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left. Katherine turned toward the staircase, but before she took a step, she heard the garage door. That could only mean one thing—Mark was home.

      She knew it was completely foolish, but even after twenty-seven years, her heart still beat faster whenever she thought about seeing her husband. So many of her friends talked about the spark going out of their marriage—how nothing was ever exciting or fresh. It wasn’t like that for Katherine—it never had been. Her love for Mark had only grown. In the cliché of movies and TV, he was her handsome prince. While she loved her children, he was the one who truly claimed her heart.

      She ran a hand over her hair, then smoothed the front of her jacket. There wasn’t time to freshen her makeup, so she bit her lips to make them redder and drew in a breath. Being pretty for Mark mattered. Seconds later the utility room door opened and he stepped into the kitchen.

      He looked exactly as he had the first time she’d seen him. Tall and handsome with dark blond hair and deep blue eyes. Those eyes always crinkled slightly, as if he knew a really funny secret. He still took her breath away every time she saw him.

      “Hi, sweetheart,” he said as he moved toward her. “How are you?”

      “Good. You’re home early.”

      “I wanted to see you.”

      Her heart quickened at his words.

      He leaned in and kissed her. The second his mouth touched hers, the familiar wanting flared to life. She hid her reaction to the casual kiss—a trick she’d learned in the first few months of her marriage. But that didn’t make the need go away.

      Years ago she’d read an article about relationships. The author claimed that in most marriages there was the one who adored and the one who was adored. She knew that was true for them. Mark loved her, but he didn’t worship her. He didn’t understand how deeply her feelings ran. She’d learned to control the wild, romantic and sexual feelings swirling inside of her whenever he was close, but she’d never been able to make them go away. He was the only man for her. At least she’d been lucky enough to marry him.

      He took her hand in his and smiled. “Come on. Let’s go talk.”

      “Don’t you want to say hi to the kids?”

      “Later. I want to talk to you first.”

      Mark was a typical guy. Despite his ability to chat with contributors for hours and never break a sweat, anytime she suggested they talk, he had a thousand other things he needed to be doing. So why the sudden change? What was there to talk about? She shivered slightly.

      They went into his book-lined study. He shut the door behind them, then led her to the leather sofa. His expression was unfamiliar. Was he upset? No, that wasn’t right. More resigned. About what? Cold, hard fear knotted in her belly.

      Was he leaving her?

      Her brain pointed out that even if he was desperate to get away, leaving his wife while exploring the possibility of running for president wasn’t a good idea. Her heart whispered that of course he loved her. He’d been busier than usual lately, but that was to be expected. She should stop worrying about nothing. Still, her hands trembled slightly as she folded them in her lap and looked at him.

      “What is it?” she asked.

      She would guess that from the outside, she appeared totally calm and in control. That’s what Mark would see. What she wanted him to see.

      “A young woman came to meet me today,” Mark told her. “Or maybe not so young. She’s twenty-eight. I guess that means I’m getting old. Are you still interested in being married to an old guy? After all, you’re the hot one in our relationship.”

      He spoke easily, smiling, holding her gaze. She should have been relaxed. But she wasn’t. She was terrified and she couldn’t say why.

      “You’re not an old guy,” she said, doing her best not to visibly tremble.

      “Fifty-four.”

      “I’m fifty-six,” she pointed out. “Are you going to trade me in for a younger model?”

      “You’re the most beautiful woman in the world,” he told her. “You’re my wife.”

      Soothing words that should have made her feel better. But they didn’t.

      “So who is this young woman?”

      “Her name is Dani Buchanan. Dani for Danielle, Alex told me later.”

      “Alex? What does he have to do with this?”

      “Not anything, really. He was there and he met her. Tried to run her off. Your son is quite the watchdog.”

      “He cares about his family.”

      “I know.” Mark touched her cheek. “Katherine, do you remember when we were engaged the first time? How you ended things with me?”

      She nodded slowly. She’d been an only child from an old money East Coast family. Her parents hadn’t approved of her relationship with a brash young man from Seattle. Mark had charm and energy but no family to speak of and certainly no pedigree. Still, Katherine had loved him and had won her family over to her way of thinking. Mark had proposed and she had accepted. But six weeks after the engagement, she’d broken things off. She’d been unable to tell Mark the truth about herself. Rather than have him pity her, then leave her, she’d ended their engagement and he’d gone back to Seattle.

      “I came home to figure out what to do with my life,” he said. “While I was here, I met someone. I didn’t mean for anything to happen, but it did.”

      The fear turned sharp, cutting her from the inside. She felt both cold and hot. Her whole body ached and still she sat there unmoving, determined to show nothing.

      “You had a relationship with this woman?” she asked calmly.

      “Yes. She was married. Neither of us meant for it to happen. No one knew, because of her husband. I didn’t want to hurt anyone. One day it ended. I never thought much about it again, until today. Dani is her daughter. My daughter.”

      Katherine stood. Maybe if she moved, the pain wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe then she could breathe. But the white-hot pokers pricked her everywhere and the spacious study offered nowhere to hide.

      “Obviously I didn’t know,” he said, as if unaware that anything was wrong. “Alex suggested a DNA test so we can all be sure. It’s a good idea. She seems like a great girl. She looks like Marsha mostly, but I see a little of me in her. With the campaign, we’ll have to be discreet, of course.”

      Mark kept talking, but Katherine couldn’t hear him. He had a child. A child of his own. A child he’d met.

      “I invited her to dinner,” Mark said. “I want you to meet her. We don’t have to tell the kids who she is right away. But eventually we will.”

      She turned to him. Her face felt frozen. She wasn’t sure she could speak. “She’s coming here?”

      “Tonight.” He stood and crossed to her, then took her hands in his. “I know you’ll like her. Didn’t you say you wanted another daughter?”

      He couldn’t mean that. He couldn’t not know what he was doing to her. And yet he kept talking as if he thought everything was fine. As if she wasn’t devastated that some other woman had been able to give him something she, Katherine, never could.

      ALEX ARRIVED EARLY for dinner at his parents’ house. He’d thought about calling his mother, but had then decided it would be better to speak with her in person. His father might think she would take the news of Dani Buchanan in stride; Alex wasn’t so sure.

      Before he could head up the stairs, Fiona stepped out of his mother’s study.

      “Hello, Alex.”

      He remembered a Discovery Channel special on spiders. Fiona reminded him of a black widow, just biding

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