Chris looked to Ken for help.

“I think it sounds great. Maybe we could feed them the turkey leftovers.”

Oh swell. The man-of-a-thousand-names thinks it sounds great. She could just see them standing at the altar, and he says…“Oh, by the way, there’s something I have to tell you.”

Edna waved the spoon at Chris. “You haven’t said much about all of this. Would you rather have turkey? What do you think? Roast beef or turkey?”

“I’m not doing anything until after Nationals in January. I’m not interested in dresses or meatballs or instant marriages.”

“Hmmph,” Edna grunted, lips compressed.

“Hmmmph, yourself,” Chris teased good-naturedly. She peered over Edna’s shoulder into the stew pot. “This smells terrific. Let’s eat.”

Ken cut himself a wedge of fresh-baked bread and ladled a generous portion of stew onto his plate. “I have a few announcements of my own. I’m afraid it’s necessary for me to go back to work.”

“That’s good,” Edna exclaimed. “A man with a family needs a paycheck coming in regular.”

Chris felt the anger sweep back over her. He’s making a fool out of you, Edna, she wanted to scream. According to the magazine article he has enough money to last him a lifetime.

Ken pushed chunks of meat around on his plate as if they were chess pieces. He was clearly a man with something on his mind. There was a grim set to his mouth that reminded Chris of the magazine photograph. She felt a stab of remorseful panic, knowing that Ken Callahan was living on borrowed time-that someday soon Kenneth Knight would emerge, and she didn’t think she would like him. Ken looked up. His eyes held hers for a moment, and she knew he would wait. Ken Callahan had received a reprieve.

Chris breathed an audible sigh of relief and was shocked at her reaction. She actually wanted this man to continue the deception. This will never do, she told herself sternly. You are living in a make-believe world. You are in love with a man who does not exist.

Ken leaned across the table. “I know I’m in big trouble. The expression on your face just went from breathless expectation to blind panic to total relief. Then there was a brief look of love that made my stomach flip, and it was instantly replaced with the promise of a personality that could be a cross between Jack the Ripper and Mata Hari.”

“Funny thing, I thought I detected a few character changes going on behind those deep blue eyes of yours, too.”

He studied her with guarded curiosity.

Edna cleared her throat and rapped her fork against her water glass. “What are you two whispering about? Don’t you know it’s rude to whisper? I can’t hear a blasted thing you’re saying.”

Chris grunted in exasperation and looked at her clock for the hundredth time. One-thirty. Everyone was asleep but her. She thrashed to her side and smashed her face into the pillow. She was so mad she could barely breathe. Ken had spent the night being as nice as pie, reading to Lucy and joking with Edna. How could he be such a phony? Chris fumed. How dare he pretend everything was just wonderful. A man like that should be taught a lesson.

Chris threw the covers off with a vicious sweep of her hand. “He’s just leading us on,” she hissed. “If he wants to see leading on…I’ll show him leading on!” She stomped to her bureau and searched through her lingerie drawer. Nothing here but flannel nightgowns and thermal underwear, she dismally concluded. Nothing black and depraved. Nothing diaphanous and enticing. Everything she owned was warm!

She dropped her best white flannel nightshirt over her bare shoulders and placed a dot of Chanel at the base of her throat. She considered her image for a moment, mumbled “Oh, blast,” and splashed a smattering of perfume on the inside of each thigh. She combed her hair until it was a shining cloud of golden waves and applied eye-shadow over a heavy smudge of black liner. She carefully brushed on a liberal amount of black mascara. “Better,” she smirked at her reflection. She smoothed dark red glossy lipstick across her lips and pouted for effect. Yes, she decided, this should do it. She wrapped her velour robe around herself and with a fiendish grin set her alarm for two-fifteen. Ken Callahan needed a jolt. Something to get him thinking. He didn’t deserve to sleep soundly while she was in such agony.

There were no lights shining under Ken’s door. Chris listened for a moment but heard no sound. Carefully, she opened the door and allowed her eyes to adjust to the darkness of the room. Ken slept on his back, one bare arm thrown overhead, resting on his pillow, the other arm palm down at his side. There was no innocence to his sleeping form. Thick black lashes formed an arc against skin that seemed permanently tan. His mouth was soft and sensuous within the sinister close-cropped beard. Black hair spilled over his forehead to meet a slash of black brow. The strong column of his throat led to broad shoulders and a well-muscled chest that made Chris shiver with the knowledge of his latent power.

For a moment she quailed under his impact, frightened by the force of his virility. She dredged some of her previous anger to the surface. Don’t be a wimp, she told herself. Chin up. Bust out. Courage. She took a deep breath and closed the door behind her. Quietly she lit the candles in the wooden wall sconces and dropped her robe to the floor. She stood a foot from the bed. The curve of her breasts and thighs glowed golden under the flickering candlelight. “Ken,” she called softly. He stirred in his bed. His eyes opened lazily. She stood motionless, watching the drowse of sleep leave him. He held his arms out to her, as if this were expected and natural…as if she belonged in the warm comfort of his bed.

“I’ve come to seduce you,” she said huskily, moving toward him. And then I’m going to leave you hanging! she added silently. Revenge is a shabby emotion…and I’m going to enjoy every ignoble minute of it.

“Mmmm,” he murmured thickly. “I’m glad. It’s lonely in my bed without you. I fell asleep wanting you.”

Chris felt the anger being diffused with more gentle emotions. He always managed to say just the right thing in just the right tone. She sighed. And those trustingly vulnerable dark blue eyes were her undoing. Why had she ever thought she could pull this off? Sheets rustled as he sat up, revealing a lean naked torso that seemed bronzed by firelight. His fingertips touched hers, then moved to caress the length of silken thigh that had been placed so tantalizingly close. Chris heard his breath catch in his throat.

“Chris,” he whispered almost painfully. “You’re so beautiful.”

The world rocked around Chris at the touch of his lips. It didn’t matter who he was. He was the wind that rushed past her window on a moonlit night. He was the sun that burned its brand into her skin on a summer day. He could kiss a scraped knee and make it better. He could tell a terrible joke and make it seem funny. And he was passion. One heart. One soul. One need. They raised each other higher than any one being could ever go alone and hung suspended in time for a precious moment savoring the black, mindless ecstasy found only at the brink of sated desire.

Afterward, they clung together like two victims of a shipwreck, dazed at the joy of being alive and together on a peaceful beach. Ken held her close and brushed damp hair from her temple. “Wow,” he said, his voice shaky, still hoarse with emotion.

“Wow, yourself,” Chris giggled. “I don’t know how I’m going to get back to my bedroom. I don’t think my legs will support me.”

“Stay with me.”

“I can’t. I don’t want to set a bad example for Lucy.” She glanced at his clock. In four minutes her alarm would be going off! She leaped out of bed and struggled into her bathrobe. “I have to go. It’s been really nice,” she called over her shoulder as she rushed from the room, feeling like Cinderella about to turn into a pumpkin. She took the stairs two at a time, marveling at what reserves of strength she could muster in an emergency. She hurtled herself across her room and slapped her palm on the off button just seconds before the digital clock clicked to two-fifteen. She flopped onto her bed with her hand over her pounding heart, waiting for her breathing to normalize.