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“Why are you doing this?” Molly asked. “I know you don’t love him.”

With a sigh, Liz turned to face her friend. “We’ve been over this. He loves me. I like and respect him. It’s the right thing
to do. Please, can we drop it?” She didn’t want to cry, not today. For Richard’s sake.

“I’m sorry. It’s just that I want you to be happy, and… and I wish you’d have talked with Adam.”

She hadn’t told Molly. Her friend had guessed. Liz lowered her voice even though the door was closed. “Would you want to spend
your life with a man who felt trapped? Believe me, it’s better this way.” Her voice sounded strong, almost as if she believed
it herself.

Without preamble the door swung open and Nancy teetered in, a glass half filled with champagne in her hand, revealing no visible
signs of her recent auto accident. “Well, well, big sister. Aren’t you a vision?”

They hadn’t known until she’d shown up if Nancy would attend. You could never tell about Nancy. Liz couldn’t help wondering
if her sister was hurt that she’d asked Molly to be her maid of honor. It hadn’t been an intentional slight, but rather a
heartfelt choice. Molly had always been in her corner.

“You look nice,” Liz told her sister, hoping she sounded sincere. Nancy wasn’t a natural beauty, but she was slender, with
large breasts that had been turning men’s heads since she’d turned twelve. She wore a red knit dress that clung to every curve,
half a dozen jangling gold bracelets, and dark eye makeup that had been applied with a heavy hand. The overall effect came
across more garish than stylish. Still, Liz thought that Nancy looked better than she’d expected, considering several years
of heavy drinking.

Nancy took a long swallow of champagne. “Sure is different from my wedding day. Mom was too shocked to talk to me, and dear
old Daddy wouldn’t even meet us at the JP’s and give me away. Not that I wanted him there.”

The last thing Liz wanted to do was start in on the past. Putting on another fake smile, she looked pointedly at her watch.
“The bridal march should be starting any minute.”

“I’m going,” Nancy said, not too far gone to get the hint. “Good luck, sis. Not that you’ll need it. You always were the charmed
one.” She glanced around the room slowly, as if troubled memories lurked in every corner. “You should thank your lucky stars
you’ll be free of this place.” Quickly she drained her glass and left the room.

“What did she mean by that?” Molly asked.

“I wouldn’t know. But then, I often don’t know what’s behind Nancy’s cryptic statements.” With a final glance in the mirror,
she swung around. “How do I look?”

Molly grew serious, blinking back tears. They’d been best friends forever, it seemed. She fervently wished she felt good about
this marriage. “Beautiful, as always. I hope you’ll be happy, Liz. I just wish…”

Liz grabbed her hands, blinking rapidly as well. “Don’t start, please.”

Pressing her lips together, Molly nodded. They heard the music begin. She pulled her friend close for a long, tremulous hug,
then put on the brightest smile she could muster. “Here we go, kid.”

Swallowing her tears, Liz smiled back. “Lead the way.”

It wasn’t working. Adam swung his leather swivel chair around and gazed out at a late January sun sinking behind the State
Capitol Building. In the next room, Fitz, Jesse, and Diane were hammering out the final points of a case he was to try in
front of the state supreme court next week. He was supposed to be gathering his notes. But he couldn’t concentrate,
something that had plagued him the last several weeks. Finally he’d admitted to himself the reason why.

Liz Townsend.

He tossed aside the Mont Blanc pen he’d been toying with and, frustrated, ran a hand through his hair. Here he was working
hard at a job he truly loved, the job he’d set his sights on. And he’d discovered that he was good at it, at zeroing in on
the ethical approach to the state’s cases, although not necessarily the politically correct method. He was managing in this
short time to get the job done, keeping the reigning powers happy, and keep his opponents at bay. He felt an early, hesitant
sense of accomplishment.

Yet something was missing.

Difficult as it was to admit, that something was Liz, and the joy she’d brought him. He’d thought he could set aside his feelings
for her, get thoroughly engrossed, wait to develop things further. But he couldn’t get her off his mind. Finally he’d come
to the only possible conclusion: He loved her.

She’d brought him a special pleasure that no one else ever had. Not just in bed, but during all the many hours they’d talked,
sharing their thoughts, their feelings about the future. She was intelligent, quick, talented, and beautiful. It was mostly
her beauty that had frightened him, his need for her giving her too much power over him; but the recent realization that he
loved her had erased his fear. He’d been a fool to think he could put a woman like her on ice while he went about securing
his career. He’d have to remedy the situation immediately.

