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Secrets In The Marriage Bed
Nalini Singh


EVERY MARRIAGE HAS ITS SECRETSThey were reconciling. That was all Caleb Callaghan could focus on when his estranged wife, Vicki, shared the news of her pregnancy. He was determined that this time their marriage would succeed, no matter what it took. But was Vicki's price too high?She wanted more than his love and support…she demanded honesty between them, starting with his secrets. But there was something in Caleb's past he could not–would not–share. For the truth would only destroy them.









“What Are You Doing Here, Vicki?”


She’d never heard Caleb sound this harsh, this unwelcoming. His tone shot her confidence to pieces. She almost turned to leave, but she was here now. And if she could come this far, she could keep going. Their marriage needed her effort.

“You walked away without letting me explain, Caleb.”

“What’s there to explain?”

So much, she thought desperately. And she couldn’t find the right words. “I didn’t know,” she whispered. “I didn’t know you thought I didn’t want you.” For so long she’d controlled her response to his touch, believing he’d be repulsed.

“Now you do.” But he didn’t reach out to gather her in his arms as he had so many nights in the past. He just kept his distance.


Dear Reader,

Thanks for taking time out of your hectic life to pick up and enjoy a Silhouette Desire novel. We have six outstanding reads for you this month, beginning with the latest in our continuity series, THE ELLIOTTS. Anna DePalo’s Cause for Scandal will thrill you with a story of a quiet twin who takes on her identical sister’s persona and falls for a dynamic hero. Look for her sister to turn the tables next month.

The fabulous Kathie DeNosky wraps up her ILLEGITIMATE HEIRS trilogy with the not-to-be-missed Betrothed for the Baby—a compelling engagement-of-convenience story. We welcome back Mary Lynn Baxter to Silhouette Desire with Totally Texan, a sensual story with a Lone Star hero to drool over. WHAT HAPPENS IN VEGAS…is perhaps better left there unless you’re the heroine of Katherine Garbera’s Her High-Stakes Affair—she’s about to make the biggest romantic wager of all.

Also this month are two stories of complex relationships. Cathleen Galitz’s A Splendid Obsession delves into the romance between an ex-model with a tormented past and the hero who finds her all the inspiration he needs. And Nalini Singh’s Secrets in the Marriage Bed finds a couple on the brink of separation with a reason to fight for their marriage thanks to a surprise pregnancy.

Here’s hoping this month’s selection of Silhouette Desire novels bring you all the enjoyment you crave.

Happy reading!






Melissa Jeglinski

Senior Editor

Silhouette Desire




Secrets in the Marriage Bed

Nalini Singh







www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)




Books by Nalini Singh


Silhouette Desire

Desert Warrior #1529

Awaken to Pleasure #1602

Awaken the Senses #1651

Craving Beauty #1667

Secrets in the Marriage Bed #1716




NALINI SINGH


has always wanted to be a writer. Along the way to her dream, she obtained degrees in both the arts and law (because being a starving writer didn’t appeal). After a short stint as a lawyer, she sold her first book and from that point, there was no going back. Now an escapee from the corporate world, she is looking forward to a lifetime of writing, interspersed with as much travel as possible. Currently residing in Japan, Nalini loves to hear from readers. You can contact her via the following e-mail address: nalini@nalinisingh.com; or by writing to her c/o Silhouette Books, 233 Broadway, Suite 1001, New York, NY, 10279, U.S.A.


This one’s for all my readers—

you guys are the greatest.




Contents


Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Epilogue




One


“I’m pregnant.”

Caleb Callaghan’s heart rocked to a standstill. “What?”

“I said I’m pregnant. Three months along—the doctor just confirmed it.” Shoving her fingers through her shoulder-length blond hair, Vicki sat down in the chair across from his desk.

His entire mind restarted with a kick—this was the chance he’d been waiting for, for two long months. He would not let it slip away. Rising, he moved around the desk to kneel beside her chair. “You’re carrying our child.” Wonder held him in its grip. Within the space of a few seconds, the hell of his life had turned into heaven.

Vicki can’t divorce me if she’s pregnant.

As if she’d heard him, she shook her head. “It doesn’t change anything.” But her voice held the tiniest hint of uncertainty.

He seized the moment. No way was he going to fight fair, not when this was the most important battle of his life. “Of course it does.” He took her fine-boned hand, delighting in once again being able to touch her.

“No.”

“Yes.” In the months since their separation, he’d tried everything he could think of to win his wife back. And failed. But this, this would not allow Vicki to so easily justify a divorce. “How can it not change everything? That’s my baby you’re carrying.”

Her hand tensed in his. “Don’t bully me, Caleb.”

Warned by her tone, he rapidly recalculated his approach. Though he had no intention of letting her shut him out any longer, he knew that if he pushed too hard, he might lose her. But his Victoria had always had a soft heart. “I have a right to experience this with you. This is my first baby, too. Maybe my last.”

Emotions he had no hope of understanding flickered across her face at the speed of light. “You want to move back in,” she said, referring to their restored villa above St. Marys Bay, not far from Auckland’s city center.

“I am moving back in.” That was non-negotiable. “I’m not letting you divorce me while our child is in your womb.” That gave him six months in which to convince her that their marriage was worth saving, that five years of commitment shouldn’t be thrown away so quickly.

