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cheeks, shuddering, remembering that last night, the night he had discovered her pregnancy. He had been away on business for several weeks. She had meant to tell him that night, had planned every moment of the evening, wanting their reunion to be special, wanting to set the perfect stage for her announcement.
    She had been so excited, so certain John would be thrilled with her news. Instead, he had become a man she hadn’t recognized, coldly furious and cruel.
    As was their custom, she had arrived at his apartment early so she could be waiting in bed for him, curled up under the covers like a sleepy child. Julianna leaned her head back, resting it against the cool plaster wall, remembering. She hadn’t chosen a sexy, sheer nightie or provocative underwear to please her lover, but a long, pink floral gown with a high neck and white ruffle at the throat, wrists and hem.
    The kind of gown a little girl would wear.
    John’s little girl….
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    She wiggled down under the covers more, and her soft flannel gown rubbed against her legs, fuzzy and reassuring. She acknowledged excitement. Anticipation. Nerves.
    She worked to quell the latter, though without much luck. Her heart beat almost out of control, her mind raced with what she would say to John and how he would respond, with thoughts about the future, their future.
    Pregnant. Twelve weeks and one day. Though she had deliberately stopped taking her birth control pills in the hopes this would happen, she could hardly believe it was true.
    She was a woman now, finally.
    Julianna squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath, willing her runaway heart to slow. That’s why she had stopped taking her pills without telling him. She was tired of being his little girl. She wanted to be a woman, was ready and anxious to have what other women had. She was certain she had done the right thing.
    John would give her what she wanted. He always had.
    She pressed a hand to her nearly flat stomach, imagining the future. She wanted her and John to be a real couple, like the ones she saw on TV. Real lovers, the way men and women were lovers in books and in movies. Passionate and committed. And…and adult.
    Julianna didn’t know how to put her finger on what she wanted, what was missing from her relationship with John. It wasn’t simply that she and John lived apart. It wasn’t the difference in their ages or that he was the only man she had ever been with. It wasn’t that she didn’t love him—she did, with all her heart.
    She rolled onto her left side and again the soft fabric of her gown tickled her legs. Sudden tears stung her eyes. She had prowled through the lingerie sections of the department stores, longing to wear the sexy, sheer clothes most women wore for their lovers; she had gazed with hunger at other men and women, other lovers, and the way they looked at and touched each other.
    John treated her differently than that. Gently. With love, respect and tenderness. Which was good. But still…She wanted more. She wanted passion. Lust. Even the occasional argument.
    She heard John at the front door. Quickly, she closed her eyes and breathed deeply, rhythmically, feigning sleep.
    This was part of their game. One they had been acting out ever since the first time, so many years ago.
    Only then, it hadn’t been a game. It hadn’t been an act.
    Her bedroom door opened; light fell across the bed. A moment later the mattress dipped as he sat on its edge.
    For long seconds he said nothing, and she knew he simply gazed at her. As always, she fought the urge to open her eyes and look at him, fought the urge to attempt to read what he was thinking in his eyes.
    â€œJulianna,” he said softly, “it’s me, my sweet. It’s John.”
    â€œJohn?” she whispered, letting her lashes flutter up, feigning sleepy confusion. “You’re back?”
    â€œYes, love. I’m back.”
    â€œI missed you,” she