Erica Spindler - Cause for Alarm

Kate brought the heels of her hands to her eyes, furious at her tears. He didn't deserve them, the lying, cheating SOB.

Her husband. How could he have betrayed her this way?

She sank to the couch. How long? she wondered. Had he started the affair after he hired Julianna? Or had he hired his lover? She brought a hand to her mouth. Dear God, was Julianna the first?

A month ago that thought would never have occurred to her. But then, only a matter of hours ago, she'd had a good marriage. Perfect, she'd thought-even with the few rough patches. A loving husband, a happy life.

Now she- Her tears spilled over once more. Standing, she went in search of a tissue. Finding it, she blew her nose, tossed the used tissue in the trash, then grabbed another. Had Richard ever loved her? Or had he married her out of competition with Luke? Or because she, stupid, doting fool, had always given him everything he wanted?

Because she had always given him what he wanted. Before Emma, she had been happy to cater to him, to his needs, desires and plans. She had been so grateful to be Mrs. Richard Ryan.

Selfish asshole, she thought, suddenly furious. He hadn't wanted to share with Emma. Richard had always needed to be number one. Always had to be the center of attention. She knew that about him, had always known it. But she had thought he would be man enough, adult enough, to share with a child.

Apparently, she had been wrong.

But then, she had been wrong about a lot of things lately.

The doorbell pealed. Startled, she swung toward the door. Through the beveled glass panel she saw the figure of a man. He turned slightly in her direction, as if spotting her, then lifted a hand in greeting.

Nick Winters, she realized, both surprised and dismayed. What was he doing here?

Pulling herself together, she crossed to the door. She cracked it open. "Hello, Kate," he said, smiling. "I'm sorry to bother you so late, but I was hoping to buy another piece of your stained glass."

She shook her head, gripping the doorknob more tightly. "I'm sorry, Nick, but tonight's not good. Maybe tomorrow?"

"Kate, please." He placed his hand on the door. "It's for my mother. Her birthday's the day after tomorrow and…" He met her eyes. "Please, Kate. She'd love your work."

She glanced at her watch, then back at him. The last thing she wanted was a visitor. Especially Nick Winters. "This really isn't a good time. Couldn't it wait?"

"It can't." He lowered his voice to a soft plea. "Please, Kate. It would mean the world to her."

She hesitated, then relented and opened the door the rest of the way. "It'll have to be quick. I'm not feeling too well tonight."

He stepped inside, his expression sympathetic. "I see that. I'm so sorry, Kate."

She swallowed against the feeling that he knew exactly why she didn't feel well, and led him downstairs to her glass studio. Many of her pieces were hung, but she had others stored in a flat file. He flipped through them without speaking.

His silence began to make her nervous. Something about it felt wrong-too quiet, too intense. Too…full.

She glanced at her watch again, suddenly realizing what she had done-let a man she knew virtually nothing about into her home when she was alone. A man who had shown no remorse at another's death, one who had upset her just that afternoon.

The hair on her arms and at the back of her neck stood up, and she cleared her throat. "Do you see one you like?"

He didn't answer, and she took the tiniest step backward, hoping he wouldn't notice, wondering if she made a run for it how far she would get.

"I'm really not feeling well tonight. Could we please cut this short?"

He looked at her. In his pale gaze she saw something akin to pity. "I know what it's like to be betrayed, Kate. To have your love and trust thrown back in your face." He lowered his voice to a silky caress. "I know how much that hurts."

She swallowed hard, unsettled. By the intimacy in his tone, the way he was looking at her. "It's late, Nick. I think you'd better go."

She took a step back from him-he followed. "Richard's sleeping and…and I told him I'd be right there. He'll be down here any minute to check on me."

Nick shook his head, pity in his eyes once more. "I saw them together. I know." He cupped Kate's face in his palms, forcing her to look at him. "I like you, Kate. I do. I wish things could be different."

She tried to pull away; he tightened his grip. It felt as if her face were caught in a vice. "Do you think about revenge?" he asked. "About making him pay?"

A sound slipped past her lips, a small squeak of terror. The sound amused him, she saw. Pleased him. The smile that touched his lips sent a chill clear to her bones.

"Loyalty is all, Kate Ryan. You and I know that. When trust is broken, all that remains is vengeance. ‘For vengeance is mine, sayeth the Lord."'

He relaxed his fingers slightly and drew his thumb across her mouth, the gesture almost absentminded. Kate stood frozen in his hands, barely able to contain her shudders of fear. Who was this man? What was he?

A monster, she thought in horror. She had let a monster into her home.

Emma. Asleep in her crib, alone, defenseless.

Oh, God. Don't let him hurt my daughter, she silently begged. Please, not my baby.

"I like you," he said again, softly, his tone laced with regret. He bent toward her. His breath stirred against her ear. "It'll be all over soon. Sooner than you can even imagine."

He dropped his hands, then turned and walked away. Kate watched him go, frozen to the spot, shaking so badly her teeth chattered. He climbed her stairs; she heard him cross the floor above her head, heard her front door snap shut.

That final sound penetrated her fear, galvanizing her to action. With a cry of pure terror, she raced up the stairs. To the nursery. Emma was there in her crib, asleep, her chest rising and falling with her breathing.

Kate said a prayer of thanks; it played over and over in her head, even as she left Emma and ran to the front door. She locked it, then looked out the glass panel.

Nick stood beside his car, gazing up at the house. Up at her. Kate brought a trembling hand to her mouth. Her fear amused him. Her attempts to protect herself and her child. She sensed that if he wanted to hurt her, he would. If he wanted to hurt Emma. A door and dead bolt wouldn't keep him out.

Nothing would.

Quickly, she snapped off the foyer light, leaving her in darkness and him in light. He lifted a hand, as if in acknowledgment of her terror, then climbed into his car. A moment later he backed out of the drive, his headlights cutting through the darkness, the twin beams bouncing crazily through the branches of the oaks, the effect like carnival lights.

She turned and hurried from window to window, checking them, locking the ones that weren't, dead-bolting the doors, her panic growing.

Sobbing now, she retrieved Richard's hunting rifle from their bedroom closet. She loaded it, her hands shaking so badly it took her three tries to slip the shells into the chamber. Taking it and the cordless phone, she went to Emma's room. Clutching both to her chest, she sank to the floor beside the crib.

Richard took one last glance at Julianna's front door, then started across the porch. He hated to leave Julianna while she slept, but he couldn't stay. It wouldn't look right for him to be here overnight; he had his reputation to think of, the firm's, his campaign.

He hadn't been able to sleep anyway. Every time he'd closed his eyes, he had seen Kate's face, her wounded expression as she had told him he was no longer welcome in his own home.

God forgive him, he hadn't gone after her. He had stayed with Julianna. She had held and comforted him; she had understood his confusion and pain. Comforting had become passion, then urgency. She had taken him into her hands, then mouth, and when, finally, she had taken him inside her, Kate and his ruined marriage had been far from his thoughts.