Lust at first sight

Brown eyes soft as velvet. A firm handshake and direct gaze. A tall, lean physique and true presence. Sometimes it takes but one conversation on the telephone—his baritone voice resonating through the phone lines to set my heart to quaking—or a mere handshake, fingers barely brushing, to recall that the world is populated by men who could have been the one.

For those of us who are married and are not about to risk all for the thrill of a new romance—the accelerated heartbeat and liquid warmth, the wonder, beauty and excitement of passion discovered anew—do romance novels fill the void? Is that what I should tell myself when I think of the man newly separated from his spouse who is selling his house to me? A romance novel, a glass of good wine, and a bath? Tell me, girls, what shall I think about after we've moved in and I sink into my new claw-foot bathtub, the same one he, too, no doubt enjoyed?