by Ann Cristy
"I know that." D'Arcy couldn't stop the tears from rolling down her cheeks. She welcomed their hugs and murmurings of love, needing their warmth.
"Something is wrong, D'Arcy. 1 can feel it," Henry said after Adelaide went to the kitchen for the coffee. "Can I help?"
"You are helping me by the way you care for Sean." She sighed and looked away from Henry's concerned gaze. "There is something bothering me, but I'd rather not talk about it now."
"Anything you say, my dear. You know your aunt and I love you as though you were our own."
"I know." D'Arcy's eyes moistened again. "I can never tell you how grateful I am for all you've done for me and for Sean."
"Child, don't you know by now that you brought life into our lives when Sean was born. We love him and I think that he loves us."
D'Arcy nodded, lifting her uncle's hand to her cheek.
On the train returning to Manhattan, she had twinges of guilt about not telling Henry and Adelaide that Keele was in truth Sean's father. She pressed a hand to her warm face. How could she ever explain that to them! Perhaps they wouldn't notice the resemblance when they met Keele, D'Arcy thought, not with too much hope.
She also felt guilty about leaving Sean for so many days, but she made up her mind that as soon as she had this assignment finished on Athene, she would tell Gregson Timms that she wanted some time off to be with her son. Columbus Day was coming up and Sean would have a long weekend. That would be ideal. Then she thought of what Keele would say about her being on Long Island, The hell with him! She gritted her teeth, knowing the rage he would be in when he found out about Sean being his son. Well, she would have to deal with that when the time came. Somehow, even if he hated her, she would make him listen. She had to make him listen. Depression wrapped her like a cloak.
The next morning when she left her hotel to walk to the Athene Building, the sun was shining. The day looked hand laundered but cold. She was standing at the entrance to the Athene wondering where she should breakfast.
"Good morning, D'Arcy." Keele's mouth swooped to hers.
The tenderness held her immobile before she broke free. "On a public street?" she asked, not looking at him, willing her hand to stop shaking as she pushed it through her hair, ruffled by the light but cold autumn breeze.
"No one even looked," Keele said, amusement threading his voice as he ran one hand down her cheek.
D'Arcy looked through her lashes at the hurrying New Yorkers, not one of them gazing her way. "Even so," she mumbled. "Goodbye, I'm going to eat breakfast."
"How sweet of you to invite me, love," Keele purred, taking her arm and leading her into the foyer of the massive building and nodding to the security man. He pressed the button on the private elevator which opened at once.
"I didn't know you came to work this early," she spattered, trying to pull away from his hand. "Will you let me go? I told you I haven't eaten yet."
"First, let me tell you my days usually start early. I have major responsibilities, my dove. Second let me tell you that I didn't forget your breakfast, that I called your hotel so that I could pick you up and take you out to feed you. That's what I'm doing now. My secretary will have had someone bring us some food. Of course I would have preferred to pick you up and take you somewhere other than my office.. .but I'm sure you'll get enough to eat." He smiled and ran the palm of his hand down her derriere. "Not that I want this any more rounded than it is. I don't."
D'Arcy jumped as though she had been scalded. Before she could say anything, the elevator opened to his office and to the large welcoming smile of his receptionist. D'Arcy could do no more than glare at him.
Humor twitched at his mouth and lit his eyes, making D'Arcy reel at the power of the man.
When she walked into his office and looked at the semicircle of windows, her first thought was how clear and uncomplicated the air looked, unlike her own life at the moment.
"I haven't had my kiss yet," Keele said at her shoulder before he spun her around into his arms.
"You did too..." The rest of her words were swallowed into his mouth. She felt the thrust of his tongue and her legs buckled under her.
Without removing his mouth, Keele swept her up into his arms and swung himself down into his leather chair, D'Arcy cradled against him.
There was no struggling against him or herself. He forced her deeper into his arms, demanding the response that she gave. Her heart felt as though it had leaped through her skin and was joined to the erratic rhythm of his. Her fingers knotted into his hair, trying to bring that head closer.
"Ahem, Mr. Petrakis, your breakfast is here. I tried to ring you, sir. I don't suppose you heard me," the secretary said in a flat voice.
