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Adam found a smile. “They’re not worth a penny,” he answered, then leaned forward. “Fitz, did you ever get a hold of Chet
Farnsworth?” he asked his brother, effectively changing the subject by inquiring about someone on their investigative team.

Fitz spoke over his shoulder, his eyes on the winding road. “Yeah. He’s going to be there tonight if you want to corner him.
I’m not happy with his last report.”

“Neither am I.” Adam braced himself as Fitz turned onto a side street. By the number of parked cars along both sides, he gathered
they’d arrived at their destination. Through the windshield he saw the imposing three-story home with four front pillars flanked
by a wide bay window on each side. “Not bad,” he commented as Fitz turned into the circular drive.

Gorgeous was what Diane would have called it. Through a rush of envy she wondered how it was that Liz had everything neatly
handed to her on a silver platter while she had to struggle for each small victory.

Diane had managed after years of groveling work and nearly impossible odds to land Adam as a husband, but she
had no illusions that theirs was a love match. Love hadn’t been high on her list anyhow. She wanted wealth, prestige, respect,
power. In comparison with the Fairchild home, their conservative house in Sacramento was small and unpretentious. It was enough
for now. But soon, with Adam as a United States senator, they’d be able to afford bigger and better. And they’d get a place
in D.C. as well. As his wife she’d be admired, sought after, while little Liz Fairchild would always be a mere attorney’s
wife.

On that thought Diane smiled as she alighted from the car, taking Adam’s hand.

Liz stood next to her husband in the receiving line, more startlingly beautiful, more quietly elegant, than he remembered.
A sharp pain in Adam’s chest had him breathless for several heartbeats. It took every bit of self-control he possessed to
tear his eyes from her and smile at Richard as he reached to shake hands. “I can’t thank you enough for all this, Richard,”
he said.

“My pleasure, Adam,” Richard said, sounding sincere. His arm around Liz’s waist, he drew her forward. “You remember my wife,
I imagine.”

Adam was inordinately pleased that his hand as it took hers was steady. “Of course. You’re looking lovely, Liz.”

“It’s good to see you, Adam,” she managed over the pounding of her heart. Surely everyone could hear it. Surely everyone could
see how this reunion was affecting her. He looked more handsome than she’d ever seen him, taller than she remembered. “There
are a lot of people here anxious to meet you,” she went on, ever the gracious hostess, indicating others clustered about wearing
eager, welcoming smiles.

“I hope we’ll have time to talk later,” he said, then moved on, hand outstretched to greet Joseph Townsend and his wife.

In a group, perhaps, but not alone, Liz thought. Not if she
could help it. She turned her smile on Adam’s wife. “It’s been a long time, Diane.”

“Yes, hasn’t it?” Diane’s smile had slipped a bit. She’d felt quite pretty on the way over, pleased with her pale yellow dress,
the pearl earrings Adam had given her for their anniversary. She suspected he’d had Fitz order them over the phone, but at
least they were real. Yet now, alongside Liz’s graceful beauty, she felt every inch the poor white trash she’d once been labeled.

Even years ago she’d been unable to compete with Liz in the looks department. How she envied the other woman’s long legs,
her naturally slender form, her classic features. Next to her, Diane felt short, dumpy, and drab, and she hated Liz for it.

“I hope you’ll enjoy Washington,” Liz added, covering the awkward pause.

“I intend to.” Diane brightened her smile and moved along after Adam.

It was going to be a long evening, Liz decided as she greeted Fitz warmly.

Seated at her host’s right hand at the long, elegant dining room table, Diane pretended interest in Richard’s idle chatter.
She’d attended many such functions over the years and was a master at looking as if she were listening intently while her
eyes traveled the table, checking out everyone. Of course, tonight she had trouble concentrating on the other invited guests.
Her gaze kept returning to Liz, seated at the far end of the table, and Adam on her immediate right.

Nodding to one of Richard’s remarks, Diane decided she’d gladly give her best alligator bag to be close enough to hear what
those two were discussing. Fitz was on Liz’s left and included in the conversation, but she didn’t trust her brother-in-law,
either. During the time she’d worked on Adam’s campaign and as one of his aides, she’d won Fitz’s reluctant admiration and
even praise; however, she still felt that personally
he didn’t like her. Since her marriage to Adam, he’d been polite and even friendly on occasion, but he hadn’t really warmed
to her.

