Maddy wondered if Zack's housekeeper had been listening from the kitchen doorway, because she appeared immediately, and didn't look the least bit surprised to see Theresa.

"Dahlia," Zack said, clearing his throat. "This is Theresa."

"Hello, Theresa." Dahlia's manner was warm, and, though no less queenly than usual, seemed to have softened indefinably. Maybe it was her voice, Maddy mused, still rich and mellow, but a little lighter, like an oboe played pianissimo. "I am so pleased to meet you."

"Theresa, this is Dahlia."

Theresa's head swiveled from Dahlia to Zack. In a loud whisper she asked, "Is she your mother?"

Maddy stifled a squeak and looked at Dahlia, who was trying to control her smile. Zack laughed and said, "No, she's not my mother. But she does take care of me."

Theresa nodded solemnly. This was something she could understand. "I don't have a mother either. But Dottie's taking care of me now. She lets me make cookies. I got to mash 'em with a fork!"

Zack looked at Maddy with raised eyebrows and mouthed, "I thought she was shy!" He seemed slightly dazed. Maddy laughed silently and shook her head. She'd been discovering that, freed from the fear of violence, Theresa could be quite a little character. In fact she could probably, as Maddy's father would have put it, "talk the hind leg off a mule."

"Well," Dahlia said, looking impressed and a bit dazed herself. "I'm fixing supper right this minute. Would you like to help me make the salad?"

"Are we going to stay for supper?" Theresa asked, tipping her head back to look at Maddy. Maddy looked at Zack, who nodded. "What are we having for supper? I smell something good."

"Lasagne," Zack and Dahlia said together.

"Oh, I love lasagne! But I can't help make the salad." Theresa shook her head sadly.

"Why not, baby?" Dahlia looked gravely disappointed. Zack shrugged and looked at Maddy, who shrugged back.

" 'Cause Zack says I have to practice my kick."

"Tell you what," Zack said, dropping a hand to Theresa's shoulder. "I bet Dahlia wouldn't mind if you came and swam for a little while, and then helped with the salad."

"That would be good," Theresa said, nodding judiciously.

"That's fine," Dahlia agreed.

"Okay, squirt-scoot. Go get your suit on." As Maddy turned Theresa toward the hallway, Zack said in an undertone to Dahlia, "Give us fifteen minutes, then come and get her. And Dahl… thanks!" He dropped a quick kiss on the housekeeper's cheek and bounded down the stairs to the basement. Dahlia gave Maddy an enigmatic look and turned back to the kitchen.

Thanks? Maddy wondered. What for? For being nice to Theresa? For keeping her occupied? For fixing dinner? What? There were undercurrents here she didn't understand! She was still frowning over it as she took Theresa's hand and turned down the hall to the bathroom. Theresa, oblivious to undercurrents, was experimentally chanting, "Squirt, scoot, suit… Squoot, sirt… Hey, that's a tongue twister!"

He was so wonderful with her, Maddy thought as she sat in a deck chair and watched Zack work with Theresa in the shallow end of the pool. Really wonderful…

He used the same firm, no-nonsense approach Maddy remembered from that day at the public pool, but there was no comparing this Theresa with the frail creature who had clung so timidly to Maddy's hand and flinched in fear from Zack's touch. Maddy couldn't believe how far the girl had come in so little time. It seemed nothing short of miraculous to her to watch that tiny child fling herself off the side of the pool and into the water without a moment's hesitation, then kick to the surface and strike out with confidence for the side.

Maddy wondered if she would ever be able to come up out of the water the way Theresa did, laughing as she pushed streaming hair out of her face.

Now Zack had abandoned his teacher's role and was romping with Theresa like a playful dolphin. Sometimes he seemed to play so roughly that Maddy gasped and had to cover her eyes, but Theresa's shrieks and yelps were of joy and excitement, not fear. And Maddy noticed that whether Zack was tossing her into the air or ducking her in the water, his hands were always gentle, strong, and sure.

She trusts him, Maddy thought, remembering the way those firm and gentle hands had held her that day at the pool, remembering his voice in her ear saying, "You can do it."

She had trusted him, too, enough to put her face into the water. It was only when he let her go, she realized now, that she'd fainted.

She watched Zack take Theresa to the deep end of the pool on his back, knifing through the water with a powerful breaststroke, while Theresa giggled ecstatically and clung to his neck. And she remembered vividly the way that powerful body had aligned itself under hers, his chest muscles sliding against her back, the way her legs had tangled unexpectedly with his…

Something flip-flopped inside her. She folded her arms across her waist and leaned over, pressing tightly against a hollow, quivery feeling in her stomach.