She’d asked him for space when they’d separated and he’d given her that as far as he was able—limiting himself to a phone call a day and a couple of visits a week to ensure that she was okay. But that was all ending as of this moment. He wanted his wife back. “This baby is a gift, Vicki—our chance to make it. Don’t throw that away.”

Her eyes seemed to soften.

Standing, he tugged her up and into his embrace, her slender body a perfect fit against his larger frame. “I’ll get my stuff delivered from the hotel this afternoon.” He hated the damn place because it wasn’t home, would never be home. “We’ll be all right.” He’d ensure it. No matter what, he wasn’t going to lose her.

She was his everything.

Vicki let Caleb hold her and knew she was making a terrible mistake. But God, she’d missed being in her husband’s arms. For two months she’d missed him every single day. Each time he’d invited her to lunch, each time he’d dropped by for coffee, she’d known she should back away but instead had always agreed. Now that dangerous pattern threatened to continue. “You don’t need to be at home to share this with me.”

He loosened his hold enough that she could look up into those hazel eyes, shades lighter than his dark brown hair. “Hell yes, I do. You want to raise our kid like you were raised? Barely knowing his—or her—father?”

She sucked in a breath. “You know exactly where to aim, don’t you?” If there was one thing she didn’t want, it was for their child to grow up feeling unloved by either parent.

Letting her go, he put his hands on his hips under his suit jacket. “I’m not going to sugarcoat the truth—if you insist on this separation, it’s going to lead to divorce and eventually to a child shuttled from home to home.”

“You think it’s better for our baby to grow up in the middle of a battlefield?” She would not bring an innocent soul into the wreckage that was their marriage right now.

“Of course not.” His voice rose. “But, Vicki, you can’t have it both ways. Either you let me in and we start working on things, or you accept the alternative.”

“This is moving too fast—I need time.”

“You’ve had two months.” His jaw was set. “More than enough time.”

It was nowhere near enough, she thought. They’d seen each other several times a week during the separation but had yet to talk, really talk. “Caleb, look at it from my point of view. I just found out I’m pregnant. Having you back on top of that is going to be too much to cope with.”

“And the longer you keep me away, the less time we’ll have to fix things before the baby arrives,” he responded. “I’m not backing down on this, so you might as well say yes.”

If she hadn’t already made her decision before walking into this firm that he’d built with sheer determination, his statement might have rubbed her raw. But though so much of him was a mystery to her, this she’d predicted. From the second she’d discovered her pregnancy—though she’d had every intention of trying to convince him otherwise—she’d known that Caleb would refuse to keep his distance.

With that in mind, she’d thought long and hard about the conditions under which she’d allow him to move back into the house. “All right.” Even as she said those words, she was regretting them—give Caleb an inch and he’d take a mile. But this was no longer just about the two of them.

“That’s the right decision, honey,” he said. “You’ll see. We’ll be okay.”

Frowning at his tone, she started to point out that things were going to be a little different this time around. “Look, you can move in, but—”

“Sh.” He smiled and put his hand on her abdomen, startling her with the gesture. It made her pregnancy feel real in a way that even the doctor’s announcement hadn’t. “Don’t want the kid to hear us arguing, do you?”

Her stomach twisted. Already, it was starting—she spoke and he didn’t listen. “Caleb, I want to tell you—”

“Later.” He raised his hand to push her hair off her face. “We have all the time in the world.”



All his things were in the guest bedroom.

“What the hell is this?” Caleb turned to find his wife standing in the bedroom doorway, arms folded and eyes narrowed. No trace remained of the woman who’d let him hold her only a few hours ago.

Straightening her spine, she met his challenge head-on. “This is you not listening—you steamrolling over my objections to your moving back in just as you steamroll over everything.” There was steel in that soft voice he was used to hearing murmur in agreement.

“Later, you said. Well, this is ‘later.’ You can stay in the house but don’t expect to move back into my life like nothing ever happened. As far as I’m concerned, we’re still separated.”

He froze, shock acting like a narcotic in his blood. In the five years they’d been married, Vicki had never spoken to him like that. “Sweetheart—”

“No. No, Caleb. I’m not letting you push me into something I’m not ready for.”

“This isn’t giving us a chance,” he argued. “We can hardly work on our problems if I’m banished to this room with you holding the threat of divorce over my head.” Throwing his suit jacket on the bed, he began to tear off his tie, his eyes on Vicki.

“Neither is your way.” Her cheeks flushed with temper. “You want everything to go back to what it was—as if you haven’t been living in a hotel for the past two months…I was miserable in our marriage. Is that the wife you want back?”

Her words hurt. “You never said anything and then one day, you tell me you want a divorce. How the hell was I supposed to know you weren’t happy? I’m not a mind reader.” Giving up on the blasted tie, he shoved a hand through his hair.

Vicki clenched her fists, creamy skin taut over delicate bones. “No,” she said. “You’re not. But you wouldn’t have to be if you occasionally took the time to listen to me instead of insisting on your way or no way.”

Caleb was getting good and mad. “You never wanted to make any decisions so I made them.” Since the day he’d married her, he’d done his best to take care of her, protect her, and this was his thanks?

“Did you ever stop to think I might want more from life than to call you lord and master? People grow and change, Caleb. Didn’t you ever consider that I might have?”

