"This is going to be harder than I thought." He rested his elbows on his knees and dropped his head into his hands.

"Especially if you keep running away from home," Sean pointed out.

"Can it, will you? This morning I felt I'd choke if I didn't get away."

Sean quirked an eyebrow. "Is there something going on here I don't understand?"

"I don't know. I'm trying to make this work, Sean. Everything's just...weird. I can't explain it."

"So you're hiding here with me?" He shook his head, a grin teasing his mouth. "G.o.d, you do have a problem."

"People tell me that a lot lately." He leaned his head back in his chair and rubbed his eyes.

"I didn't mean to yell at her. I just didn't know where she was. I thought...she'd left."

"With or without Molly?" Sean put the paper down. "Did you do something to p.i.s.s her off?"

Cole was silent, staring out across the balcony.

Sean snapped his fingers. "You want to have s.e.x with her, don't you. That's it. Ha! I knew that ball of ice where your d.i.c.k is would melt sooner or later."

"Just shut up, okay?"

"Jesus, it's not a sin to f.u.c.k your own wife. Maybe she'd even be willing."

Cole glared at him. "I said shut up."

"Fine. Tell me. Don't tell me. But whatever it is you'll have to deal with it sooner or later."

After a while, Sean made sandwiches, and they ate them on the balcony, Cole still brooding and Sean watchful.

"You think I'm a real jerk, don't you?" Cole said after a long time.

"Sometimes," Sean said, with irritation. "Listen, n.o.body knows more than I do what you've been through. But you can't keep running away from your life."

He let out a whoosh of air. "It doesn't seem to do much good, does it?"

"Nope. And you married a woman most men would snap up in a hot minute. You need to go home and figure out what you're going to do. So why don't you see if you can make this a real marriage?"

That was exactly what he wanted to do. Run home and carry Tara off to his bedroom. But he was sure he'd really screw himself over if he did that. He couldn't figure out where all this was coming from when he'd been prepared to live like a monk for the rest of his life. He was afraid to acknowledge the undercurrent of desire that swelled every time he looked at Tara. Or the dreams that plagued him. What the h.e.l.l was he going to do about it?

He sat out on the balcony, long after Sean had gone inside. His mind was such a jumble he wondered if he'd ever get it straightened out.

Sean was watching a baseball game when Cole went back into the living room.

"I guess I need to go home," he ventured.

"No kidding. Don't forget, you promised Tara you'd bring dinner."

Tara was upstairs bathing Molly when she heard the garage door open and close. In a few minutes, Cole was standing in the door to the bathroom, watching her, not quite knowing what to do with himself. After a moment, he walked to the other side of the bathroom where the sink was out of his line of sight.

He cleared his throat. "I owe you an apology, Tara."

"Yes, you do," she said, not turning to look at him, her voice very calm. "Which particular thing are you apologizing for-running off for the day or shouting at me on the telephone? I'll take either one." She carefully avoided mentioning the scene from the night before.

"Both, as a matter of fact." He leaned against the wall. "I was stupid and thoughtless today.

I'm sorry. I'll try not to do it again."

"Fine." She ignored him while she diapered Molly and dressed her for the night. "I need to give her a bottle then she might sleep through the night again."

"I've got food downstairs," Cole said. "I'll get it ready to heat in the microwave."

Molly's eyelids were drooping by the time the bottle was finished. After laying the little girl down in the crib, Tara turned on the mobile. Turning out all the lights except the night-light, she forced herself to go downstairs. In the kitchen, she poured herself a gla.s.s of water, leaned against the counter and eyed her husband. The air between them crackled.

"Everything's heated," he said, indicating the array of white cartons on the table. He'd also gotten out plates and silverware.

Good. Apparently, he wasn't going to mention last night either.

"Then why don't we eat? I don't know about you, but I'm starved."

They ate in a silence filled with electricity and tension. At last, Tara put down her fork and looked at him.

"I don't know what's going on here, Cole. There's a lot you haven't bothered to tell me. Of course, that's your choice."

He watched her through narrowed eyes, saying nothing.

She hoped he couldn't see the slight trembling in her hands. "But you might as well accept the fact that everything's got to come out sooner or later. The appropriate time will make itself known, but I wouldn't wait too long if I were you."

Panic flashed across his face. "Tara, please, I-"

"Not now. I'm really tired. I think I'll just go on upstairs."

She walked out of the room with dignity, leaving a frustrated Cole behind. But no more frustrated than she was. Secrets were going to kill them if she couldn't find a way to break down the wall he'd built. And she'd better do it before it collapsed on them, destroying everything.