Keele lifted his head, not releasing a gasping D'Arcy. Though his voice was steady and there was a smile on his lips, D'Arcy could hear the thunder of his heart under her face. "I suppose I didn't. Send them in with the food... and Gerta..." Keele levered himself to his feet, allowing D'Arcy to stand. "You can congratulate me. Mrs. Kincaid has consented to be my wife."
"Congratulations." The business smile turned to D'Arcy. "And best wishes to you, Mrs. Kincaid."
She loves him, D'Arcy thought. Her next thought was that the woman couldn't have him! D'Arcy was appalled at the anger that coursed through her. She wanted to hit the perfectly groomed Mrs. Olsen and roll her in mud.
"Ah, here we are. I hope this is good. My fiancée has an excellent appetite," Keele said to the white-coated attendant.
"How about your own appetite?" D'Arcy shot back, surprised and pleased when Keele threw back his head and roared with laughter, then caught her close to himself, holding her with a casual possessiveness that made the food server smile knowingly.
Mrs. Olsen marched into the office carrying a silver tray, in a ritualistic way that made D'Arcy's teeth come together.
"I'll make the coffee, Mrs. Olsen," she said in firm tones.
Perfectly pencilled brows rose in question as Gerta Olsen looked at her employer, but answered D'Arcy:
"But Mr. Petrakis likes his coffee a certain way."
"I think I can muddle through," D'Arcy said through her teeth.
Keele looked away from the breakfast tray at the sound of her voice. His gaze touched Gerta, then went back to D'Arcy. "My fiancée will make the coffee. Thank you, Gerta. That will be all."
The woman inclined her head toward her employer as he stared at her.
"Come along, darling," Keele said to D'Arcy. "The eggs are just the way you like them." He coaxed her from the coffee pot.
"How do you know how I like them?" she asked, her throat drying at the look in his eyes.
"I remember what Maria told me when I asked her what you like to eat."
"You asked Maria what I liked?" D'Arcy asked, her mouth agape.
"Of course, I wanted to know what kinds of food Maria would have to begin stocking in the house for your visits."
"My visits?" D'Arcy whispered.
"Yes. And dammit, stop repeating everything I say, like some tropical bird."
"I'm not your bird," D'Arcy riposted weakly, making Keele laugh before he crossed the room and took her arm to lead her to the table.
"Yes you are. You're my bird, my fiancée, my wife, my woman. You're all the women in one to me, D'Arcy. Nothing can change that." He put a delicately scented lemon marmalade on a triangle of toast and fed it to her.
Don't bet on it, D'Arcy thought, chewing on the toast and watching him tackle the bacon and eggs in front of him.
"The coffee is good, D'Arcy. Who taught you to make Greek coffee."
"There are recipes books," she snapped, feeling the blood run up her cheeks when he chuckled and traced her jawline with one finger.
"So, my dove, you wanted to know how to please me too?" Keele grinned, then put one finger over her lips. "Don't bother denying it. I like the thought of your wanting to please me."
"You won't always be pleased with me, Keele, any more than I'll always be pleased with you,"
D'Arcy hedged. Suddenly she felt sick. How quick, too quick she'd been to announce to Sean that he would have a father. And when Keele found out the truth of Sean's birth, he might be too furious with her to marry her. She thought she was coming to know this untameable English-Greek she had agreed to marry. He would consider her silence all those years as to her whereabouts and the birth of Sean a blow to his pride, a deep insult. He would not be able to forgive her. D'Arcy moaned inside herself.
"What is it, D'Arcy? Is the coffee too strong for you? You have the look of someone who has something bitter in her mouth."
"Coffee's fine," D'Arcy mumbled around the toast she pushed into her mouth, not able to talk with him at that moment.
Just when they were both finishing, a light on his desk flashed.
"Yes?" Keele answered, nodding. "Yes, I'll take it." He turned from the phone. "Darling, I have to take this call..."
D'Arcy lifted her hand, palm out. "I understand. I'll just go down to my own office. Thanks for the breakfast." She started to leave, when Keele reached out and fastened onto her wrist.