Her sharp question brought his growing temper to a screeching halt, because the truth was, in his mind Vicki had remained the poised but still young bride of nineteen he’d carried into his home five years ago. Given the gap in their ages and life experiences, his taking charge of their marriage had been inevitable.

That wasn’t to say she’d been lacking her own strengths. In fact, she’d been unnaturally mature for her age, completely willing and able to take over her role as the wife of an ambitious young litigator determined to become better than the best.

He wouldn’t have been drawn to her if he hadn’t glimpsed the resilient will behind her shy smiles. But while he’d already walked a hard road by the age of twenty-nine, she’d been untested by the world, cocooned in an environment where everyone behaved according to accepted rules. Used to making decisions, it hadn’t occurred to him to act any other way with his wife.

For the first time in a long while, he looked at her without being blinded by memories of the girl she’d been. She was still slender, still beautiful in that graceful way with her blue eyes and that silky hair he loved to have brush over his skin. But her eyes no longer said what they had in the past.

When they’d wed, she’d looked to him for everything. Now…now there was distance in those blue depths, a world of secrets he was shut out of. To his shock, he found he had no idea who she was behind her elegant shell.

“No, I guess I didn’t.” He’d built his life around his self-confidence, trusting his instincts when there’d been nothing and no one else to trust. To admit he’d been wrong about something this important was a blow.

Vicki’s lips parted, her eyes going wide.

“But don’t blame me for everything,” he continued. They’d both been in that broken marriage and if they were going to survive the rebuilding, they had to be honest. “You know what I’m like. If you’d said something, I would have tried to fix it. I don’t like to see you hurting.”

Which was why he’d never berated her for the one thing she couldn’t give him—her passion, her desire. That absence in their marriage had stung like hell, and still did, but he was incapable of harming her, even to assuage his own pain. From the moment he’d met her, all he’d wanted to do was make her happy…make her smile.

Shoulders taut beneath the white linen of her simple shift dress, she shook her head. “That’s the point, Caleb. I don’t want you to fix things for me. I need…”

“What, Vicki? Tell me what you need.” It was something he’d never asked. The realization stunned him, made him question exactly how good a job he’d done of loving her.

Even in bed, he’d taken the lead, confident in his ability to ensure her physical pleasure though he couldn’t make her want him with the fury that he wanted her. But what if she’d needed something else, something he hadn’t known how to give? What if that was the reason she’d never responded to him with the intensity he needed from her?

Her whole face softened. “I just need you to see and love me, not the idea of the perfect wife you have in your head, or the woman Grandmother tried to mold me into. Just me. Just Victoria.”

It felt as if she’d struck him. “I never tried to change you.”

“No, Caleb. You never even saw me at all.” And that had hurt more than anything. Because no matter what she said and did, she loved Caleb Callaghan with every breath in her body. Loved his laugh, his intelligence, his stubbornness and even his temper.

But it wasn’t enough. Love like that could slowly destroy a person from the inside out if it wasn’t returned. And despite what Caleb believed, she knew it wasn’t. To her husband she was as fragile as an exotic bloom, someone who always had to be protected, even if that meant she had to be shielded from the full power of his own feelings.

Like now. His fists were clenched, his jaw taut but he kept himself under control. “If I didn’t see you, then who the hell did I spend five years with? A ghost?”

The sarcastic comment fell too close to the mark. “Maybe you did.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

How did she tell him something she’d barely started to understand herself? “Who was I in that marriage, Caleb?”

“My wife.” His hazel eyes were clouded with a kind of pain she’d never before seen. “Wasn’t that enough?”

“Caleb Callaghan’s wife,” she said, swallowing the knot of emotion in her throat. “But was I really even that?”

He scowled. “What kind of question is that? Of course you were my wife. You still are. And if you’d get over this separate-bedrooms crap, we could start working on making things right.”

If I’m your wife, she wanted to scream, then why did you do that with Miranda? But that wasn’t something she was strong enough to face yet—four months of distance from the event hadn’t even formed a scab on the wound. “This is not crap, Caleb. This is real, so start paying attention—for once in your life, pay attention to your marriage!”

Swiveling on her heel, she walked out of the room. From behind her came the harsh sounds of Caleb swearing and throwing something at the wall, but he didn’t follow her. Relieved, she entered her own room, knowing she was close to an emotional meltdown. It was one thing to coach herself on how to handle Caleb when it was only hypothetical, and quite another to be faced with the full force of his personality.

She’d spent her marriage unable to say what needed to be said because she’d been too weak to stand up to the force of nature that was Caleb Callaghan. Having him home scared her—what if she crumpled again, losing everything she’d gained in the months they’d been apart, months in which she’d made herself take a critical look at her life?

What she’d seen hadn’t been pretty. But at least she was facing her mistakes now, facing the mess of their marriage. Getting Caleb to do the same would be a major battle, but she’d made a beginning two months ago when she’d gambled everything on a throw of the dice and asked him for a divorce.

It had been a move born of desperation and staked on Caleb’s stubborn refusal to admit defeat in any arena. She’d wanted to shake him out of his complacency, to make him see that the life they’d been living wasn’t a life at all, merely an existence. Despite her hurt over what he’d done with Miranda during that business trip to Wellington, she hadn’t wanted to give up on the dream that had first brought them together.

