In A Dangerous Marriage, Julia Davenport’s social life has drifted into a backwater. Then she meets Peter Medea at a business reception in New York City. She is drawn by his aura of power and erotic magnetism and is lured into a hasty marriage. By indulging her compelling emotional and physical needs she finds immediate gratification, but at a devastating cost. Her romantic adventure turns out to be fraught with conflict and betrayal. And she becomes unwittingly involved in her husband’s shady business transactions, forcing her into unwanted intimacy with the sinister man who masterminds these schemes. She finds support in friendships with a victim of his fraudulent machinations, and others. She is nurtured and encouraged by a man who emerges from her past. But Julia alone must overcome the threats to her self-esteem, happiness, and well-being, which are the destructive consequences of her earlier surrender to passion.

Readers say this about A Dangerous Marriage –

Wow, what a page turner! Compelling and sexy, with the added intrigue of the nasty part of the financial world. Great story. —Constance Fulenwider

A Dangerous Marriage is extremely well written. The characterization is great – the reader comes to know the characters really well. I didn’t want it to end. —Natalie Lee

I loved A Dangerous Marriage. I really was glued to the plot and felt totally involved with the characters. It is written with great sensitivity and the story line moves along compellingly. This is a terrific novel! —Judy Bross

In A Dangerous Marriage, twenty-six-year-old Julia Davenport’s social life has drifted into a backwater. Then she meets Peter Medea at a business reception in New York City that she’s attending as a favor for a friend.

She is drawn by Peter Medea’s aura of power, apparent financial success, and erotic magnetism and is lured into a hasty marriage. By indulging her compelling emotional and physical needs she finds immediate gratification, but at a devastating cost. Her romantic adventure turns out to be fraught with conflict and betrayal. And she becomes unwittingly involved in her husband’s shady business transactions, forcing her into unwanted intimacy with Marco “Denny” DiNiro, the sinister man who masterminds these schemes. She finds support in friendships with a victim of DiNiro’s fraudulent machinations, and others. She is nurtured and encouraged by Danny Johnson, who has emerged from her past. But it is Julia alone who must overcome the threats to her self-esteem, happiness, and well-being, which are the destructive consequences of her earlier surrender to passion.

A Dangerous Marriage

By William W. Blunt

iUniverse, Inc.

Copyright © 2012 William W. Blunt
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4759-0563-2

Chapter One

The private upstairs room at 21 Club in New York City exuded a plush variety of elegance with its heavy burgundy damask curtains, brocade wall covering and busy, oriental carpets. As Julia Davenport and her escort for the evening entered, she saw groups of well-groomed men, most of them probably in their forties and fifties, dressed in somber colors except for the occasional flash of a yellow or red necktie, drinks in hand, engaged in serious discussion. A crowd of uniformed waiters, unobtrusive but efficient, bore platters of hors d'oeuvres and glasses of champagne on trays and filled orders for other drinks. A well-stocked mahogany bar attracted an intermittent stream of guests.

The men were joined by a few women in smart business outfits, professionals who had not had time to change after work. Then there were wives or other female companions. They seemed to be on display, like exotic, plumed birds, posturing as they hung on the outskirts of the men's conversations or chatted among themselves.

Tall and slim, with short, dark hair, Julia wore the only garment she owned that was suitable for evening: a black cocktail dress, a designer label that she found marked down twice at an upscale second-hand clothing store in Philadelphia. She hoped it would look sufficiently cosmopolitan for the occasion. In any event, in the presence of this crowd of complete strangers, she felt more like a spectator than a participant.

She had come with a man whom she had dated for a while during her last year of college. His call and invitation came as a complete surprise, but when he asked her to accompany him to a large dinner party in New York City, even though she couldn't afford to stay there overnight, she accepted with alacrity. She realized as she heard his invitation on the phone—she barely recognized his voice—that this could be the opportunity she needed to emerge from the relative seclusion she had been forced into after college.

She had become painfully aware that while she was coping with graduate school, her challenging new teaching position, and caring for her ailing mother before her mother's death, her social life had drifted into a backwater, like one of those scooped-out places she remembered along the bank of the trout stream in the woods near the house where she grew up. When she was young, she had sat for hours marveling at the objects floating there, lethargically, in perpetual circles, with no apparent means of escape. Now, she might finally have a chance to break out, to gain direction, and she became determined to do what she could, if not to catch up, then at least to push herself back into the main current.