Sunday morning heralded another bright and beautiful day. With Cole hiding in his den, Tara took advantage of the early morning cool to push Molly around the neighborhood in her stroller again. She fixed sandwiches for lunch, but when Cole didn't emerge from his self-imposed exile, she left his food on the counter and went upstairs to dress herself and the baby for the afternoon.

The said very little to each other on the drive to the Varner ranch. Molly was wide awake, for which Tara gave thanks. That meant the baby would nap during the afternoon. Tara felt as if the trip was thirty hours long instead of thirty minutes and sighed with relief when they drove down the narrow road and pulled up before the ranch house.

"My G.o.d, Lindsey, this is gorgeous," Tara said, when the Varners came out to meet them.

She sniffed the air, a heady mix of prairie gra.s.s, hay, horseflesh and leather.

Lindsey grinned. "We love it here. Jake was a city boy all his life, but now he wouldn't live anywhere else."

The afternoon proved a respite for Tara. She and Lindsey sat on the porch drinking lemonade and eating sugar cookies baked by Luisa, the Varners' housekeeper. Jason, the Varner's year-old child, sat in the playpen burbling to himself and playing with his toys; Molly napped in the portable crib Lindsey had set up. Jake and Cole headed for the back patio. Tara sat up in surprise when she saw Emilio, Luisa's husband, lead two horses from the stable and Jake and Cole approaching.

"I didn't know he could ride," she commented.

"Cole rides a lot when he comes out here. Says it works out the cobwebs."

Tara eyed her husband carefully as he and Jake swung into their saddles. In his faded jeans, denim shirt and scuffed boots, he looked every inch the cowboy, sitting on the horse as if he'd been doing it for years. Her breath caught in her throat, and she forced herself to swallow hard.

No s.e.x, they'd agreed, and after last night, she needed to make sure she didn't give him the wrong signals. Why had her body chosen this particular time to decide to come out of the deep freeze?

She tried to focus on conversation with Lindsey, but her mind kept drifting. She was glad when the men returned and Mary announced it was time to eat.

They had dinner at a picnic table under a huge oak tree, the heat of the day fading and the huge oaks providing a leafy canopy against the sun. Despite the fact they had Molly with them, Cole seemed more relaxed, more at ease, sprawled in a chair as he laughed and joked. His enjoyment was evident in his body language and his easy conversation. Tara almost regretted when it was time to leave.

By the time she'd settled the baby, Cole had once again gone directly to his den. Avoiding the issue, she told herself, but she was grateful not to have to deal with the awkwardness tonight.

Sighing as she climbed into bed herself, she wondered what was going to happen to this relationship that seemed to be turning itself upside down.

He still hadn't taken down the invisible walls around his bedroom, seeming to be much more comfortable in her room. And bed...

By now, she was more familiar with his body as he was with hers. Foreplay didn't require testing and experimentation any more. Now they remembered which touches elicited the sounds of pleasure, which ones brought forth the most heated response.

Tara loved when he took her nipples in his mouth as he was doing now, sucking on them and biting them gently until they were aching and swollen, each touch sending darts of pleasure through her body. His warm hands cradled each plump breast, kneading them while he drew on her nipples, knowing the effect it had on her and chuckling softly against her flesh.

His mouth moved farther down her body, trailing wet kisses to her navel where he circled the indentation with the tip of his tongue. But when she tried to urge him lower, he moved his head completely and placed soft kisses at the crook of each elbow and the soft inner side of each wrists. Not until Cole had she realized how many erogenous zones lurked on her body.

"Cole." His name rolled from her lips on an urgent sigh.

"Tell me what you want," he commanded, his mouth now just above the curls on her mound.

"You know," she whispered. "You always know."

"Tell me," he repeated.

Tara licked her lips. He always liked to hear her say it aloud. "Suck my p.u.s.s.y. Lick me with your tongue. Please." This last a little more frantic.

His low chuckle had a hoa.r.s.e sound to it. "Right now."

He opened her l.a.b.i.a as if he were unwrapping a present and lapped at her flesh as if he were a man dying of thirst. Darting inside her quivering channel, then out, then in, then tracing the entire length of her slit. Her hands fisted in the sheet as pleasure raced through her in a rush of heat. Her hips automatically lifted to urge him on more and more. When he slid two then three fingers into her waiting c.u.n.t and closed his lips around her c.l.i.t, it took barely one or two movements before her o.r.g.a.s.m crested and rippled through her like waves crashing on a sh.o.r.e.