But not even for that dream had she been willing to continue hiding behind the perfect facade of their fractured marriage. So she’d thrown the dice. And waited for Caleb to pick them up.

He hadn’t let her down. Though he’d moved out, he’d made sure he had contact with her almost every day. Now, the unexpected gift of their baby had given them more time, time enough for Caleb to get to know her, to begin to understand the woman she’d always been beneath the brittle shell of breeding and culture.

After he understood who she was, he’d have to decide whether or not he wanted to remain married to her, whether or not he wanted to fight to fix a marriage she wasn’t sure could be fixed. Vicki had no intention of ever again donning the mask of a fashion-conscious socialite wife. The question was, what if that was exactly the kind of woman Caleb wanted?

A woman who’d go her own way and not demand anything from him but money and a place in society; a woman who’d turn the other cheek when infidelity raised its ugly head; a woman who’d never dream of destroying her upper-class lifestyle by divorcing her husband because he didn’t love her.




Two


Caleb was in a foul mood. He’d fully expected to spend the night with his wife, but instead had tossed and turned in the guest bedroom while Vicki lay feet away. By the time the shrill ring of the alarm woke him, all of his nerves had been rubbed raw.

He didn’t understand why Vicki was doing this to them—she’d never acted so unreasonably before. How could she expect them to pretend to be separated when they were both living in the same house and she was about to have his baby, for God’s sake? As far as he was concerned, separate beds were not part of the marriage deal. And he’d missed her, damn it. Hadn’t she missed him even a bit?

After a quick shower, he pulled on his suit jacket and walked into the kitchen, expecting a cold welcome from the woman he’d spent the night dreaming about. Vicki stood at the counter pouring coffee into his cup. His mood elevated. “I half expected you to tell me to fend for myself.” That was what she’d done in the last weeks before their separation.

She rolled her eyes. “If I didn’t feed you, you’d live on takeout.”

He slid onto a stool on the other side of the counter, luxuriating in the feel of being home again. In spite of the hours he’d worked as a rising young lawyer, he’d restored this villa with his own hands. It had been his escape from the combative world in which he spent much of his life.

When he’d married Vicki, the villa had only been partially restored and he’d expected her to balk at the work remaining, but she’d lit up at the prospect. She’d done a lot of the finishing work herself—he’d often come home to a wife with paint-stained skin and scraped knuckles.

Almost a year later, they’d had a bright, airy home stamped with their personalities. Some of the happiest days of their marriage had been spent covered in paint and sawdust, with only each other’s voices for company.

“Do vending-machine snacks count as proper food?” he asked, trying to tease his way back into their normal routine. The separation had been hell—he had no intention of returning to that empty existence, no matter what he had to do to convince Vicki.

She gave him an arch look and broke a couple of eggs into a bowl. “I hope you’re joking.”

Caleb knew how to cook. Forced by circumstance, he’d learned to do so as a young child, feeding both himself and his younger sister when his parents became too caught up in themselves. But from the first day of their marriage, Vicki had taken over the kitchen and he’d let her. It had always been one of his secret pleasures that his wife cared enough about him to ensure he ate properly. No one else had ever bothered.

Which was why it had hurt so much when she’d stopped.

Taking the coffee, along with the plate of scrambled eggs and bacon she passed over, he tried out a smile. “Aren’t you joining me?” Breakfast was one of the few meals they’d managed to share regularly. He wondered what she’d do if she knew that he’d skipped breakfast while living at the hotel, unable to bear her absence. Not that he had any intention of telling her.

She made a face. “I think I’ll wait an hour or so.”

“You okay, sweetheart?”

Her lips curved into a smile that sucker punched him with its beauty. “Just a tiny bit of morning sickness that’s actually hitting in the morning, for once.”

“Doesn’t it always?” He was fascinated by the life growing inside of her, hoped she wouldn’t shut him out of the experience the way she’d shut him out of her bed.

She shook her head. “No. It comes and goes on its own schedule. But I’m lucky—I haven’t really had it bad at all. Eat or you’ll be late.”

Obeying, he watched her move around the kitchen dressed in jeans and a sea-green cardigan that looked so touchable, he wondered if she’d worn it to torment him. His hands itched to mold themselves over her slender frame. Her three-month-old pregnancy wasn’t yet visible and she looked much as she’d done when they’d married, but as he’d learned last night, things had changed.

“Toast.” She plucked two pieces out of the toaster, buttered them and handed them over.

As he took them, his gaze fell on a pale pink envelope sitting on the far end of the counter next to the fruit bowl. “What’s that?”

“A card from Mother.”

He eyed her carefully. “What does it say?”

“Only that she might be visiting Auckland in a week or two to catch up with me. Eat.” She waved a hand at him and walked over to put the envelope in the back pocket of her jeans.

Caleb wondered if she really felt as carefree as she was making out. Danica Wentworth’s infrequent interruptions of Vicki’s life tended to leave his wife distraught. He’d tried to broach the subject with her more than once, but she’d backed away with alacrity that spoke of such deep pain, he’d never pursued it. In truth, part of him worried that if he pushed her on this point, she might push back, and there were things about his childhood he wanted no one to know.

