One

      Tom Knox hurried down the hall of the Texas Cattleman’s Club, his footsteps muffled by the thick carpet. The dark wood-paneled walls held oil paintings and two tall mirrors in wide ornate frames. There were potted palms and chairs covered in antique satin. Tom was so accustomed to his surroundings he paid no attention until a woman rounded the corner at the end of the long hall.

      Tom’s insides clutched and heat filled him as he looked at his estranged wife, Emily Archer Knox. Physical attraction, definitely lust, hit him as his gaze swept over her.

      Wavy honey-brown hair framed her face. Her hair was always soft to touch. There was no way to shut off the memories, no matter how much they hurt or stirred him. A red linen suit with a matching linen blouse and red high heels added to her attractiveness. The red skirt ended above her knees, leaving her shapely legs bare to her ankles. His imagination filled in how she would look without the red linen. While desire ran rampant, at the same time, a shroud of guilt enveloped him. He had failed her in the worst way possible.

      Each time he saw Emily, guilt gnawed at him for failing to save the life of their four-year-old son, Ryan, after a tour bus accident on a family ski vacation in Colorado. It had been five long, guilt-ridden years since then, and a chilly bitterness had settled in between them. His life had improved only slightly last year when he’d moved out of the house to the guesthouse on their ranch. They could go for weeks