He swiveled about, picked up the phone, and dialed her apartment. In a moment the recording came on, explaining that the number
had been disconnected. Puzzled, he replaced the receiver.

Had she moved back home with her folks? Doubtful, for she’d wanted to break away from their possessiveness. Maybe she’d moved
in with her friend Molly. Fitz kept in
touch with some of the volunteers down San Diego way. He called his brother in.

“I’ve been trying to reach Liz, but her apartment number’s disconnected. Do you know if she’s moved in with Molly or where
she might be?”

Fitz slowly rearranged his baseball hat as he dropped onto the chair across the desk from Adam. He’d been both dreading this
moment and wishing it were over. “Yeah, I know where she is. Pacific Beach.”

Adam frowned. “What’s she doing there?”

“Setting up housekeeping. She got married, Adam. On Christmas Eve. To Richard Fairchild. I saw it in the San Diego paper a
couple of weeks ago. I didn’t tell you because… well, what was the point? You weren’t seeing her anymore.”

Stunned, Adam sat down. Married? How could Liz be married? He could scarcely believe his ears. As close as they’d been for
all those months, she’d gotten married to someone else almost as soon as he’d left town. He’d told her he’d send for her as
soon as he could. He’d invited her up for a weekend, and she’d turned him down. Now he knew why.

Richard Fairchild. He remembered meeting him. Short, thinning hair, overeager. Like a damn puppy. Old enough to be her father.
She’d once told him that she was content to remain friends with Richard. What had changed her mind and sent her running into
his waiting arms? What could Fairchild give her that Adam couldn’t?

“I knew you’d be upset,” Fitz went on, watching Adam’s face, noting the scowl.

Adam straightened, scooting his chair closer to the desk. “Upset? Hell, no. If she wants to marry that wimp, let her.” He
directed his stormy gaze out the window, wishing it didn’t hurt so damn much.

Her marriage had surprised Fitz, too. Watching her with Adam, he’d been certain she cared for no one else. Of course, he hadn’t
known a lot about women, but Liz had
struck him as a one-man woman. “Maybe it’s for the best,” he offered lamely.

“Damn right it is. She almost got me off track, almost had me walking away from my obligations, all the people depending on
me.” His voice grew soft, low. “Like with Dad. I had a real weakness for Liz.”

“It’s no sin to fall in love,” Fitz said quietly. No sin, but it surely could take the wind out of a man’s sails if things
didn’t work out. He ought to know. It had happened to him.

“Love? You call it love when a man leaves for a few weeks and his woman turns around and marries the first handy guy? If that’s
love, you can keep it.”

His woman?
Fitz could only imagine what Liz would say to that. “I’m no expert, but Liz seemed like a good person to me.”

“I don’t want to hear her name mentioned around here again.” Adam picked up his pen and yanked open a file. “Time to get back
to work.”

“Yeah, right.” Fitz left, knowing Adam needed some time alone, time to adjust. He was fooling no one with his blustery act.
Fitz knew he was hurting.

Adam stared unseeingly at the papers in front of him, clenching his hands into fists. He would get over her. He had his work,
people who needed him, challenges waiting. He didn’t need her or anyone else to make his life complete. He would throw himself
into his work.

And to hell with Liz Townsend.

Reverend Wilfred Blaine dribbled holy water onto the baby’s head, wetting the blond fuzz. The child’s godmother, Molly Washington,
carefully held tiny Sara Jane Fairchild suspended over the font as the minister finished the baptismal ceremony. The sleeping
infant didn’t even awaken, surprising her relatives and friends gathered on the Fairchild sun porch two Sundays after the
Fourth of July.

“What a good baby,” Katherine Townsend whispered to her daughter as they watched Reverend Blaine dry Sara’s hair with a soft
white cloth. “You’re very fortunate, Liz.”

Liz smiled in agreement, unable to keep her eyes from her beautiful daughter. “I know. Hardly two weeks old and she’s already
sleeping six hours at a stretch.”

“You were like that,” Katherine recalled, fingering her strand of pearls. “You rarely cried. Such a joy to have around.” Her
expression changed to one of remembered exasperation. “Nancy had colic for six months. She cried night and day. I thought
I’d go out of my mind.”