But that same childhood had also given him the tools to understand her wariness. What child would want to remember the woman who’d abandoned her to pursue a lover? Though that man had gone on to marry another, Danica remained in a relationship with him to this day—she’d never left him like she’d left her four-year-old daughter. Worse, she had entrusted Vicki to her ex-husband’s mother, Ada, a woman about as maternal as a gutter snake.

Vicki shot him a curious look when he continued to stare at her. “What?”

“Nothing.” Nothing that he could put into words.

He ached to walk over and wrap her in his arms, to show her what he felt. It seemed as though he’d spent eternity aching to hold his wife. But always he stopped, knowing that she wouldn’t welcome such advances. That moment in his office yesterday had been an aberration. She’d been upset and vulnerable and he’d acted on instinct.

“Are you going to court today?” She eyed his black suit and to his surprise, came over to fix the collar of his shirt. The woman-scent of her went straight to his heart.

He nodded, trying not to look as stunned as he felt. Vicki never touched him unless he initiated contact. “The Dixon-McDonald case.”

Her eyes met his and she dropped her hands, as if startled by her own actions. “Two companies fighting it out over a patent, right?” A soft blush shading her cheeks, she walked around the counter and picked up the carafe to refill his coffee. “Think you guys will win?”

He was further surprised by her knowledge of the case. “Callaghan & Associates always win.” He grinned despite feeling strangely off balance. Vicki was…different.

Though she refused to meet his gaze, she laughed. “What’s the firm doing involved in a patent case? I thought that was pretty specialized.”

God, he’d missed her laugh. It made him realize how long it had been since he’d heard it—months before his move to the hotel. “When did you start keeping track of my files?” His tone was conversational but in his gut, guilt churned. Why hadn’t he noticed the extent of her unhappiness before now? Even when she’d rocked their world by asking him for a divorce, he hadn’t woken up to that fact. Why the hell not? Had he been so wrapped up in work he’d forgotten the woman he’d promised to love, honor and cherish?

Finally, she raised her head. “Since always.”

“But you’ve never talked to me about any of them before.” Never talked about the firm he’d built with blood, sweat and tears, though it had been an integral part of their life. “Even when you held dinner parties for my clients, you asked barely enough to ensure things ran smoothly.”

“I…” She paused and then took a deep breath. “I guess I didn’t want to sound stupid. It’s not like I have legal or corporate training. And you never seemed to want to discuss your work when you came home. I thought maybe it had something to do with confidentiality.”

His head spun at the uncertainty in her tone. “You couldn’t sound stupid if you tried. Attorney-client privilege doesn’t stop us discussing things in general terms like we just did. I never talked about work because I thought you weren’t interested.” And why exactly had he thought that?

The answer remained frustratingly out of reach, but he understood enough to fix this mistake. “The reason we got involved is that the client followed Marsha Henrikkson—” he named one of his newer associates “—when she switched to our firm. She’s a qualified patent attorney.”

Vicki beamed at him.

“What?” he asked, rocked by his own pleasure at having made his wife smile. Sunlight shimmered off the wooden counter and suddenly, bittersweet shards of memory cut into him. He remembered sanding this counter and looking up to find Vicki smiling at him from the other side. Back then he’d been full of hope for their future, still cocky enough to laughingly grab his wife and tumble her to the floor.

“Nothing.” Continuing to smile, she asked, “Do you want more toast?”

Memory and reality converged in her happiness. “No, this will hold me.” He took a last sip of coffee and stood, wishing he didn’t have an early appointment. The two of them hadn’t been this easy with each other for far too long. “I’ll call if I’m going to be late.”

“Fine.”

He caught the edge in her tone. “What does that mean?” If blunt questions were what it would take for him to get to know this intriguing woman who’d shown him more fire and passion in one day than she had during the rest of their marriage, he’d ask a thousand of them.

Her jaw firmed. “You’re always late, Caleb. I can’t remember the last time we had dinner together when it wasn’t a work function.”

He’d never thought she cared one way or the other if he was around. After all, she could hardly bear it when he reached for her and if he was with her, he wanted to touch her. Her dislike of intimacy with him had half destroyed him, but she was still the only woman he wanted as his wife. “You want me home for dinner?”

“Of course I want you home for dinner!” Frown lines marred her forehead. “You’re my husband.”

The decision was easy. “I’ll be home.”

Another unexpected smile lit up her features, erasing the frown. “Really?”

“Promise.” He wanted nothing more than to kiss her and taste the sunshine sparkling on her lips.

She stepped closer. “I’ll wait for you.”

He wished she’d touch him, hug him, anything. But Vicki had never taken that sort of action and eventually, he’d learned to withhold his own inherently physical nature, learned not to ask for things she could never give him.

Even if it shredded his soul.



Vicki watched Caleb get into his dark sedan and drive away. No matter how well she thought she knew him, he could always surprise her. The way he’d agreed to come home early without any hesitation had been a shock, given his dedication to his work.

She hated coming second to the law firm that was his life, hated it with a vengeance that could have turned her bitter if she hadn’t decided to do something about it. Caleb’s easy acquiescence to her request gave her hope that the battle might not be as impossible as it had always seemed. Maybe he was listening to her at long last.

But, she thought suddenly, was she listening to him? There had been something in his eyes as he’d looked at her in the kitchen—as if he’d wanted to say something, do something, but was restraining himself. She got that impression a lot around Caleb. Restraint. Emotions held captive.