Then there was Liz. Diane glanced down and saw Fitz smiling affectionately at her across the table. The fact that her brother-in-law
wasn’t much of a smiler compounded his sin. Adam, too, was laughing at something their hostess had said. So she still had
both McKenzie brothers in her pocket, even after a seven-year hiatus, did she?

Diane sipped her wine as Richard turned to speak to the woman on his other side. Or
had
there been a gap of seven years between the times Adam and Liz had seen each other? Their expressions seemed too familiar
as they talked, their conversation too lengthy, for two people who supposedly hadn’t spoken in such a long while. Narrowing
her gaze, Diane struggled with the green-eyed monster.

It was time to call on Barry Rider again, she decided. A longtime aide to Adam, Barry was a brilliant speechwriter and political
researcher. Working with him all those years, she’d discovered that Barry had a fatal weakness. He gambled: horses, football,
dog races, poker games, anything. It had ruined his marriage and kept him constantly in need of cash, a fact of which Diane
had made good use after her marriage.

Unable to trust Fitz or Adam, fully aware that love didn’t cement her marriage, she needed to know exactly what Adam did when
he was away from her on his frequent trips. There were so many willing women everywhere. It wasn’t that she was jealous, but
rather that she had no intention of letting one of them move in on her man and jeopardize her position. So she’d approached
Barry, who often traveled with Adam and Diane. It had turned out to be a mutually satisfying relationship. He supplied her
with information on her husband’s activities, and she supplied him with cash for his gambling.

So far she’d not learned anything upsetting. Setting down
her glass, Diane watched Adam lean toward Liz as he spoke, his face serious. Yes, it was definitely time to ask Barry to check
out whether those two had been meeting behind her back. She might not have minded if Adam had had an occasional fling with
a nameless, faceless woman he’d never see again. Sex had never been particularly important to Diane, except as a means to
an end. But Liz and Adam had once had a serious affair. Diane was aware that Liz could steal him away, if she set her mind
to it. Supposedly she was happily married to Richard. But outward appearances could be deceiving. Diane wouldn’t rest until
she learned the truth.

Suddenly aware that Richard was talking to her, she turned toward him with a polite smile.

The billiards room had been cleared for dancing, the Oriental rug removed, and the marble floor gleamed invitingly. The band
was locally popular, small but well versed in current favorites. Liz stood on the sidelines, pleased that several couples
had ventured out to try a turn around the floor. She’d dutifully talked at least briefly with nearly everyone in the room
and smiled till her cheeks hurt. Risking rudeness, she glanced at her watch.

“Caught you,” Molly said, coming alongside.

“Can it be only ten?” Liz asked, able to be honest with her best friend.

“Can it be that our hostess isn’t thrilled with her own party?”

“You’ve got that right.” She stepped back out of the way as a couple whirled past. “I’m sorry Nathan couldn’t make it. Now
there’s a real party animal.”

Molly smiled, thinking warmly of the man she loved. “That he is. Unfortunately, his business trip to Mexico couldn’t be postponed.”

“Maybe after you’re married, he’ll cut back on working so hard.” Liz was well aware how badly her friend wanted to get married,
though she would deny it to most people. Divorced
and the father of two, Nathan had been less than eager, though he seemed to care for Molly. After four years of dating they’d
finally set a tentative date for a spring wedding. Liz prayed nothing would go wrong. She wanted only happiness for Molly.

“I can only hope.” She turned so her back was to the room. “How are you holding up? You seemed a bit keyed up at dinner.”
Molly knew only too well how difficult this evening was for Liz.

“Hanging in there,” Liz said, then turned as she felt someone touch her shoulder.

“How about a dance, for old times’ sake?” Adam asked, his eyes unreadable.

There seemed no polite way to refuse. Silently she let him lead her onto the floor and turned into his arms. He was so much
larger than Richard, was her first thought. Her hand was nearly lost in his, and only by tipping back her head could she look
into his eyes. When she did, she found him studying her. She searched for something to say. “I understand it won’t be long
and you’ll be off to Washington, just as you dreamed you would way back when.”

