'What did you say to Aunt Marion when you took her upstairs?'

'I told her to behave herself.’

‘That's all?' She began pressing up against him.

'Well, I was a little firmer than that.'

'Firmer than this?' Richard loved how sexy she made him feel. He wrapped his legs around her and drew her in as close as was physically possible. This was one woman he did not want to lose. One loss was enough. Hadn't he had enough death by now? If there was a God, wouldn't He judge that Richard Thorn had had enough sorrow in his life?

He was happy now, finally. So happy, in fact, that he allowed himself to fantasize that things would stay forever just as they were. With Ann, and Mark, and Damien. With Ann, it had been virtually love at first sight, and it had stayed that way so far. So far, so good. He had loved Mark at first sight, too. He hadn't been able to get to the hospital for the birth—it had happened so swiftly and prematurely—but he did see his first, and only, son when he was but a few hours old. Tiny and new and sleeping soundly against his mother's breast. Richard's love for and pride in Mark had increased with the years.

With Damien, it had been more difficult. For a long time, Damien had reminded Richard of his dead brother, and he almost resented the child for that. But as the years went by, he came to love Damien as his own son and to take pride in the boy's accomplishments and growth.

'Damien's such a good kid,' murmured Ann, seeming to read his mind again. 'Why does Aunt Marion hate him so much?'

'Don't know, honey,' he replied.

'She upset you, too, didn't she?'

‘The evening wasn't exactly a social triumph.'

'I don't mean that,' said Ann, rising herself up on one elbow. With her free hand, she gently traced the outline of his face. 'She stirs up all your old memories of your brother, doesn't she?'

Richard tensed. There were some things he revealed to no one, not even his wife. 'I'd rather not talk about it.'

Ann let it pass. She probed because she cared, but she knew when to stop. Her eyes suddenly took on a mischievous twinkle. 'Maybe if she'd gotten married, she wouldn't be such an old witch.' She slid back down against him.

'Amazing what a good man can do,' said Richard, as he moved to get even closer.

She held him off for just one more second. 'Promise?' she asked with that little-girl look in her eyes that he found he was unable to resist.

'I promise,' he said, reaching to turn off the light. 'No more Aunt Marion.'

***