He hadn’t started out that way. In the beginning, she’d almost drowned in the power of Caleb, a little frightened at the strength of his focus on her but delighting in it all the same. Then something had changed between them…been damaged.

If she’d walked over to fix his collar when they’d first married, no matter how angry they were with each other, he would have pulled her into his lap and kissed her until she begged for mercy. She’d touched him deliberately this morning as a test to see how much remained of that early passion. The answer had devastated her.

What had happened to the fire that had once raged between them? Had she destroyed it? She didn’t know what to think, experience warring with childhood lessons about acceptable behavior and the need to control her emotions. All she knew was that she’d die if she was never again as important to Caleb as she’d been at the start.

But why then did she get the impression that Caleb was constantly fighting to rein in his nature? Why could she almost feel the dark intensity of the emotions he kept locked up? And why could she never ask him what it was that he wanted to say but didn’t?

He was right. He hadn’t been the only one who’d made mistakes in their marriage.




Three


Caleb arrived home that evening to find Vicki in the living room staring at the phone. Dressed in a sleeveless black dress that faithfully hugged every curve, she looked tempting enough to eat. His gut clenched at the thought that she’d donned a sexy dress for dinner. What the hell was that supposed to mean?

“Anything the matter?” Dropping his briefcase on the couch, he stripped off his overcoat and suit jacket. Autumn was turning into winter and the breeze coming off the bay was increasingly crisp. But it was warm inside the house, the sunlight trapped by both the windows and the skylights.

“Your secretary just called from her apartment. She said she forgot to tell you she’d managed to reschedule with Mr. Johnson. The meeting is now at eight tomorrow morning.”

That was the appointment Caleb had cancelled in order to be home for dinner. “Thanks for taking the message. My mobile’s dead—I forgot to charge it.” Tugging off his tie, he dropped it on the sofa before undoing the top two buttons of his shirt and walking over to join her. “Why the look?” The urge to run his hands over the delicate softness of her bare arms was a physical ache.

“It wasn’t Miranda,” she blurted out, troubled eyes looking to him for explanation.

If there was one thing he didn’t want to discuss, it was his former secretary. “No. She’s been gone awhile.” Giving in to temptation, he curved one hand over the creamy skin of her shoulder. She shivered but didn’t move away. Then again, she never did. At least not until the end.

Victoria wanted to ask why Miranda had left but the courage that had pushed her this far deserted her in the face of the sickening thought that bloomed in her mind without warning. What if Miranda was no longer Caleb’s secretary because she was something else? Such arrangements weren’t unheard of in the circles in which she’d grown up—her own mother was a perfect example. And Caleb had been living away from her for two months. Maybe he’d gotten tired of waiting.

“Vicki?”

The reply she wanted to make kept slipping out of the turmoil in her mind. She stared at the floor in a desperate attempt to find her sense of balance but suddenly her world was spinning. “I need to sit…” And then it was too much effort to speak.

She heard him swear. Before she could collapse, he scooped her up in those powerful arms and she felt herself being carried to the sofa. He sat down with her held close. “Vicki? Talk to me. Come on, sweetheart.”

She took several deep breaths, letting herself be comforted by the only man who’d ever given her this tenderness. “I’m okay. Just give me a moment.”

“Are you sick? Is something wrong with the baby?” he demanded.

“No, no. I’m fine. We’re both fine.” Realizing that strands of hair were escaping her carefully constructed coil, she lifted her hand to re-anchor the pins. Caleb’s eyes drifted up.

And she remembered.

Instead of fixing the elegant do, she pulled out the pins and let the soft mass fall around her shoulders. Caleb had always loved it when she wore her hair loose, though he’d never once said so out loud. Some things a wife simply knew.

“If you’re both okay, why did you faint?”

Because I just realized that you might have a mistress. Held in fear’s tight grip, she didn’t speak the words. She may have become stronger in recent months, but she wasn’t strong enough to hear his response to that statement. Not yet. As long as she didn’t say it, Caleb couldn’t lie to her, couldn’t fracture the fragility of their new start.

“I think I overdid it making dinner,” she said, with a small shrug. “I should’ve sat down a bit more during the day.” A lie of omission hidden in truth.

“Are you sure that’s all?” His hand drifted to her nape, a soft massage that was all the more seductive because of his overwhelming physicality. As usual, his touch made her want to behave in ways that were utterly unladylike and vaguely terrifying.

Did he do this for Miranda? Stop it! she told herself the second the thought entered her mind. She wouldn’t let her own fears and suspicions sabotage the decision she’d made with her eyes wide open.

In their time apart, despite all her hurt and anger, she’d accepted that she loved Caleb in a way that was so deep, it was a once-in-a-lifetime gift. Though that realization had spurred her to fight for their marriage, it wouldn’t stop her from walking away if they failed. And if she kept letting the past interfere, they would surely fail. For the sake of their child, she had to look beyond Caleb’s relationship with Miranda.

“Vicki? Come back to me, honey. Is everything really okay?”

She started to nod but her mouth shaped the word “no.” And she knew that although there was one wound she might never be ready to talk about, it was time to lay open another. “I spent a lot of time thinking about us today.”

