by Ju Ephraime
Wonderful Acclaim goes to Ju Ephraime’s
TEMPTATION TO SIN
“A passionate and romantic love story with strong characters and passionate scenes…Ju Ephraime has done it again. The story is fast paced, character driven, and it leaves you wanting for more.”
--U.S. Reviews
“Even though the book is quite erotic and sexual, it has a very strong romantic story. The erotic scenes are very real and quite earth shaking. This is a tantalizing tale that will keep you turning the pages!”
--Readers Favorite Book Reviews
“This book is a unique and thrilling work of romance, highly recommended."
--Midwest Book Review
“Passionate, fresh, and witty…A delightful read!
Ju Ephraime is definitely an author to watch!”
--The Editor
CHECK OUT OTHER TITLES
by Ju Ephraime
A State of Ecstasy
Temptation to Sin
Loving Therèse
The Man in the Black Top Hat
Available at bookstores everywhere or at:
http://www.envisionschoolpublishing.com
The Odor of Violet
By
Ju Ephraime
ENVISION Business & Computer School Publishing Connecticut
Ju Ephraime 3
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
ENVISION Business & Computer School Publishing
An Imprint of ENVISION Business & Computer School, LLC
23 Kimberly Avenue
West Haven, CT 06516
Copyright 2012 by Julia E. Antoine
ISBN: 13: 9780983602972
http://envisionschoolpublishing.com
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. For information address inquiries to, ENVISION Business & Computer School, 23 Kimberly Avenue, West Haven, CT 06516.
Printed in the U.S.A.
ISBN-13: 978-0983602972
EAB-10: 0-9836029-7-2
LCCN: 2012947771
If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as "unsold and destroyed" to the publishers, and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this "stripped book."
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
This book would not have been written but for the persistent requests from my readers and especially my two daughters, who fell in love with Damien and wanted to know what became of him and Lisa.
In writing this book, I owe endless gratitude to several people, but especially to my daughter, Storme, who although bogged down with her legal studies, took time to edit the book, not once, but twice in order to have it to the publisher on schedule. Special thanks also go out to my editor, Devin whose encouraging words I always wait for, anxiously. And to my readers, who take the time to buy my books. To them, I dedicate this book.
Enjoy, with lots of love!
Ju
The Odor of Violet
The Odor of Violet
Ms. Andrews walked into the room, and Damien felt the air leave his lungs. He could not see her, but he felt Jake’s reaction also. He was not certain if he was mirroring Jake’s reaction to the candidate or his own overactive imagination. Whatever the reason, he had a physical reaction to whomever it was that walked into his library. She was polite and calm, and he sensed she had a smile on her face because Jake had an answering smile in his voice when he greeted her. Poor Damien, he couldn’t see a thing, but boy, was he aware of her. He could smell the fragrance she was wearing, and it was doing strange things to his body.
There was a hint of jasmine, mixed with a bit of musk, but the overwhelming scent was of violet. He recognized the scent because of the perfusion of violet plants that grew in the garden surrounding his house.
It was his favorite flower. He was never tired of sitting on the porch just inhaling its heady fragrance.
On Ms. Andrews, the fragrance was positively intoxicating. The mixture of violet with her unique scent was overpowering. Damien was almost in pain from the strength of his physical reaction to her. He was uncomfortable in his seat and kept fidgeting and moving to get a more comfortable position. He did not want either Jake or the young woman to notice his discomfort. He desperately wanted to see the woman who was in his library, but he had to be content with just listening to her responses to Jake’s questions.
She sounded a bit flustered because she would begin each response with a slight nervous laugh, and Jake would respond in kind. This exchange between the two infuriated Damien, who wanted to participate in the conversation. He interrupted one of Jake’s questions to her with one of his own.
“Tell me, Ms. Andrews, how long have you been out of school?”
One
Damien Falconer muttered to himself as he felt his way along the walls of his library. He would not allow the loss of his eyesight to deter him, but sometimes he had to admit his expectations for himself were far too ambitious.
Nevertheless, he’d been able to maintain a brave front and refused to accept the label of handicapped. He would not sit back while he watched his life go by. When he looked back to the day his life changed, Damien could not help but ask, “Why me?”
It’d been two years since his accident, two long years of feeling sorry for himself. During that time, he’d done everything in his power to adjust his lifestyle to accommodate the loss of his eyesight. Having retreated to an inner world where no one could intrude, he was determined not to let the world see his vulnerability. He’d tried to maintain his daily routine, to put on a brave face, but in the privacy of his room, he allowed himself the luxury of a bit of self-pity.