Tara bucked against his mouth and hands, barely recognizing the keening sound low in her throat as spasm after spasm rocked her. The more she convulsed, the more rapidly Cole moved his fingers in and out and the harder he sucked on her c.l.i.t, until he'd wrung the last drop of liquid and the last spasm of response from her convulsing body.

When he moved, she was sure he was reaching for the condom on the nightstand but instead he straddled her body. His mouth came down on hers in a greedy kiss, his tongue thrusting inside the hot well and dueling with hers. He slanted his head this way and that to give himself better angles. When at last he lifted his head, he bent to the valley between her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and licked the skin until it was slick and wet with her juices and his.

She watched him, wondering what came next.

Cole pressed his c.o.c.k so it lay in that same valley, used both hands to compress her b.r.e.a.s.t.s until they gripped his c.o.c.k and began moving slowly back and forth.

He was f.u.c.king her b.r.e.a.s.t.s! Holy h.e.l.l!

"Do you like that?" he asked, his words uneven, his hips jolting back and forth.

"Yes. I-I do." And unexpectedly she did. The rasp of his c.o.c.k against her skin was more arousing and carnal than she would have imagined. That was if she'd thought about it at all.

"Keep watching me," he told her. "Watch my c.o.c.k. That's it. Lick your lips, Tara, as if you're tasting me."

He kept up the same motion, the same speed, until she saw his c.o.c.k jerk, felt his body go rigid, and in a moment, his hot liquid splashed on her in hot spurts. She stared, fascinated, as he came again and again. When the tension finally left him and his muscles relaxed, his c.o.c.k softening, he rubbed the thick liquid onto her cheeks and across her lips.

"Now you are truly mine." His voice was ragged as he labored to breathe, but his words were firm. "Mine."

"Yes. I am." She reached her arms up to him and...

The sensation of falling woke Tara. When she could brush the cobwebs from her brain, she realized the dream had been so real she'd reached for Cole and nearly rolled herself out of bed. She rolled back onto the tangled bedclothes and pressed her hands to her hot cheeks.

h.e.l.l!

This was really getting out of hand, but what could she do? How was she supposed to stop it?

She woke in the morning more tired than when she went to bed. This time the erotic dream was even more graphic than previous ones. She swore she could feel the imprint of Cole's hands on her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and thighs, feel his s.e.m.e.n on her skin, but when she looked at herself in the mirror, there were no visible marks. Nothing there. Only an insistent throbbing that demanded release.

She stared at herself in the bathroom mirror.

What's happening to me? I never had dreams like this about Mike.

Or this kind of s.e.x with Mike, if she were honest. She shivered, hoping cold showers would work as well for her as she heard it did for men.

For the rest of the week, Cole made it a point to avoid her. He left early each morning before she was up, calling during the day to check on her in a very formal voice and telling her he would work late and eat dinner out. Well, he'd hired her to be a single mother, and it seemed that was exactly what she'd turned out to be.

Tara longed to use Lindsey as a sounding board, but the situation was too intimate to discuss. She would have felt uncomfortable sharing the details, so she kept everything locked inside and wondered how she and Cole were ever going to find some kind of even footing.

Cole threw himself into the routine at the office. If he'd worked with a frenzy before, now he was in overdrive. No one had any idea the agony he was suffering, sitting in his office long after others had left, staring out the window into the darkened night, wondering what he was going to do.

At odd moments, in the office or in meetings, he would find his thoughts drifting and images of Tara would flit across his mind. She moved with such a graceful economy of movement, always in control, the light scent of her perfume an aura around her. He didn't trust himself to go home to her, to be alone with her.

His original idea seemed to be working, because it was obvious Molly adored her. He heard "Mama! Mama! Mama!" until he wanted to scream. It just wasn't fair. He had what most men dream about-a gorgeous wife and an adorable child-and he couldn't bear to be around one or trust himself with the other. Now, in addition to the child, he had to stay away from his wife.

Sometimes when he climbed the stairs late at night, he'd pause at the door of Tara's room, the way he had that first time and watch her sleeping. He gave thanks she couldn't see the enormous erection that sprang to life just by looking at her. How had he gotten himself into this mess?

When he couldn't stand there any more, he would go to his room, lie in the bed that he hated and stay awake until dawn, anguishing over his stupidity and his mistakes and his raw hunger for what might have been.

Friday afternoon, while Molly was napping, Tara poured herself a gla.s.s of iced tea and took a new book out to the patio. She was so engrossed in reading, she didn't hear Cole come out of the house.

"Good book?" he asked.