nathan must have got around, because all the girls were extraordinarily nice to her, which was something new.

      When Byron had given her a job as a sales assistant in the more exclusive of his two city stores, Gemma had gradually noticed an underlying resentment from the rest of the staff. She supposed they thought her employment smacked of nepotism, even though she had quickly proved herself a very competent salesperson, her Japanese better than anyone else’s. Gemma believed she might have overcome her workmates’ underlying hostility if Nathan hadn’t vetoed her going out with them on social occasions.

      In the circumstances, she didn’t blame them for thinking she was a snob, so she was quite touched by their kindness to her that morning, and found it hard not to dissolve into tears. With a stiff upper lip and a lot of false smiles, she made it through the morning, but as one o’clock approached Gemma couldn’t wait to spend an hour sitting by herself in a park somewhere.

      At a couple of minutes past one she was walking through the hotel arcade, heading for the main exit, her eyes on the black and white tiled floor, when a man’s voice suddenly spoke from just behind her right shoulder. ‘Going my way, sweetheart?’

      Gemma ground to a halt and spun round, her startled brown eyes quickly filling with reproach. ‘Damian, you bad man. You shouldn’t sneak up on a girl like that.’

      ‘Sometimes it’s the only way,’ he returned drily. ‘Some girls don’t answer telephone calls.’

      Gemma coloured guiltily. ‘I’m sorry. I was going to ring you back, but I forgot. Truly. I...I was a bit of a mess over the weekend.’

      ‘I can imagine. Celeste filled me in on what happened last Friday night. Which is why I was so startled when Ava told me on the phone this morning that you’d gone to work.’

      ‘It seemed the best thing to do.’

      ‘I couldn’t agree more. I’m delighted to see you’re determined not to be down-in-the-mouth and dreary. Life’s too short to waste it mooning over bastards like Nathan Whitmore.’

      Gemma’s reaction was instant and quite absurd. She wanted to scream at Damian that he had no right to judge Nathan, that he knew nothing about him at all! Just in time, she controlled the quite irrational urge, recognising it as a hangover from what she had so very recently and stupidly believed in her husband and his love for her. ‘Yes, well, I’d rather not talk about Nathan, if you don’t mind,’ she said instead.

      ‘Your wish is my command.’ Damian took her arm. ‘What would you like to talk about over lunch?’

      Gemma felt a reluctant smile pull at her mouth as she was masterfully propelled towards the street. ‘Who said I was having lunch with you?’

      ‘You don’t want to have lunch with your poor old uncle?’ he replied teasingly.

      She laughed at this description of himself. Damian was only twenty-nine. He was also the epitome of ‘tall dark and handsome’, with the added elegance and style that being very wealthy provided. Most men would have looked good in the suit Damian was wearing. He looked fantastic. And he knew it.

      ‘Lunch is fine,’ she agreed. ‘But as I said, a mutual tongue-lashing of Nathan is out. I also don’t want to hear any sarcasm about Byron and Celeste being my parents.’

      ‘Hey!’ Damian put up his hands in mock defeat. ‘What do you think I am, an unfeeling monster? All I want is to have lunch with my very beautiful niece who, by the way, looks gorgeous with her hair up. You must wear it that way to the party this Friday night.’

      ‘P...party? What kind of party?’ Damian’s sweet flattery had been unacceptable. His inviting her to a party made her uncomfortable for some unaccountable reason. Were Nathan’s vile accusations about Damian still lingering at the back of her mind? It seemed the only reasonable explanation for her sudden unease. Or maybe her trust in the male sex in general had received such an incredible blow that it would be a long time before she could trust another man.

      ‘Just a dance party, Gemma,’ Damian explained with an indulgent smile. ‘They’re very popular with young people. A lot of my friends go to them. I thought it might make you feel better to get out and about, dance a little and meet some new people.’

      It did sound innocent enough. And Damian was her uncle. Why was she hesitating?

      ‘I...I’m not sure.’

      ‘Hey, no sweat. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do any more. You’re your own boss now, remember? Just think about it and if you decide you need some cheering up come Friday night give me a call.’ Smiling, he linked arms with her again. ‘Now let’s go to lunch before your hour is up and we haven’t had a thing to eat!’

      * * *

      GEMMA DID NEED cheering up by Friday night. Frankly, she needed cheering up a lot earlier than that.

      Work occupied her mind during the day, but come night time, Belleview was hardly a hive of distracting activity and conversation. Byron, quite rightly, was spending a lot of time with Celeste, courting her as he should have courted her all those years ago. And Ava, God love her, either disappeared into her studio with Vince or went out with him. Knowing Ava’s history, Gemma did not have the heart to spoil her fun at this glorious time in her life.

      So Gemma pretended to be quite happy staying home alone watching television, saying she was tired after being on her feet all day. Yet all the while she was getting more and more depressed. By the time Damian telephoned her on the Thursday night, it didn’t take much persuasion for her to say yes.

      * * *

      DAMIAN HUNG UP, not bothering to hide his devilish glee. No one could see him. Celeste had just left with dear old Byron, and Cora was out in the kitchen, clearing up after dinner.

      ‘At last,’ he muttered, and let his mind run free over how Friday night should pan out.

      Sweet little Gemma would have no resistance at all to the drugs he would slip into her drinks. In the end, she would have no resistance to him.

      Damian actually trembled with the anticipated pleasure of finally having her in his power. God, but he had waited months for this moment. Never had a woman possessed his brain and his body as much as Gemma had.

      From the first moment he’d seen her at that ball he’d wanted her, wanted her with a want that had gradually become an obsession. Her being his niece didn’t change a thing. If anything, it would add a delightfully perverse edge to the experience.

      Damian made his way slowly back upstairs while his thoughts raced feverishly on.

      He was going to have to be very careful the first time. He would have to seem to give her everything she was looking for, and obviously needing. Tenderness. Comfort. Love...

      Later, when she was totally addicted to the mindless ecstasy that the drugs and he could give her, he would introduce her to more refined pleasures. It was amazing the pain a woman could endure—and even welcome—when she was high on the right cocktail.

      He would have to video-tape everything, of course, once it got to that stage. Otherwise she might be tempted to tell someone after the drugs wore off. He couldn’t have that.

      Damian smiled. He might even make some money out of her. It wouldn’t be the first time. Amazing how much women were prepared to pay rather than have tapes of their sexual exploits posted to their husbands or their families. They never breathed a word, either. Damian considered it was ironic that it was Nathan himself who had

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