Erica Spindler - Cause for Alarm

And he would see his own longing mirrored back at him from her eyes.

If it were only sexual, he thought not for the first time, his head beginning to hurt, he could deal with it, could somehow conquer it. But everything about her called to him. When he looked at her he felt a deep urge to hold her close, to protect and possess her, the way men had been protecting and possessing women throughout time. She was everything a woman should be-sweet, vulnerable and bright, sexy as hell.

She had offered to quit. Had urged him to find someone else for the job. His family, she'd said, came first. They had to be strong, had to do the right thing.

He had refused. He couldn't do that to her; it wouldn't be fair or right. Besides being good at her job, she needed it.

No, it was up to him to be a man. To be strong; to exert self-control. It wouldn't be easy-for either of them-but they could do it.

The jangle of the phone startled him out of his musings. He grabbed it before it could ring a second time, not wanting Kate or Emma to be awakened.

It was Julianna. She was crying. Nearly hysterical.

"What wrong?" he asked alarmed.

"I don't know what to do. I'm so frightened."

He glanced over his shoulder at Kate. She stirred, but didn't awaken. He sat up and pressed the phone tighter to his ear. "Tell me what's happened?"

"Someone tried to break in. I was sleeping and-" she sucked in a broken-sounding breath "-he rattled the doorknob and I…I saw someone…a figure at the window."

"I'll be right there. Make sure all your doors and windows are locked, and just sit tight."

He hung up the phone and climbed out of bed.

"Richard?" Kate mumbled. "What's going on?"

"The office," he said. "There's been a break-in."

The lie slipped so easily, so convincingly, past his lips it frightened him. He wished he could call it back. But he couldn't, he realized, stomach sinking. Now spoken, he was stuck with it.

"A break-in?" She eased up on an elbow, her expression concerned.

"I'm going to check it out." Unable to look her in the eye, he turned his back to her and pulled on a pair of khakis and a golf shirt.

Fully awake now, she sat up, pushing the hair out of her eyes. "Are you sure it's safe? I don't know if it's such a good idea for you to-"

"The police are there. They need one of the partners to come down and look the place over, reset the alarm, things like that." He looked over his shoulder at her, smiling reassuringly. "Lucky me, my number must have topped the list."

She frowned. "If you're sure it's safe?"

"I am." Blood pounding in his head, Richard went around the bed, bent and kissed her. As he did, he was struck with what a big part of his life she was, how long they had been together, how much he loved her. And how close he was to losing it all.

No. He wouldn't allow that to happen. He was letting his imagination run away with him. He was going to help a friend in need. A woman who was alone and terrified. He'd lied about it because…because it was late and he'd wanted to avoid a scene. That was all.

He bent and kissed Kate again, this time more deeply. "I love you, Kate," he murmured, his voice catching. "Believe that."

When he broke away, she clung to him a moment. She searched his gaze. "I'm scared, Richard."

He knew she wasn't talking about tonight or about his going down to the firm to check out an attempted robbery. She was talking about them, the forever they had taken for granted for so long.

He kissed her one last time. More, he acknowledged, to reassure himself than her. "There's nothing to be scared of," he said, forcing an easy smile. "I'll be back before you can say Jumpin' Jack Flash."

Julianna opened the door and Richard stepped into her apartment. He closed and locked it behind him, then turned and met her eyes. They were both adults; they knew exactly what they were doing-why he had run right over, first lying to his wife, then kissing her three times before leaving.

They didn't speak. Julianna moved into his arms and pressed herself against him. Through her sheer gown he felt every curve and hollow of her body. He dropped his hands to her backside and pulled her closer, wanting her to feel how desperately and completely he wanted her.

At the contact, the breath shuddered past her lips. She rubbed herself against his erection, clinging to him, trembling.

He stripped off her gown; she his clothes. Naked they sank to the floor. She took him first in her hands, then her mouth, doing things to his body he had only dreamed of before.

Gasping, he rolled onto his back, lifted and impaled her. She thrust her hips forward and back, driving him to a fever pitch. And when she arched her back and screamed, he orgasmed violently.

Still shuddering with his release, realization set in. He'd fucked another woman, had broken his wedding vows, every promise he had ever made to his wife.

Only this time he couldn't blame his actions on booze or Kate's inattention; he couldn't blame Luke Dallas. What he had done had been with a clear head and full awareness of the consequences.

The consequences. He sucked in a choked breath.

Dear God, he'd ruined his picture-perfect life. He'd thrown it away. On a woman, on a quick, sweaty roll in the hay.

Julianna purred and rubbed herself against him, and he felt sick. At what he'd done. That, God help him, he wanted to do it again. Now. Tomorrow. The day after that.

His body cooled. He tightened his arms around her. Even as he scrambled for a way out of what he'd done, a way to return to the honorable man he had been a minute before he'd succumbed, he realized he couldn't go back. That he didn't want to.

Now that he'd had Julianna, he couldn't imagine not having her again. She was in his blood now.

John stood at the center of Julianna's tiny apartment. He smiled. With satisfaction. In anticipation of their reunion. It would be good, he decided, unable to suppress a shudder. Very good.

He moved his gaze over the room, curious yet repelled. There were no signs of a baby here, no toys or playpen or crib, no cloying smell of formula or powder. As he had known she would once she'd had time to consider her options, she had seen things his way and aborted it.

After all, Julianna was spoiled. She was accustomed to being taken care of, to having her way, to having nice things. Caring for a howling infant night and day, changing soiled diapers and messy bibs was not her style.

Not that one would know it from this hovel of an apartment, he thought, disgusted. Or the jobs she had taken in the past months. He shook his head. He supposed nothing she had done, no depths to which she had sunk since leaving his care, would surprise him anymore.

She would already be home with him if not for her mother and Russell. They had frightened her. They had told her things about him that weren't hers to know; she was confused and afraid. By what they had said. And by her own disobedience. Her disloyalty.

He closed his eyes and drew in a deep, cleansing breath.

His angel had fallen from grace. She had paid the price, living like this. But only part of the price. The rest was to come.

At his loving hands.

John crossed to the desk, shoved into a corner of the living room, and began leafing through the pile of mail on its top. Sale circulars and advertisements, the utility and phone bill. He opened the latter and scanned the register of long distance calls. There were several to New Orleans, all to the same number, two charges for long distance information and one call to Langley, Virginia.

The Agency. John frowned, staring at the familiar number. Why had she called CIA headquarters?