“I have to get elected first.”

Despite her outward calm, her body was responding to his nearness, her blood warming, her limbs feeling heavier. Liz tried
to keep her mind on their conversation. “I have no doubt you will be. It must be gratifying to be so close to reaching your
goal.”

“And you, Liz. Have you reached your goal?”

She dropped her eyes to stare at the front of his white shirt. “Often our goals change. I was very young when… when you and
I last talked about goals. But yes, I have what I want. A devoted husband, a beautiful home, a daughter I love.”

It didn’t escape him that she hadn’t mentioned love in connection with Richard. “Where is your daughter? I thought we might
meet her.”

Thank goodness Sara wasn’t home. It was difficult enough having to handle being close to Adam again. Liz felt her heart thud
in her ears as so many buried feelings came rushing back. “She’s spending the night with my parents. She loves sleeping over.”

“Have you abandoned your sculpting?”

“No. I still dabble in it. Richard built a studio for me. It’s a relaxing hobby.”

Adam had always hated small talk. Holding Liz in his arms again, he felt any residual anger melting and his awareness increasing.
The dance floor was crowded, everyone talking and laughing. He eased her fractionally closer and gave voice to his real thoughts.
“You’re more beautiful than I remember,” he found himself saying. “Can that be?”

She smiled. “You always were able to sweep me off my feet with your romantic statements.”

“But romance wasn’t what you were looking for, was it, Liz?”

“No.”

“What, then?” The question that had been gnawing at him. “Why didn’t you visit me when I phoned you?”

She kept her features bland for anyone who might be watching, but a sudden chill raced down her spine. They were wandering
into murky waters. “You didn’t phone me. Fitz did.”

“Semantics,” he said impatiently. “You knew I wanted you.”

“Wanting isn’t the same as… as…”

“Commitment? You knew I was committed to my obligations just then. But you knew I’d be back for you.”

“Perhaps, in your own sweet time.” She read somewhere that love began when a person started putting another’s needs above
his own. When had he ever done that? Her hand in his was damp, tense. She forced her fingers to relax.

“I just needed a little time. I never promised more because…”

A rush of temper sharpened her tone. “No, you never promised me a damn thing.”

Now he caught the anger, the hurt. “And Richard did?”

“Yes. Richard loved me. He still does.”

“So did I,” Adam said, knowing it was still true.

Liz’s expression was a mixture of surprise and disbelief. “If so, you did a marvelous job of keeping it a secret.”

He had no snappy comeback to that. He moved his lips close to her ear. “Do you ever think back on our hours together, Liz?
There are times I become steeped in useless memories despite my best resolves to forget you.”

She felt his warm breath in her ear but didn’t answer.

He’d thought he was over his anger at her rejection. Apparently he wasn’t. The thought of her in the marriage bed with Richard
had him churning. “Are you as passionate with him as you were with me, or do you save all your passion for the clay?”

She made as if to pull back from him, but he held her fast. Tension had her trembling. “That’s none of your business.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

Liz managed to put some space between them, capturing his eyes. “Why are you doing this?”

Why indeed. Adam let out a ragged breath and eased his hold on her. “I’m sorry.”

“I wonder if you even know what loving someone means.”

“Oh, yeah. Only I learned too late.” He squeezed the hand he held. “I was wrong, Liz. I should have said more back then, explained
things. I should have come for you.”

She couldn’t bear the sudden sadness in his eyes. “Let’s not do this, Adam. There’s nothing to be gained in regretting a past
we can’t change.”

Peripherally he saw Diane watching them, her expression cold and angry. He didn’t give a damn. He shifted Liz closer again,
thinking that one of the things he’d missed most was the way her body fit so beautifully to his. “You’re happy, then?”

There was that question again. How to answer? “Are you?” she countered.

He was quiet a long minute. “I wonder if anyone is.” The music ended, and he reluctantly let her go.

She stood looking up at him, afraid he could read her clearly yet unable to look away. “I wish you every good thing, Adam.”