The childhood passion had stayed with him through school, through university, through a brief tenure lecturing in art history at a small college. Then he had abandoned the steady salary for a much more precarious- and infinitely more interesting- life as a dealer in English porcelain.

"So, will this bowl make your fortune? If you can bear to part with it, that is," Otto added with a twinkle born of long association with dealers.

Alex sighed. "Needs must, I'm afraid. And I have an idea who might be interested."

Otto gazed at him for a moment with an expression Alex couldn't quite fathom. "You're thinking Karl Arrowood would want it."

"It's right up Arrowood's alley, isn't it? You know what Karl's like; he won't be able to resist." Alex imagined the bowl elegantly displayed in the window of Arrowood Antiques, one more thing of beauty for Karl to possess, and the bitterness of his envy seeped into his soul.

"Alex-" Otto seemed to hesitate, then leaned closer, his dark eyes intent. "I do know what he's like, perhaps more than you. You'll forgive my interfering, but I've heard certain things about you and Karl's young wife. You know what this place is like"- his gesture took in more than the café- "nothing stays secret for long. And I fear you do not realize what you're dealing with. Karl Arrowood is a ruthless man. It doesn't do to come between him and the things he owns."

"But-" Alex felt himself flushing. "How-" But he knew it didn't matter how, only that his affair with Dawn Arrowood had become common knowledge, and that he'd been a fool to think they could keep it hidden.