Those hazel eyes seemed to harden but he didn’t stop his massage. “What’s to think about? We’re married and you’re carrying our child.”

“No, Caleb. Don’t do this again. Listen to me.”

“Talk.”

“You were angry about the separate beds last night.” But not angry enough to go elsewhere, she told herself, trying to soothe the agony in her heart.

“I want my wife in my bed. What’s wrong with that?”

“But that bed wasn’t the happiest of places for us, was it? I wasn’t ever…woman enough for you. I could never satisfy you.” It was like ripping out pieces of her soul and handing them over to him, but this had to be done.

“Jesus, Vicki.”

“You know I’m right, Caleb.” No matter how humiliating it was for her to admit…to accept, her failure in bed had helped drive him into another woman’s arms. If Vicki wanted Caleb back, she had to face up to that.

Caleb didn’t know what to do. He was used to taking charge but, at that moment, he was lost. Stroking her cheek, he shook his head. “Don’t look so sad, sweetheart.” Many times in the last few years of their marriage, he’d glimpsed that haunting sadness in her expression.

He’d felt helpless that he couldn’t bring the light he’d caught tantalizing glimpses of before they’d married back into her eyes. He’d assumed that once she was out from under her grandmother’s shadow, the light would flare bright, but it had faded until he’d been terrified he’d done something to kill it. “It’s nothing that we can’t fix.”

“Do you really think so?”

“Yes, Vicki. Yes. But we can’t do it if you won’t let me into your bed.” When she didn’t respond, he tried another approach. “We’re going in with a new mind-set—it changes everything.”

“Yes, it has to, doesn’t it?” Nodding in agreement, she wrapped her arms around his neck and lay her head against his shoulder. “Oh, Caleb. I missed having you beside me.”

He’d loved her long enough to understand the message in the liquid softness of her body. Please, don’t let me be deceiving myself. This was as close as Vicki ever came to making the first move. Sure that he was reading her right, he stood and, with her in his arms, headed for the bedroom. When she held on tighter, the knot in his chest eased.

Maybe it would be different now that they’d finally brought the secret pain of their marriage out into the open. Maybe Vicki would respond to him in the way he’d always wanted her to respond. Maybe.

She didn’t say a word as he carried her into the master bedroom. When he set her on her feet, they just looked at each other for several long seconds, two starving people in front of a banquet. The same moment that he began to reach for her, Vicki’s lashes fluttered shut and her body swayed toward his.

Cupping her face, he kissed her. She always responded to this, kissing him back with explosive passion. He cherished the kisses she gave him during lovemaking because they were the only signs that she wanted him.

So he kissed her. For a long, long time. Kissed…and hoped. When she whimpered and made a small restless movement, he slid his hands to the back of her dress and pulled down the zipper. Trailing his fingers up her spine, he became fascinated by the delicacy of her skin but resisted the urge to linger. Part of him was afraid this moment would be lost if he didn’t hurry. Promising himself he could return to savor her, he raised his hands to the shoulders of the dress and slid them down her arms. She let go of him only for the instant it took to remove the dress from her upper body.

The sound of cloth on skin sizzled over him as the dress fell to puddle around her bare feet. The feel of her almost naked body was an erotic shock. Exquisitely shaped, her breasts were small, taut, letting her eschew a bra when she chose…like tonight. He loved when she did that. It drove him half crazy.

Still kissing her, he moved his hands down her sides, stopping to stroke his thumbs over her nipples. She gasped into the kiss but didn’t react in any other way. Her hands didn’t move from around his neck; her body didn’t press closer to his. Caleb didn’t give up. She’d raised the topic, welcomed his embrace. What clearer indication of desire did he need?

He shed his shirt without breaking the kiss, then hesitantly pressed their bodies together. Her breasts rubbed against his chest, a sweet kind of torture. There was no rejection in her body, but neither could he read true welcome, passionate need. Only her mouth gave him hope.

Breaking the kiss at last, he lifted her and put her on the bed. Wide, the design a simple wooden frame, they’d picked it out in the weeks before their marriage, never guessing that it would become the center of one of the major issues in their relationship.

His hands trembled as he tugged her panties down her thighs, two months of deprivation making him ravenous. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen and all he wanted to do was lavish his attention on every part of her, to take his time and adore her inch by precious inch. But such slow, luxurious loving required more than cooperation. Nothing less than acceptance on the deepest, most intimate level would do. And even tonight, Vicki held him at a distance, her desire locked up tight.

For five years he’d made love to her as little as possible, needing her more than he needed to breathe but unwilling to hurt her with his demands. Her kisses were always pure fire, her body slick and ready whenever he entered her, but in between, she never responded, no matter how hard he tried.

It didn’t matter that he could always bring her to orgasm. What mattered was that she fought every pleasure he tried to give her. What mattered was that she was never so overcome by desire that she became ravenous for him. What mattered was that even in this most personal of situations, his wife refused to drop her shield of cool elegance.

Hoping against hope, he kicked off his shoes and lowered himself on top of her, bracing himself on his arms. As his lips claimed hers, he ran one hand down her body to cup her buttock, and touched her hand.

It was clenched into a fist.




Four


A sound of raw pain ripped out from somewhere deep inside him as he rolled away. “Shit.” He wasn’t going to do this if she was merely enduring the experience. At least before the separation, she’d held on to him as if she’d never let go, allowing him to fool himself into thinking that she wanted him. But this…no more. Something in him had given way, broken. After all this time, he’d hit his own limits.