"Not without my kiss." His gold eyes were lava hot as he pulled her round the desk and down to him.
She resisted when the kiss lengthened and he tried to pull her into his lap. "No, you'll never take your call if I don't leave now."
He released her reluctantly, his eyes narrowing for a moment before he shrugged. "You're right. I'll see you in a little while."
D'Arcy left the office without even looking in Mrs. Olsen's direction, afraid she would poke her tongue at her.
Once at her own desk, she tried to make sense of the notes she had taken but found she could only concentrate on Sean and what steps she would have to take to insure that Keele's temper did not touch him.
She was sitting with her head pressed into her hands, her elbows on the desk, and didn't hear the door open.
"Hey, lady, what's the problem?" Steve's voice penetrated her fog and she lifted her face to stare at him. "D'Arcy, what's wrong?" Steve hunkered down beside her desk, gazing at her with a creased brow.
"It's nothing. I've just been worrying about my son." She tried to smile, but her rubber-stamp lips wouldn't hold the curve.
"I think you're worried about Keele Petrakis, too. I've seen..." Steve paused, as D'Arcy's left hand splayed on the desk and he caught the green glitter on her left hand. "Wow, that's beautiful. Are you engaged to Keele?" His question was a little stiff.
"Yes, at this point I am, but I don't know how permanent it will be."
"Are you worried that Keele won't want your son around?" Steve frowned, curiosity flitting across his face. "If so, I can tell you that he always seemed to be on good terms with his nephews and nieces and his friends' children. I've seen him often with kids around him." Steve lifted one hand to her cheek, his fingers soothing.
"They do say that Greeks love children." D'Arcy tried to smile.
"And so do the English... and Keele is English, too. He was born and raised, schooled and formed in England," Steve added, pulling her to her feet and leading her to the window. The antlike people on the street below scurried to and from their holes.
Sighing, D'Arcy leaned her forehead on the cool glass. "Somehow he always seemed pure Greek to me... or is it pure womanizer!"
Steve laughed, putting his arm around her. "He is pretty strong stuff where the women are concerned. It isn't all his fault. You should see the women throw themselves at him." Steve leered down at her. "I try to catch his fallout."
D'Arcy looked up at him, not trying to move away from that comforting arm. "Oh, I don't imagine you have too much trouble."
He laughed. "No, but I don't draw the high-powered stuff that Keele does."
"Ahhh, poor baby," D'Arcy said, feeling her spirit lift a little. "And I'm sure that there are only ugly women working at Keele Industries and Athene Ltd."
Again he laughed and D'Arcy chuckled with him. "Have you seen my secretary, D'Arcy? A very ugly woman, indeed! Along the lines of Gerta Olsen," Steve growled, leaning down toward her. He didn't have to lean far since D'Arcy was tall. For a moment their faces were almost touching.
"Am I interrupting?" The cast iron in Keele's voice was cloaked in velvet.
D'Arcy gave a start and whirled to stare at him, open mouthed at the heat leaping in those topaz eyes. The violence came off him like a charge. She had the feeling that the fine hairs on her body were lifting and leaning toward him. She swallowed, tossing words around her mind like spilled gum balls. She had a skin-prickling certainty that the wrong words would catapult him across the room like a missile.
"Steve was telling me about his secretary," D'Arcy said in measured tones.
"Was he?" Keele's voice was still soft. He aimed those eyes at Steve. "Leave."
"Now, Keele..."
"Leave, Linnett, while you can still walk."
Chapter 5
D'arcy clenched and unclenched her hands, staring at Keele, anger warring with caution. Anger won. "What's the matter with you? Talking to Steve like you might punch him or something!"
"I meant exactly what I said. I won't tolerate your being with other men, D'Arcy." He fired the words at her like bullets.
"You're crazy," she hissed at him. "He was just talking to me. That's all. He saw the ring and assumed we were engaged."
"Then make sure he stays away from you. If you don't, I will."
"Stop talking like a street brawler," D'Arcy snapped, her hands and feet tingling from the look in his eyes.