Liz didn’t comment, but she wished her mother would stop taking every opportunity to compare her two daughters. It was hardly
Nancy’s fault she’d had colic.

Her sister hadn’t shown up for this occasion, although Liz had called to invite her. It was probably just as well. After the
scene she’d created at their wedding reception, quarreling drunkenly with their father in the library, Liz wasn’t anxious
to give her another opportunity. She felt guilty at times about her sister, wondering if she’d tried hard enough to get through
to her. Nancy rebuffed everyone’s attempt to get her to talk about her drinking and her self-destructive lifestyle.

Watching Richard take the baby from Molly and cuddle her lovingly, Liz felt another rush of guilt over her own happiness.
Perhaps if Nancy’s marriage had worked, if she hadn’t turned to the bottle, she’d be different.

“I’ve never seen a man more enthralled with a baby than Richard,” Katherine commented.

Liz smiled as Richard pointed out Sara’s perfect features to his law partner, Tom Nelson, the baby’s godfather. An unmarried
man, Tom was trying to look properly enthused. “I think it’s wonderful.”

She couldn’t have asked for a better husband or a more attentive father. Richard had encouraged her to redecorate their home,
bought her gifts large and small so often that it was almost embarrassing, had attended Lamaze classes faithfully, and been
present when Sara had come into the world. With tears in his eyes, he’d held the tiny bundle minutes after her birth. He couldn’t
have been more devoted if he’d been her biological father.

Reverend Blaine stood alongside Richard, studying the baby as she yawned, stretched, and blinked against the sun’s glare.
“You know, Katherine,” he said as he glanced up, “I believe Sara Jane resembles you with her fair hair and those blue eyes.
Her parents are both dark.”

“Then I’d say she’s mighty lucky,” Joseph Townsend said, sliding a hand along his wife’s waist.

Katherine smiled up at her husband. “Thank you, dear.”

Unaware of the fuss, Sara dozed off again. At Liz’s signal, the live-in nanny Richard had insisted on hiring gently took the
guest of honor from him. “You might as well take her upstairs for now, Dorey,” Liz said, touching the hem of the long white
christening gown that she’d worn at her own baptism. “It seems that Sara Jane intends to sleep through her first party.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Dorey said, then left the room.

Richard walked over to where the champagne sat chilling and worked at popping the cork as their housekeeper, Emma Drake, appeared,
carrying a tray of glasses.

“Looks like you and I produce beautiful girl children,” Joseph commented to Richard as he joined him.

“That we do,” Richard agreed, pouring.

“Maybe the next one will be a boy,” Joseph added, taking a glass from the tray.

Richard caught his wife’s eye briefly, then looked away. “I wanted a girl,” he told his father-in-law.

He had wanted a boy, Joseph remembered while the others helped themselves to the champagne, a boy to work with him in his
office. But Katherine had had two miscarriages after the girls, and by then he’d decided to have a vasectomy. Fortunately
a urologist friend had just begun doing them as an in-office procedure. Unknown to Katherine, Joseph had had one, because
by then he’d decided he needed outside stimulation from time to time, and he wasn’t about to take a chance on one of his dalliances
claiming he’d fathered her child.

He glanced over at Katherine, always so serene, never a hair out of place. He’d been so impressed with her cool, blond beauty
when they’d first met, and with her family’s wealth and connections. She’d had a lot of men after her, but he was the one
who’d won her. Then he’d worked eighteen and twenty hours a day, amassing a small fortune so her father
could never say Joseph Townsend had married his daughter for her money.

He loved his work, the challenges, his life in general. If he strayed from hearth and home occasionally, it didn’t mean he
loved his wife and daughters any less. A man needed more than what one woman could provide, at least a virile man like him.
He’d always been extremely discreet, except that one time. And even then Katherine had never learned of the incident. And
she never would. He’d make sure of that.

Joseph turned to Richard, who was looking at Liz adoringly. Cynic that he was, Joseph wondered how long it would be before
Richard tired of the ties that bound and began to look about. He loved his daughter, but he wouldn’t blame Richard for an
occasional flirtation, provided he was prudent. Liz was beautiful, but she gave every indication that she was as cool as her
mother. Women like them didn’t understand that a man needed heated passion now and again to feel like a man.