Full Bloom

discretion. In fact, the only safe way to manage it would be to keep the affair a complete secret.
    Emily shuddered, thinking of the logistics of trying to keep an affair with Jacob a secret from her family. Still, other people had secret affairs. History was full of such liaisons. It could be done. At least for a while.
    The doorbell rang just as Emily was wondering dismally how long she could keep an affair hidden from her ever-vigilant family. She would need Jacob's full cooperation, and he was not the most subtle of men.
    She walked to the door, expecting Jacob to be in the hall. He frequently showed up early for a date. It was flattering, but it was also a bit unsettling. Emily got the feeling Jacob enjoyed prowling around her apartment while waiting for her to finish dressing.
    Certain that it was Jacob ringing her doorbell, Emily opened the door without bothering to double-check the identity of her visitor. It was a shock to see who stood in the hall.
    "Damon!"
    "Hello, Emily." Damon Morrell smiled fleetingly as he stood looking down at her. The expression did not reach his blue-green eyes. His tawny brown hair was attractively ruffled, he was dressed in an expensive European cut jacket and slacks. Unlike Jacob, he wore a silk tie with aplomb. "May I come in?" he asked politely.
    "I'm about to go out," Emily explained, feeling extremely wary. She had been hoping to avoid a face-to-face confrontation with Damon. He was big, almost as tall as Jacob, although he did not give the impression of solidity that Jacob did. Damon had a leaner, wirier build. It was that build that enabled him to wear Italian fashions with consummate ease.
    "I want to talk to you."
    "Some other time," she suggested a little too brightly.
    "Now, Emily. I want to talk to you now. Tonight." Damon pushed open the door and stepped through into the hall.
    Emily's sense of uneasiness took a quantum jump. She instinctively backed off a couple of steps and then tried to hold her ground. Her chin came up angrily and her eyes narrowed. "What is this all about, Damon?"
    "That's what I'm trying to find out," he replied, closing the door behind him. "You've been avoiding me for nearly a week. I'd like to know why."
    "I don't owe you any explanations." Emily forced herself to speak calmly and quietly.
    "You're seeing someone else."
    "Am I?" Turn the question around. That was one of the tactics she had been taught in her assertiveness training course.
    He ignored that and strode past her into the living room. Emily watched helplessly, wondering how to go about throwing him out.
    "I would like you to leave, Damon." Emily stood stiffly in the hall and told herself she had to keep calm and in control of the situation.
    "Not until I get some answers." Damon crossed through the white-on-white living room and came to a halt near the window. He thrust his hands into his pockets and stood staring out at the street below. "You changed after you came back from Portland. You haven't accepted any of my invitations since your return. Something happened down there, didn't it? What was it, Emily?"
    "I'd rather not discuss our past relationship, such as it was," Emily said, calling on her training again. It would be better not to get into an argument with him. Better to keep things cool and businesslike.
    "What did you discover about me down in Portland that changed your whole attitude?" Damon prodded quietly.
    "I've told you, I don't want to discuss it. Please leave, Damon."
    "I'm not leaving here until I know what went wrong between us." He kept his gaze focused on the lighted street outside the window.
    Emily sighed. The part of her that had always dreaded confrontations was cringing now. But maybe the man did deserve an explanation. "I think you must know what went wrong."
    "Tell me."
    "I found out about a woman named Marcia, for one thing," Emily said bluntly. "I also found out that you had plans to use me to try to destroy Ravenscroft International. There—does that answer your questions?"
    Damon swung around to confront her. There was an expression in his eyes that Emily had never seen before. It was hard and angry. But when he spoke, his voice was remote. "I wondered if that might be it."
    Emily winced. "You're not even going to bother to deny it?"
    Damon shrugged. "There is a woman named Marcia, although she's not important."
    "I'll bet she'd be interested in learning that," Emily said scathingly.
    "Marcia is no innocent. She knows how the game is