All at once he laughed. "You have a way of hitting the nail on the head, my love. At one time I was a street brawler, on the streets of Athens, the year my father let me be a hand on one of his ships. I had to learn to fight or die, so I fought in Hong Kong, Yokahama, Honolulu, San Diego, you name it."
His eyes seemed to glaze over, his lips tightened, his jaw stiffened.
D'Arcy could tell he wasn't seeing her for a moment and that all his memories were not pleasant. "I thought you went to Oxford."
"I did that too. My mother was a fanatic about education." His face softened.
"You were close to her."
"I was close-to them both. They loved each other and when I got over the shock of losing them together, I realized that it was best they went together. They were so much a part of one another. I always felt wanted, but I always knew, too, that they loved each other deeply. My father was piloting their plane. He was just taking her up for a short ride because they never flew together, always separately, so that if anything happened to one, the other would be alive to care for me. The engine failed on takeoff. The plane cartwheeled into some trees and burned." Keele looked away from her, his throat working. "Anna was very supportive to me, but I was twenty and had a good knowledge of the business. As soon as I finished my schooling, I started taking over. It was a natural for me. I love it."
D'Arcy stared at that rocklike profile and knew how much of himself he had poured into the business that his father and mother had loved. As though she could see inside him, she sensed the love he had had for his parents. God, she thought in despair, I don't need a reason to love him any more than I do.
He swung his head around like a bull facing an enemy. "We are .marrying this month."
"What?" D'Arcy squeaked. "What did you say?"
"You heard me. I'm not having you involve yourself with any other men. When we're married, I'll see to it that you don't."
"You're a crazy Greek!" D'Arcy gasped. "You're insulting me." Her hand itched to belt him in the mouth. "You... you talk as though I'm some kind of a wanton."
"Do you know what Greek fire is, D'Arcy?" he asked, his tones silken.
"Yes... yes I know what it is. It's some kind of oil mixture the Greeks used, then ignited and threw at the enemy like a missile," she finished, her voice fading at his look.
"It was an incendiary missile all right, but no one knows the exact materials the Byzantine Greeks used. The Greeks are very inventive when it comes to burning their enemies, D'A
rcy. If any man comes near you, I'll see to it that he is badly burned." His smile looked hammered onto his face.
"Are you threatening me?" D'Arcy asked, angry and ill at ease all at once.
"However you take the meaning, my love, I think you understand me."
"I won't be intimidated. I went through that once. I won't ever again, not if you kill me," D'Arcy gulped.
With one quick stride, he was beside her, pulling her into his arms. "Perhaps you don't understand me. You will never need to fear me, darling, but I will let no man touch you. I don't think you could ever make my angry enough to want to strike you. I want this lovely body unmarred. Didn't you know that?" His kiss was short and hard. "We'll go out to shop and order your wedding gown," he snapped. "Right now!"
"I have work to do," D'Arcy mumbled, her voice thready.
"It can wait." Keele put her camera on the file cabinet and held her jacket ready for her.
"I can't get married that fast. Henry and Adelaide don't even know you. Sean isn't used to the idea..."
"He'll get used to me. Besides, if he's like any normal boy, he'll want brothers and sisters."
"Brothers and sisters," D'Arcy echoed, letting him guide her into the private elevator. She wished the ride would take forever. Perhaps then she would find a way out of the muddle. The ride took mere seconds.
"I want a family," Keele said, leading her toward the gleaming silver Ferrari that was parked in the space marked Director. "I'm sure you do as well. We'll live wherever you choose, but I'd like the boy to visit Keros at least once a year. It's healthy there. He'll get to meet and know the family and learn to fish and water-ski and sail. There, he'll learn the business from the ground up as I did."
"The business?" D'Arcy croaked, finding no comfort in the plush gray upholstery as the car crawled through Manhattan. She was hardly aware when Keele stopped the car and parked. She jumped when he reached in her door to hand her out of the car. He led her into a salon with subdued lights and cream and beige decor, soft music coming from invisible speakers around the walls. The ceiling was draped with beige satin much like a sultan's tent. A soignée woman floated up to them, her eyes on Keele. He spoke to her in French.