He was most vulnerable in the privacy of his room. In the quiet hours of the morning, just before dawn, the feeling of despondency overwhelmed him, and he wanted to lash out at someone in his frustration. He missed his old life. He used to love riding his horse, Flame, when he visited his vast property in the foothills of Black Mountain in the piedmont of North Carolina. Before the accident, Damien had been an avid sportsman who enjoyed the outdoors. He hunted and fished in the lake adjacent and often had his best friends—Jason, Mark, and Philbert—over for long weekends of hunting and fishing. They would cook the spoils of their efforts on the barbecue pit outside his lodge. They often stayed the entire weekend at the lodge and did not visit the main house, except for emergencies, like the time when water flooded the basement of the main house from a broken pipe.
They’d all pitched in and repaired the damage because the one local plumber had been unavailable. It had been hilarious, he and his friends trying to read the plumbing manual while they repaired the pipes. Those were the good old days. It had taken several tries, but they eventually got the thing fixed, and they did not return to the lodge that weekend.
Since the accident, he had lived his life in almost total seclusion, allowing very few visitors to his home. He had purposely limited the number of visits from his friends. Although he could not see their faces, he sensed their pity because they behaved differently around him.
Jason and Mark were both in committed relationships, and Philbert was busy “searching for love.” They had moved on, and he was now dependent on the help of his personal assistant, Jake.
Jake had been his accountant and secretary before the accident, but after the accident, his role had changed because Damien refu
sed to allow anyone else to see him in his most vulnerable state; Jake had become his right hand. He helped him when he had to take a shower by placing the soap and towel within easy reach so that he did not injure himself trying to get to them. Jake also assisted him in getting dressed. He could no longer shave or dress himself. That had been the most humbling experience for him, a man who before had always prided himself on his independence.
Actually, everything he wore had been selected by Jake because Damien no longer cared about his appearance. He was aware that Jake was not too thrilled with his new role and that he would much rather be adding up numbers in his office. However, he had agreed to help Damien until he got his sight back, as his doctors felt he should someday. Trouble is, they just did not know when.
In the meantime, Jake had given his word that he would do his best in his new role, and he was a man of his word. He had put off taking a trip he had been planning for several years now to visit his paternal grandfather in Scotland. Just yesterday, he’d received a phone call from his grandfather asking him when he would get to see him.
Jake could not give him a definite answer because he felt obligated to Damien. He would not leave until Damien had accepted the fact that he needed a more qualified aid. Then he would be able to return to his former role of being just the accountant.
Damien knew how Jake felt about his new role, but he was just not comfortable allowing anyone but Jake to see him so vulnerable. He just could not accept the fact that he’d have to go through his personal routine with a complete stranger. It was for this reason he was trying to develop his other senses, practicing alone when no one else was around.
He knew his body was black and blue all over from the many falls he had taken and the various objects he had bumped into while trying to familiarize himself with his surroundings.
He had to admit, however, he had come a long way, but he still had a long way to go. He was
driven and kept doggishly at his grueling schedule. His daily schedule consisted of him going around and around his bedroom then back to the library, counting the steps and feeling his way around the furniture. After completing the tenth round of walking around the room, Damien would sit down, exhausted.
The mental and physical efforts needed to accomplish such a small task took a toll on him. As was often the case when he was tired and exhausted, he would go back in his mind to the night of the accident, questioning what, if anything, he could have done differently.
Two
He’d been working on an experiment to change the consistency of the wine they were producing, to help bring out the sweeter undertones. He wanted to introduce the new product to the market under a different label. He had been excited because the experiment was in the final stages, and so far, the few individuals who had tasted the new flavor all thought it was great.
He’d been deep in thought when he walked into the lab. At the time, he thought he’d heard the stove making a strange hissing sound. Believing it was the gas escaping, he had walked up to it and reached down to turn off the gas supply. All he remembered after that was a blinding blue flash and excruciating pain as if his entire face were on fire, and then he passed out. When he came to, his face was bandaged up. He had no idea he had lost the use of his sight until two weeks after returning home and the bandages had been removed
The morning the bandages were removed was the second worst morning of his life. He kept hearing voices and the doctor asking him if he could see how many fingers he was holding up, and he kept repeating, no. He remembered trying so hard to see the doctor’s fingers that he broke out in a cold sweat, and he’d passed out with the most excruciating headache.
Damien forced himself to relive the nightmare and fear of those first months as he’d tried to adjust to life without the use of his sight. It had been brutal. He had fallen flat on his face more times than he cared to remember and had constantly bumped into things.
