She heard him brushing his teeth while she was in the shower. When she stepped out, he stepped in. He didn’t look at her.

He showered. She brushed her teeth and moisturized her face.

He came out, toweled himself. She looked at him in the mirror. Dan had dark-blond hair, neatly cut—good legal hair. He kept himself in shape. He had light blue-green eyes and managed to keep a good tan, as well. Having kids didn’t do things to men at all. He was tall and well built and good-looking. She wanted him; she didn’t want him. She loved him; she hated him.

She wondered if she was suffering from some strange disease.

He wrapped his towel around himself. “If you don’t want to do something, Kaila, just tell me.”

“I did—”

“No. The first time. It was like making love to a dead tree.”

That one hurt.

“I’m sorry.”

“All you had to do was say something.”

“I was trying to be a good wife.”

“Yeah. Sure. There’s nothing like making a man feel totally inadequate to make him feel he’s got the best damned wife in the world.”

“Go fuck yourself,” Kaila told him softly.

“I’d definitely have more fun,” he assured her.

Stung, she stood perfectly still.

She had known that she was unhappy.

It hadn’t occurred to her that he was miserable, too. And now she wondered more than ever if he was having an affair.

He walked out to the bedroom and started dressing. Shaking, she slipped into a robe and hurried out of the bedroom, closing the door behind her.

She went mechanically through the functions of the morning, waking Justin and Shelley, starting breakfast.

Shelley was quickly howling and in tears because she couldn’t find one of her sneakers, and she had to wear her sneakers, because they were getting new playground equipment that day.

Anthony—who was mostly weaned, but not completely—threw his kiddie cup on the floor and screamed for her.

Justin decided to help, with his own cornflakes, and spilled the milk all over the table and on the floor. Naturally, that was when Dan walked in.

“Jesus, Kaila,” he said. “Looks like I’ll be a little late,” he muttered.

“You might have thought of that earlier,” she bit out cattily.

“I should have thought of that earlier.”

He started mopping up Justin and the table and the milk. Kaila knew she was about to burst into tears. “I’ve got it, just go. Just get out. You can be late for everything else in the world, but don’t be late for that precious job of yours.”

“Well, you know what, Kaila? At least, at work, people like me. Amazing how that can make you feel happy to be somewhere!”

He threw down the towel with which he’d been soaking up the milk and stormed out of the house.

The rest of the morning seemed to take forever. She got Justin and Shelley off to their various schools and finally had Anthony happy and in a good mood. Her housekeeper, Anna, arrived. Anna was a wonderful Latin woman with a flair for handling children. She whisked through the kitchen in a matter of minutes, got the laundry going and came into Shelley’s room, where Kaila was looking through piles of toys to find the still-missing sneaker. “You have tennis this morning, no?”

“I was going to take a lesson, but…”

“You go. You get out of the house. Have a good time.”

“Things are kind of in a shambles this morning.”

“Kaila, I work for you, yes? I’ll pick up the shambles. That’s my job. I’m good at it. You pay me well, and you have cute, good little children. Go, go, shoo!”

Kaila went to her lesson. The weather was already hotter than Hades. She saw a few friends on the courts, and they asked her to lunch.

She called Anna, who had no problem picking Shelley up at one and Justin at two.

She went to lunch at the country club. She had two piña coladas. Her head was spinning.

She said goodbye to her friends, then headed back to the locker room to change. Her sneakers seemed to slap against the cement as she entered the changing building, walking down the hallway between the men’s and ladies’ lockers, rest rooms and showers.

It was oddly quiet.

She was startled and nearly screamed when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

“Kaila!”

She spun around.

He was there. Looking so handsome. He’d been playing tennis. He was in white. His skin was so bronze. He flashed his teeth in a perfect, tender smile.

“You look scrumptious!” he told her.

She smiled. She felt somewhat silly; two drinks laced strongly with rum in the middle of the day were a bit much.

“Thanks.”

“You ready to have an affair with me yet?” he asked. His tone was light, but his eyes were serious. He backed her gently against the wall, his fingers moving over her face.

“I…can’t.”

“You know you will.”

She smiled, looking at him, shaking her head. “We just really couldn’t…I mean…it wouldn’t be right. I mean, not at all.”

She giggled. Damn the piña coladas.

He pressed against her. His lips were suddenly on hers. Molding, passionate. She felt a stirring. The piña coladas, she told herself. She was kissing him back. Just a kiss. More than a kiss. Tongues meshing. Wet. Stifling. She needed more air. Strange. She was both excited…

And repelled.

A slight sense of panic pervaded her. His hands were on her, molding her breast, sliding up her thigh. She felt his touch against naked flesh, dangerously close to intimate.

“Sleep with me, love me…” he whispered fervently against her lips.

She suddenly wanted to push him away. But he broke away from her. “I love you. I can wait until you’re ready. The time is coming. I can taste it when we kiss…” he whispered. “There’s so much more I want to taste, to lick. To kiss. I want to make it so good. Lick you here…here…”

He moved his fingers to show her. She inhaled sharply, shocked. She’d only been toying with this idea so far. This was more than play. More than fantasy.

It was too real.

“But I can wait. I will wait. Because it will be so much better when I wait…. You’ll want me. When I finish with you, I promise, you’ll want me.”

“I…”

She couldn’t speak.

He brushed her cheek tenderly, deep understanding in his eyes.

He walked away from her whistling.

An acquaintance passed him by on the way to the men’s lockers. They spoke, jovial, laughing.

Kaila leaned against the wall, her knees buckling. She was shaking.

Once again, she didn’t know what she wanted.

Fantasy had been so much fun. Imagining a lover. Handsome, charming, devoted entirely to making her feel wonderful. Adoring her, a lover who knew just where and when and how she wanted to be touched…

But she suddenly felt…dirty.

She was getting exactly what she had wanted, except that she didn’t really want it.

She wanted to cry again.

She finally managed to push herself away from the wall and head into the locker room. She had to get her relationship with him back on a friendly keel. Unless, of course, Dan was having an affair. Then she would be so mad that she’d sleep with the first person available.

Him.

She paused before her locker, smiling. The feeling of repulsion for her almost-out-of-the-question would-be lover faded. He was a sweetie. A charming man who knew how to make her feel better. Like an attractive, desirable woman again—even if she did occasionally wear oatmeal and spit-up.

He’d left her roses. Beautiful red roses. A dozen of them. They were lying on the bench directly in front of her locker.

She picked them up, smiling, then muttered, “Ouch!” and sucked on her finger where she had acquired a tiny drop of blood.

These roses had thorns.

Still, the very idea of roses was so romantic and sexy and sweet….

Kaila took a long shower at the club, trying to clear her head before going home.