Family Man

mate. The attraction had been mutual and instantaneous. They had had only eighteen months together before she was killed. During that time they had loved together and fought together in a torrid, simmering whirlwind of all-consuming passion.
    It had come as a shock to Luke that in addition to love, lust, and possessiveness he had experienced an excruciating jealousy with Ariel. That emotion was unexpected because Luke had grown up with the example of his parents' marriage. Thornton and Cleo had been bonded for life, and each of them knew it. Each had trusted the other completely, and Luke had taken such intimate bonding between man and wife for granted. He had expected it in his own marriage.
    But Ariel had almost seemed to enjoy tormenting him at times. It was as if his passionate jealousy aroused her. He did not believe she had ever actually been unfaithful during their short marriage, but she had made no secret of the fact that she delighted in the admiration of other men.
    Deep down inside Luke sometimes wondered what would have happened if the marriage had lasted five, ten, or twenty years. No other woman had ever had the power to arouse the violent emotions in him that Ariel had. On the other hand, no other woman had ever been able to suck him into a vortex of desire the way Ariel had, either.
    The memories of the nights spent with Ariel in his arms still haunted him.
    Yes, he might remarry one of these days, he decided, but never a woman like Katy. He knew what he wanted and needed in a wife. He needed someone like Ariel, a woman whose dark passions matched his own.
    The problem was that it was highly unlikely he would ever encounter another woman like Ariel.
    Luke walked into his study and sat down at his desk. He gazed at the blank computer screen for a long moment but did not immediately reach out to switch on the machine.
    Now that he had started thinking about what he required in a wife, he could not seem to stop. Katy Wade had done this to him, he decided grimly. Her presence in his house had somehow brought the old, bone-deep hungers to the surface.
    “Shit,” Luke muttered. It was going to be a long night.
    Zeke padded into the study with his dish in his mouth. He dropped the metal bowl on the floor near Luke's chair and flopped down next to it. Luke reached out and idly rubbed the big dog behind his ears. Zeke rumbled with satisfaction.
    When Zeke had first appeared in Luke's front yard the dog had been scrawny and desperate. It was obvious he had been abused, starved, and abandoned. The last thing Zeke had wanted was to be touched by a human being. But he had also been hungry. Very, very hungry.
    Luke had understood and respected the courage it had taken for Zeke to approach the house. Zeke had not begged, but he seemed to have realized that he had reached the end of the line. The dog had just stood there shivering in the rain, waiting with an air of stoic challenge for whatever fate held in store.
    Luke had found the old metal dish, filled it up with canned chili, and put it out in the yard. The chili had vanished within seconds, and Luke had filled the bowl a second time.
    One thing had led to another, and a pattern was established. Zeke disappeared during the day and returned in the evenings for a bowl of chili. Six weeks after the dog's arrival a freezing rainstorm struck the high bluff. Luke had opened the front door and found Zeke huddled on the porch, the bowl in his mouth.
    Luke stood back and held open the door. Zeke padded warily inside and found a place by the fire. He had been there ever since.
    “You and I are definitely two of a kind, Zeke. We don't need lectures on family responsibility from a self-righteous little redhead.”
    Zeke looked up at him.
    “Okay, I don't need lectures from her,” Luke amended. “You can make your own decisions.”
    Zeke rumbled agreement and sprawled on the floor.
    Luke pushed the distracting image of Katy Wade out of his mind and punched up the spreadsheet he had been working on that morning. He forced himself to concentrate on his latest consulting project. It was a routine task resembling countless other such projects he had undertaken in recent years. He should be able to finish off this job tonight or tomorrow morning at the latest, he thought.
    And when he was finished he would write his report for the client and collect another hefty fee to add to the treasure Katy Wade had accused him of hoarding.
    Luke eyed the screen full of numbers.