His life had done a one-eighty degree turn. He required help with the most basic things, things he used to take for granted, but had now become an everyday challenge. He had to constantly ask for help with personal things, but more than that, he could no longer manage his property without the help of strangers.
He still marveled at the fact that it took three individuals to do a job he had been able to do single-handedly before. As a result, his home seemed to be crowded with people all the time, some he knew and some he did not. For a man who valued his privacy, it was unbearable; he no longer had any privacy at all.
His thoughts went back to the telephone conversation he’d overheard between Jake and his grandfather in Scotland. He knew Jake was planning to leave soon, and it was for this reason, he was redoubling his efforts to be more independent—to do more for himself. He did not want to have to depend on the help of a new personal assistant. He wanted to be prepared when Jake left. He was not a fool. He realized he would need someone to assist him in doing the things he could no longer do for himself, which is why he had Jake run an ad in the local paper, under the pretense that he was looking for someone to assist Jake so that Jake could have some free time.
He was not very particular about the qualifications. He had only one requirement—he did not want a woman. He was very adamant about this. He wanted a man, preferably a young man, in the event he had to replace Jake. He couldn’t see himself with a woman assisting him with his bath, shaving, and dressing all the things Jake did for him.
They were two weeks into the interview process, and so far, the pool of applicants had been mainly older men and middle-aged women. In his opinion, none had met his requirements.
According to Jake, there were four—two women and two men. He had decided to interview all four in one day. It was not brain surgery. The first two were the usual, older men with no families of their own, who were looking for a place to call home. He and Jake had a signal, which they had decided upon ahead of time. If he moved his head twice to the right, the applicant would not be asked for a follow-up interview. If he moved his head
once, then he was interested in giving a follow-up interview to that candidate.
As the morning progressed, he had moved his head twice on three times and was preparing himself for the fourth time. This applicant was a young woman in her late twenties from Connecticut. Her name was Lisa Andrews, and she had graduated from nursing school eight years before. Up until four weeks ago, she’d been working for a client who had recently passed away. She’d decided she needed a change of scenery and was looking forward to moving south. This position looked ideal for her, or so she’d stated on her application. He was only going to give her the courtesy of an interview because he was totally opposed to hiring a woman; that was until he met Lisa Andrews.
Three
Ms. Andrews walked into the room, and Damien felt the air leave his lungs. He could not see her, but he felt Jake’s reaction also. He was not certain if he was mirroring Jake’s reaction to the candidate or his own overactive imagination. Whatever the reason, he had a physical reaction to whomever it was that walked into his library. She was polite and calm, and he sensed she had a smile on her face because Jake had an answering smile in his voice when he greeted her. Poor Damien, he couldn’t see a thing, but boy, was he aware of her. He could smell the fragrance she was wearing, and it was doing strange things to his body.
There was a hint of jasmine, mixed with a bit of musk, but the overwhelming scent was of violet. He recognized the scent because of the perfusion of violet plants that grew in the garden surrounding his house.
It was his favorite flower. He was never tired of sitting on the porch just inhaling its heady fragrance.
On Ms. Andrews, the fragrance was positively intoxicating. The mixture of violet with her unique scent was overpowering. Damien was almost in pain from the strength of his physical reaction to her. He was uncomfortable in his seat and kept fidgeting and moving to get a more comfortable position. He did not want either Jake or the young woman to notice his discomfort. He desp
erately wanted to see the woman who was in his library, but he had to be content with just listening to her responses to Jake’s questions.
She sounded a bit flustered because she would begin each response with a slight nervous laugh, and Jake would respond in kind. This exchange between the two infuriated Damien, who wanted to participate in the conversation. He interrupted one of Jake’s questions to her with one of his own.
“Tell me, Ms. Andrews, how long have you been out of school?”
He knew the answer because Jake had briefed him on all the candidates ahead of time, but he wanted to ask her a different question to throw her off. She responded with the same little laugh.
“About eight years this month, and I can assure you, I have the experience needed to be your personal assistant.”
“We’ll see,” was all he could think of by way of a response.
He tried to tune out the sound of her voice and concentrate on Jake’s questions, but that proved to be very difficult because he found himself trying to interpret every nuance in her voice as if his very life depended on his understanding her. He became annoyed with himself and signaled for Jake to end the interview. This time he did not move his head, either once or twice. It was left to Jake to make the decision whether or not to have Ms. Andrews back for a second interview. Jake informed her that he would be getting back in touch with her after he had an opportunity to go over her paperwork and check out her references.