It developed that her friend, an attorney, needed to make an appearance earlier in the evening at a business reception that was to be a celebration by a large corporation congratulating itself on acquiring a smaller company. He and the law firm he was with had worked on the deal. He was to attend to help ensure that the fairly large room looked appropriately crowded. After "showing the flag" at the reception, they were going to the dinner. She had faced the prospect of the reception with a vague sense of apprehension. But it was, she thought, a small price to pay to gain the rest of the evening.

Soon after their arrival, her escort was drawn into an earnest discussion from which she was gradually expelled by virtue of the enthusiasm of the others, men, who edged themselves toward the center to hear or be heard. Julia took the opportunity to look with mild curiosity around the room.

In a few moments her gaze came to rest on a man she had noticed earlier in passing. Now that she was free from other distractions and he was absorbed in conversation, she could take him in at her leisure. His hair was jet black and combed smoothly, straight back. His skin was deeply tanned. His imposing nose reminded her of a hawk's beak, ready to strike, and his prominent brow and well-defined, slightly pointed chin all contributed to a predatory image that was enhanced by a certain feline smoothness to his movements. What had caught her attention from the beginning, she decided later, was his aura of animal vitality.

He was confident, she could tell, even cocky, as he held forth to the circle of men that had formed around him. He might be in his late thirties, more likely early forties, which was young for this crowd of listeners, but they all seemed to be working diligently to make eye contact with him. They smiled wisely, and nodded gravely, when he spoke. He was shorter than most of them, but still seemed to dominate: a lion among a gathering of nervous water buffalo.

When her escort reemerged, Julia asked him about the man she had studied with an interest that she found had grown in intensity more than she chose to express. She learned that along with the top people of the two companies, he was something of a celebrity here. In fact, he had brought the companies together, making the acquisition possible. In doing so, he had earned a substantial commission. He had a lot to celebrate.

Later, her friend ambled off to get another gin and tonic. Julia was still working on her first glass of white wine, which had warmed to an almost cloying sweetness in the ample bowl of its glass. He left her on the edge of a small group of lawyers from his firm. Their discussion, with lowered voices, did not include her. She could hear only disjointed fragments of their conversation, but, so as not to appear abandoned and alone, with mounting embarrassment, she feigned interest.

"Hello."

She was startled to recognize, close at hand, the voice of the man who had intrigued her so much from afar. It was a resonant baritone, yet its effect was intimate, bestowing on her a flattering exclusivity. He spoke with a hint of a foreign accent. She turned. He was smiling broadly, looking directly at her. His eyes were dark brown and impenetrable, like well-polished mahogany.

"We haven't been introduced." He held out his hand. "I'm Peter Medea."

His grip was firm.

It took her a second to recover. Then she smiled back. "Hello."

"And you're Julia Davenport." He held her eyes with his.

"How did you ...?"

"No, I'm not psychic," he said. "You were on the guest list. I always try to find out who it might be worthwhile to get to know. I hope that doesn't sound too calculating. Anyway, I found you by matching you with your escort."

"Well, what makes me so `worthwhile,' as you put it?"

"My secret. For the moment, anyway. But now that I've seen you, that we've met, so to speak, I'm beginning to feel as though I'd like to get to know you with or without a reason. What do you say?"

"Sure." Julia hoped she did not betray her surprise.

"Well, we won't have much time now." Peter glanced in the direction of the bar, where Julia's escort was engaged in dialogue with another man while waiting for his refill. He pulled a slender, black leather appointment book and a Mont Blanc pencil from his inside coat pocket. "When can we get together?"

"I don't know." Julia hesitated. She was having a hard time catching up to the pace at which this man moved.

"How about dinner tomorrow evening?" Peter offered. "That's Thursday," he added, as if she might not know without her own appointment calendar in front of her.

"Here?" Julia knew she could not stay in New York.

"Here if you like," Peter smiled as he looked around the room in which they were standing, "although the atmosphere is a little more...