"Kate?"

She turned. Richard stood in the doorway, his expression boyish and guilty. She couldn't control the anger that speared through her, though she tried.

"Trouble sleeping?" he asked.

"Yes."

He crossed to her, but didn't touch her. She glanced at him, then back out at the lake. Had things gotten so bad between them that he was afraid to touch her? And that she didn't care if he did?

"I'm sorry," he said. He turned to her. "I really am, Kate."

She had heard those words from him, said in exactly that way so many years ago. She sighed. "I know."

"Will you ever forgive me?"

"I'm trying." But it wasn't as easy as it had once been. And that frightened her to her core.

He caught her hands. "Come to bed. Let me make love to you. Let me prove how much I love you." When she hesitated, he brought her hands to his mouth. "Everything's going to be okay with us, Kate. The way it's always been. Trust me."

She acquiesced and he led her to their bedroom, to their bed. They made love and she clung to the familiar, to the Richard she had known and loved for so long. The Richard she had been happy with.

But even as she did, she feared that nothing would ever be the same between them again.

Richard lay on his side and watched Kate as she slept. Two weeks had passed since the night he and Kate had fought. Two weeks since he had run to Julianna and held her in his arms. Two weeks of hell.

He moved his gaze over his wife's face, knowing each curve and hollow, each line and shadow by heart. They had been together long enough to know each other inside and out. He loved and admired her. He wished he had her goodness, her strength. He couldn't imagine his life without her.

Yet even as he lay beside her on their bed, he felt himself slipping away from her and toward Julianna. It was wrong. He knew that. Each day he headed to work armed by a night with Kate, by a night spent reminding himself of his responsibilities, his moral obligations, that a man was only as good as his word.

The minute he saw Julianna, reason, reminders and moral responsibilities flew out the window. She made him feel young again. Sexually potent. She awakened in him feelings, urges, he hadn't had in years.

He had become obsessed with the other woman. With thoughts of sex with her-how she would taste, how it would feel to be inside her, the sounds she would make when she climaxed.

It had been two weeks of hell, of being torn between two different women, between right and wrong, love and lust.

Richard rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling and the gently whirling fan. Only an hour ago he and Kate had made love. When he'd climaxed he'd thought of Julianna. He had pictured her writhing under him, bucking against him with her own release, crying out his name.

But it had been his wife crying out his name, and his guilt had been a bitter, sobering brew.

He threw his arm across his eyes, disgusted with himself. What was wrong with him? He loved Kate. He loved their life together.

But he wanted Julianna. So much, he sometimes thought he would go mad if he didn't have her.

Julianna hadn't encouraged him. Quite the opposite, she had held him at arm's length, seemingly more conscious of his responsibilities and moral obligations than he.

They'd talked about their kiss, agreed it had been a mistake and that it would never happen again.

Easier said than done, he thought, stifling a groan. The air between them was electric; it all but crackled with awareness and unrelieved arousal. During the middle of a meeting he would find himself staring at her mouth, remembering and becoming aroused. While working, their hands or shoulders would brush; they would both look up at the same time and their gazes would lock.

And he would see his own longing mirrored back at him from her eyes.

If it were only sexual, he thought not for the first time, his head beginning to hurt, he could deal with it, could somehow conquer it. But everything about her called to him. When he looked at her he felt a deep urge to hold her close, to protect and possess her, the way men had been protecting and possessing women throughout time. She was everything a woman should be-sweet, vulnerable and bright, sexy as hell.

She had offered to quit. Had urged him to find someone else for the job. His family, she'd said, came first. They had to be strong, had to do the right thing.

He had refused. He couldn't do that to her; it wouldn't be fair or right. Besides being good at her job, she needed it.

No, it was up to him to be a man. To be strong; to exert self-control. It wouldn't be easy-for either of them-but they could do it.

The jangle of the phone startled him out of his musings. He grabbed it before it could ring a second time, not wanting Kate or Emma to be awakened.

It was Julianna. She was crying. Nearly hysterical.

"What wrong?" he asked alarmed.

"I don't know what to do. I'm so frightened."

He glanced over his shoulder at Kate. She stirred, but didn't awaken. He sat up and pressed the phone tighter to his ear. "Tell me what's happened?"

"Someone tried to break in. I was sleeping and-" she sucked in a broken-sounding breath "-he rattled the doorknob and I…I saw someone…a figure at the window."

"I'll be right there. Make sure all your doors and windows are locked, and just sit tight."

He hung up the phone and climbed out of bed.

"Richard?" Kate mumbled. "What's going on?"

"The office," he said. "There's been a break-in."

The lie slipped so easily, so convincingly, past his lips it frightened him. He wished he could call it back. But he couldn't, he realized, stomach sinking. Now spoken, he was stuck with it.

"A break-in?" She eased up on an elbow, her expression concerned.

"I'm going to check it out." Unable to look her in the eye, he turned his back to her and pulled on a pair of khakis and a golf shirt.

Fully awake now, she sat up, pushing the hair out of her eyes. "Are you sure it's safe? I don't know if it's such a good idea for you to-"

"The police are there. They need one of the partners to come down and look the place over, reset the alarm, things like that." He looked over his shoulder at her, smiling reassuringly. "Lucky me, my number must have topped the list."

She frowned. "If you're sure it's safe?"

"I am." Blood pounding in his head, Richard went around the bed, bent and kissed her. As he did, he was struck with what a big part of his life she was, how long they had been together, how much he loved her. And how close he was to losing it all.

No. He wouldn't allow that to happen. He was letting his imagination run away with him. He was going to help a friend in need. A woman who was alone and terrified. He'd lied about it because…because it was late and he'd wanted to avoid a scene. That was all.

He bent and kissed Kate again, this time more deeply. "I love you, Kate," he murmured, his voice catching. "Believe that."

When he broke away, she clung to him a moment. She searched his gaze. "I'm scared, Richard."

He knew she wasn't talking about tonight or about his going down to the firm to check out an attempted robbery. She was talking about them, the forever they had taken for granted for so long.

He kissed her one last time. More, he acknowledged, to reassure himself than her. "There's nothing to be scared of," he said, forcing an easy smile. "I'll be back before you can say Jumpin' Jack Flash."