"Hey, what's the matter? Butterflies?" Zack was standing there dripping and grinning, wiping his face with a towel.

Theresa peered at her around Zack's legs, black eyes sparkling above the folds of her own towel as she announced, "I had fun! Did you see me swim? Pretty soon I can go off the diving board. Zack says so!"

"Not so fast, squirt. Not until I tell you you can, and not unless I'm right there, understand?"

"Okay," Theresa muttered reluctantly. She recovered her bounce and sparkle when she saw Dahlia coming toward her with outstretched hands. "Oh, boy. Now we get to make salad! Hi, Dahlia! What do I get to do?"

"First of all, you get to get yourself out of those wet things," Dahlia said firmly. With a glance at Maddy and a nod toward Zack, the housekeeper took Theresa by the hand and led her, hopping and skipping in anticipation, into the house.

Zack, watching them go, shook his head and murmured, "What a difference." He turned to Maddy, who was still holding her stomach together. "You really have butterflies about this."

She shook her head-a silent lie. Actually, the butterflies were worse than ever. Oh, not the cold, sick kind. She hadn't felt those in ages. These were the hot, quivery kind she was coming to associate with only one thing: Zack's nearness.

What now? she wondered.

Zack was looking at her as if he were thinking the same thing. Then he held out his hand and said sternly, "Come on, Amanda. Your turn."

"Aren't we going in the hot tub first?" she asked plaintively as he pulled her out of the deck chair.

"Uh-uh. Not this time." He gave her a little half-smile that was warm with sensual memories. "Can't let you get too spoiled. Come on." He jumped into the water and patted the brick coping. "Sit down."

Maddy reluctantly obeyed, lowering her feet gingerly into the water.

Zack stepped close to her. The hard muscles of his belly bumped her knees. She caught her lower lip between her teeth and looked into his face, then couldn't restrain a tiny gasp as she felt his hands on her waist.

"Take it easy," he said, sounding irritated. "I'm not going to hurt you. Put your hands on my shoulders and jump down." When she hesitated, he snapped, "Come on, you can see the water isn't even waist deep."

Now he was angry with her, she thought, and wished she knew why.

All at once she felt depressed, utterly mired in wretchedness. She pressed her lips together as she placed her hands on Zack's broad shoulders. She focused on the off-center dimple in his chin to take her mind off the feel of that warm, resilient muscle beneath her palms… and the pressure of his hands on her body.

"Now," he said when she was standing in the waistdeep water, trying not to shiver, "follow me."

Not that she had any choice-his hands were still holding her waist. Her fingers clutched the hard, wet muscle of his shoulders as he pulled her slowly into deeper water. She could feel his gaze on her face and knew without looking that he was frowning. She kept her own gaze steadfastly glued to his chin, because she didn't dare meet his eyes. If she looked up, if she tilted her head just a little, her face would be only inches away from his. She could feel the cool stirring of his breath on her damp forehead.

The water swirled around her like the cool kiss of fine silk. When it touched her chest, Zack stopped and said, "Now, Maddy, I want you to bend your knees and let the water come right up to your chin."

Her knees turned to rubber. She couldn't make them obey. "Zack-"

"Come on, Maddy. Do it." His voice was hard and uncompromising, but the pressure of his hands on her waist remained constant. He wouldn't force her, she knew that, yet she felt compelled nonetheless. She closed her eyes and lowered herself until the water lapped at her chin.

"Good girl…" Zack's voice became a reassuring drone. "Now close your mouth and let the water cover your lips. Just your lips. Keep your mouth closed, now…"

Maddy tried. She really did try. She closed her mouth and tried to pretend the water was something else. Cloth… flower petals… But the images wouldn't stay put. They kept breaking up into green, slimy blackness. The tension under her ribs rose into her throat, strangling her, choking the life out of her…

"No!" She erupted from the water with a cry of pure terror. "No. I can't!" She turned, groping wildly for the edge of the pool.

Zack's arms imprisoned her, coming around her from behind to prevent her escape. Hard arms, holding her tightly, just holding her, while she struggled and fought him with blind futility. He didn't try to speak until she had relaxed against him, limp and defeated. Then he said in quiet triumph, "That's it, isn't it? It's just your/ace. You can't stand the water on your face. Babe, don't you know how natural that is? Almost everybody hates putting his face in the water at first, but after you've done it a few times and you find out it isn't going to kill you, it isn't nearly as bad as you thought. Then-"