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replaced the
telephone receiver and stood without moving, staring out the window into the
backyard where the children played in the sandbox. Warning bells were going off
in her head. No, that was ridiculous. She'd agreed to take Emma again only because
of the generous check John had left. That amount weekly added to what she
already earned might make the difference in the kind of rental she would be
able to afford. And it wasn't as though Emma had been any trouble. Despite the
sadness beneath, she was a joyous child, one who had all too easily touched
Marian's heart.
    She would simply have to be
wary of her own vulnerability, Marian told herself firmly. She cringed at the
idea of Emma's father discovering how his kindness had affected her.
    Who was she kidding? He
hadn't even needed to be kind! It was that slow, rough voice, the penetrating
gray eyes, the broad shoulders, and the lazy, graceful way he moved. Marian
shivered as she pictured the rare smile that warmed his face.
    The real trouble was that
John McRae had reminded her of her own nearly forgotten sexuality, of the
sweetness and passion and tenderness that was possible between a man and a
woman. Unfortunately, along with that she'd remembered betrayal and sorrow and
loneliness. For her, the happiness in her marriage had become inextricably
tangled in her memory with the sadness.
    Exhilaration and heartbreak.
She didn't need either, Marian thought fiercely, turning from the window to
hurry out into the backyard. Her children were enough. They had to be enough.
She would not allow John McRae to reawaken longings she could no longer afford.
    She crouched by the sandbox.
"Hey, guys, want some help making a castle?"
     
    *****
     
    Emma accepted her father's
hug with grace, but without the previous week's misery. When he released her,
she danced away. "Hey, Jessie, Anna. Let's go pet Snowball. Can we ride,
Marian?"
    "I'm afraid it's too
late. Dinner's already in…” But the three children had vanished around the
house. Marian rolled her eyes and turned back to John. "I can tell who's
popular around here."
    His grin was wry. "And
how badly she's going to miss her dad."
    Marian bit her lip. "I'm
sure..."
    He gestured dismissively.
"Just kidding. I'm glad she was looking forward to coming. It makes
leaving easier for me."
    Easy was what all absentee
parents wanted, Marian thought, but somehow she couldn't summon any anger.
John too obviously loved his daughter.
    "Well," Marian
said. "Have a good trip. Where are you going this week?"
    "L.A. Which reminds
me..." He patted his pockets, producing a slip of paper. "My cell
phone, my phone number at the hotel, and the network. They can always track me
down."
    When she reached for the
paper, her fingers touched his, sending a disconcerting tingle up her arm. Her
gaze lifted and she saw in his eyes an echo of the awareness she felt. For a
very still, breathless instant, they looked at each other, until Marian swallowed
and made herself glance away. She stared down at the telephone numbers written
in a bold, dark scrawl. They might as well have been Egyptian hieroglyphics for
all she knew.
    "I'm sure we won't have
any problem," she said brightly. "Still..."
    "Better safe than
sorry?"
    Something mocking in his tone
brought her gaze up again. His mouth was curled into a crooked smile, and
Marian wondered whether his comment referred to telephone numbers or to the far
more intimate, unnerving vibes that shivered just beneath the surface.
    Tilting her chin up slightly,
she said, "I do my best."
    His smile widened until he
looked almost predatory. "I'm sure you do. Otherwise I wouldn't bring
Emma here."
    Was he talking only about
Marian's capabilities as a baby-sitter? The look in his gray-green eyes was too
direct for her to believe that. But why would he be interested in her? He was a
retired pro athlete, a media personality. He must have stylish, sophisticated
women constantly throwing themselves at him. He couldn't possibly be