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Not that he couldn't afford to settle into something comfortable and elegant, but this place... this was home, and he was just stubborn enough not to relish giving it up. No, after nearly ten exasperating years, the Bennett estate belonged as much to him as to his wife, he felt.
    He took a long, deep draw on the cigar. I will nat be dethroned, he decided and began to jot down the specific plot he planned to set in motion.
    He was glad he'd taped the phone call from that country bumpkin--the Amish girl from somewhere in Pennsylvania, or so she'd said. Such a brassy creature, calling him here in search of Laura.
    What was it--something about his being married to her mother? That Laura had been searching for her? If such a thing were true, and this Katherine or Katie Lapp--as she had so ably prompted him--had received word from
    Laura Well, time was of the essence. He must act
    quickly.
    Finished with the cigar, he let it continue to smoke on the crystal ashtray, creating a gray haze about him. Then, leaning back, he watched the wispy tendrils curl and climb toward the high, molded ceiling. How like his own gradual ascent to fame and fortune, he recalled with satisfaction ....
    Laura Mayfield had been so naive when first they met twelve years ago. At twenty-six, she was virtually an innocent, to the point of exuding a refreshing coyness. He remembered this because on occasion she woulct blush, and
    48 over the slightest innuendo. This trait had taken him completely by surprise, perhaps because the girl--having grown up in opulence--seemed reticent to socialize and mingle with high society. She despised crowds--disorganized ones, that is. But the congestion of students in a classroom, for example, was an entirely different story. Stimulating, she'd say.
    By sheer accident, Dylan had made her acquaintance at the University of Rochester, during the spring semester. She was taking a class in English literature--for the fun of it--and he a refresher course in economics.
    As it turned out, his encounter with Laura had been a lucky break for him, which is not to say there was no attraction between them. He was smitten with her petite figure, her lush auburn hair--and her money. She, after an initial reservation or two, seemed convinced she had found her one and only true love, the man destined by heaven to marry her and cherish her for the rest of their days.
    To that end, they pursued their fascination with each other, talking for hours at a time. While Dylan would have much preferred to demonstrate his passion, Laura was a stickler about keeping things on the up and up. Insisted on a "pure and honorable relationship."
    Being the gentleman--and the pauper--he was, he'd determined to bide his time. Conquest would be all the sweeter for the waiting.
    It was during one of their discourses on soul-fed intimacy that he came to learn of Laura's desire for children. "I want as many babies as we can clothe, educate, and adore,"
    she said with the brightest grin on her guileless face. "Children?" He'd nearly choked. "Why, yes. Isn't it a grand thought?"
    Anything but! Children were a nuisance--a liability in his book. Nothing could be more distasteful than the
    49 thought of noisy, little diapered mopheads skittering around underfoot.
    No... children had never been a part of his agenda. Not even as an addendum. And although it seemed entirely possible that voicing his opposition might very well terminate his comfortable relationship with the beautiful and wealthy Laura Mayfield, he cringed at the thought of satisfying her desire for motherhood. Cleverly, he tempered his response, cloaking his true sentiments, never revealing his plans to have a vasectomy--before the wedding.
    It was months later that Laura made herself completely vulnerable to him, confessing her mortal sin. She described --in a rain of anguished tears--how, during her junior year in high school, she had become intimate with her first boyfriend. The outcome was an unwanted