"Of course not," she cooed. "And I know some women find all that fame and money a powerful lure, though I don't understand it." She hesitated, as if choosing her words carefully. "I'm sure Kate wouldn't be swayed by such superficial things."

He stopped pacing and looked at her. "You really think so?"

"I do. Besides, so what if Dallas had a thing for Kate? It would be different if they had been lovers. But they weren't. Right?"

It would be different. It would make all the difference in the world.

He sat back down, his legs refusing to hold his weight a moment more. He flopped against the sofa back, resting his head against the cushion and staring up at the ceiling. All these years a suspicion that something physical had happened between Luke and Kate had burned in the pit of his gut. More than a suspicion, really; a kind of awful certainty. But he had been able to shrug off the suspicion by reminding himself that he, not Dallas, had won the prize.

Kate had lied to him. So she could see Dallas.

"Richard?"

"Right," he said. "No sex. They were just friends."

"Then you have nothing to worry about. Be patient. I'm sure she loves you very much."

"I don't know." He shook his head. "Just a few months ago I believed that. I believed I had the perfect marriage. Now I…now it seems like everything's falling apart."

Disgusted with himself, with his self-pity and whining, he stood again and crossed to the window. Julianna's street was dark, deserted. Not a light shone down either side; Richard realized how late it must be. Was Kate still awake? he wondered. And if so, did she worry where he was?

Julianna came up behind him. She laid her hands on his shoulders and began to massage them, working at the tight, aching muscles. It felt great, and a sound of pleasure slipped past his lips.

"I should go," he murmured, though leaving was the last thing he wanted to do.

"Yes."

He turned and faced her. "Thank you for tonight. I don't know what I would have done without you to talk to."

She smiled sadly. "How could she not love you? You're everything a woman could-" Her throat closed over the words, and she looked quickly away.

"Julianna?" He brought a hand to her face. "Look at me."

She did and he saw that she was crying. He made a sound of surprise. "Baby, what's wrong?"

She shook her head and took a step away from him. "Nothing. Just go."

He caught her hand, stopping her from leaving. "You're crying. Something must be wrong."

A single tear rolled down her cheek. "It's not right for me to say. You're a married man."

"I'm not leaving until you tell me what's wrong." He brought both hands to her face, cupping it. "Talk to me, Julianna."

She drew in a shuddering breath, tipping her face into his palm, rubbing herself against him like a cat. "All my life I've…I've waited for a man like you. And Kate, it's like she's just tossing…doesn't she see…doesn't she know how special you are?"

Warmth for this girl, this innocent, swelled inside him. "Sweetheart." The endearment slipped from his lips, as naturally as his breath. She lifted her gaze to his again and his heart turned over. Her eyes were filled with longing- and with regret, that it was not to be.

At that moment he could think of nothing but her lips, their color, how they would feel against his, how they would taste. Giving in to the questions, his longing, he bent and ever so lightly brushed his mouth against hers.

Her lips trembled, then parted. With a groan, he deepened the kiss, spearing his tongue into her mouth, tasting, exploring. Conquering.

Cause for Alarm 287

She curled her fingers around his shoulders, clinging to him for one perfect moment, then flattened her hands and pushed him away.

"No, Richard." She sucked in a shaky breath. "We can't. You have a wife. A child."

Richard struggled to get ahold of himself. Struggled for the equilibrium that until tonight had rarely escaped him.

"I'd give anything to be with you," she said softly, "but not like this. You'd hate yourself later. And I couldn't bear that."

"Julianna-"

"No." She placed a finger against his lips. "Don't say anything. Just go home, Richard. To Kate. To your baby daughter."

She was right, he knew. His responsibilities lay elsewhere. But still, he was torn. There was such a sweetness about her. Such vulnerability.

It called to him. She called to him.

He opened his mouth, though he hadn't a clue to say what. Nothing seemed adequate, everything meant nothing. Would change nothing.

He was a married man.

With one last look at her, he walked away.

For a long time after Richard left, Julianna sat alone in the dark, reliving Richard's visit, their kiss. She brought a hand to her mouth, still feeling the imprint of his lips against hers. Hot. Searching. Desperate.

Julianna shuddered at the memory. She had wanted him just as desperately. Pushing him away had been one of the hardest things she'd ever had to do. She had only found the strength of will to do it by reminding herself of the things her mother had told her over the years about winning a man. To reel him in slowly. To never give in to sex too quickly. That nothing would send a man scurrying back to his wife faster than guilt. That a man had to feel his behavior justified, even when he was cheating. He had to feel righteous for having held out as long as humanly possible.

Julianna smiled. Richard had tumbled once, he would again, falling deeper under her spell. How could he not? Now that he'd had a taste of what he could have with her, Kate's distracted kisses and hurried lovemaking would be less satisfying than before. More frustrating.

Besides, she simply couldn't lose. She had destiny on her side.

Richard didn't know it yet, but he was already hers.

The next morning, Richard was contrite. Distraught. He begged Kate's forgiveness and cuddled Emma to him, saying how much he loved her. He blamed his behavior on stress and booze; he must have been out of his mind, he said and promised it would never happen again. During the day he sent Kate a huge bouquet of flowers; that evening he came home from work with a stuffed bear for Emma.

Kate agreed to forgive him. How could she not? He was her husband; she had made him a promise of for better or for worse, had made it in front of their family, friends and God.

And this was definitely one of those times in the "worse" category, she thought later that night as she stood on the upper gallery, gazing out at the dark lake. She lifted her face to the starless sky. She had said she would forgive him and she would. Forgetting would be the problem. For as hard as she had tried, she'd been unable to put out of her mind the way he had forced himself on her, the things he had said. Especially the ones about Emma.

And she couldn't shake the feeling that something had gone terribly awry in their marriage, that they were being manipulated by forces outside themselves.

She had felt that way for weeks.

Kate frowned, thinking back. Since the day of Luke's book signing, she realized. The day the photo of Richard and Emma had disappeared, the day Old Joe had told her about the girl on the swing.

The girl on the swing.

Julianna. Emma.

Kate rubbed her arms, chilled despite the warm night, her head whirling with thoughts of Emma falling into their lives so suddenly. Of Richard's new assistant and of the surprising and intense dislike she had taken to her. Of Richard's behavior and the missing photograph. Of her own feelings of helplessness.

One had nothing to do with the other. Nothing except swirling together to create an unsettling brew, one that had knocked both her and Richard completely off balance.