He heard her move, thought he heard muffled sobs as she got under the sheets. The knife inside him twisted and twisted until he wondered if he was bleeding. Shoving his hands through his hair, he laid on his back and stared at the ceiling, fighting the emotions threatening to take control. He wasn’t sure he could cope with that much pain. After several minutes, he shifted to look at her. She was lying on her side, giving him her back.

He thought about the number of times she’d turned away from him in bed. The broken part of him was suddenly furious. “Why did you marry me if you can’t stand my touch?” That fact had tormented him for years. At first he’d hoped that nothing more than shyness kept her from touching him, but he had slowly realized that it was something far worse.

His wife didn’t want him.

Devastated, he’d tried to limit his earthy sexuality, tried not to burden her with his need. And yet he hadn’t been able to stop himself from reaching for her in the darkness, when his shields were at their lowest and he could no longer fight the hunger. Today she’d ripped those shields completely from him, taunting him with a false hope that things would be different. Why had she done that?

Vicki’s back stiffened and she faced him, something like shock in her eyes. “I love the way you touch me.”

He let out a harsh bark of laughter. “Yeah, right. That’s why when we have sex, you can’t wait for me to finish so you can roll away and pretend you didn’t let me put my hands on you.”

Unable to make her see what she was doing to him, he’d focused the frustrated power of his emotions on his work. Combined with his inherent need to succeed, to prove himself, he’d been unstoppable. In five years he’d achieved more with the firm than many men did in a lifetime. No one knew that his phenomenal success had come at the cost of denying the passion at the core of him.

Vicki shook his shoulder, forcing him to look at her. Her eyes were cloudy with distress. “No, Caleb! That’s not true. I never—I adore making love with you.”

She’d started this but if she wasn’t prepared to admit to the depth of their problems, he could see no way out. He sat up. “I’m going for a drive.” His voice was ragged, his arousal fading under the accumulated weight of years of rejection. Grabbing his shirt, he shoved his arms into the sleeves and started to walk out.

“Caleb, wait!”

Pretending he hadn’t heard, he continued walking away. He couldn’t bear to let her see him like this, vulnerable, wounded and so hurt he could barely find his way out of the room.



Victoria gave up trying to fall asleep sometime around two in the morning. Though Caleb had long since returned, they never did have that dinner she’d dressed up for with such high hopes. Like so many other meals in the past, it had fallen by the wayside. Except this time it wasn’t Caleb’s work at fault but her own cowardice.

Lying on her back, she stared at the darkness of the ceiling through tear-filled eyes and thought about the mess she’d made of her life. It was no use continuing to blame Caleb for the field of broken dreams that had become their marriage, no matter how easy that was. She was as much, if not more, to blame. If only she’d stood up to him at the start and said what was in her heart, he would have never begun to believe that she didn’t want him.

How had he survived?

“Because he’s strong,” she whispered to the darkness. Strong and used to fighting for everything he’d ever gotten from life. But he’d been unable to fight her inhibitions, unable to fight years of Grandmother Ada’s pitiless conditioning.

Why hadn’t he ever told her what she was doing to him? And why hadn’t she ever asked him what he needed, what he wanted in bed? Accustomed to Caleb taking charge, she’d always allowed him to focus on pleasing her. Especially in bed. When had she ever tried to please him?

Never.

Her heart clenched. Her inexperience was no excuse, not when she’d soon realized that Caleb needed something from her that she didn’t know how to give. Instead of asking him, she’d buried her head in the sand and pretended everything was okay, using the coping tactic that had allowed her to survive after her mother had abandoned her on Ada’s doorstep. However, mere survival was no longer enough. She wanted to live.

Pushing aside the blanket, she got up and padded down the wide hallway to the kitchen. The romantic glow of the moonlight streaming through the windows seemed to mock her as she pulled a carton of milk from the fridge. Pouring some into a glass, she replaced the carton and put her cold fingers to her eyelids.

A creaking noise came from the hallway and a second later, Caleb entered the kitchen wearing only a pair of black boxer shorts. “What are you doing up?” His voice was rough, his hair mussed.

“I couldn’t sleep.” She raised her glass in explanation. “Do you want some?” Caleb stood only a few feet from her and yet miles away. She didn’t know if she had the courage to cross the divide.

He merely raised an eyebrow at the offer.

Finishing her drink, she put the glass in the sink and rubbed her hands on the thighs of her flannel pj’s. “Did I wake you?” Was she going to pretend that he hadn’t left her naked and alone in bed? Continue living her life in a fantasy world? Or was she finally going to say what needed to be said?

“No.”

God, he was so beautiful to her and she was so afraid to touch him. Swallowing, she crossed the cool tiles until she was less than an arm’s length away. “I guess you have a busy day tomorrow. You should try to sleep.” Why couldn’t she say what she so desperately wanted to say?

She tried to force the truth out, fighting years of being told that passion and desire were dangerous and destructive. Words bubbled up in her throat but no matter how hard she pushed, fear kept her lips from shaping them into sound.

Something like disappointment flickered in Caleb’s eyes but she couldn’t be sure in the semidarkness of the room. He simply moved to let her pass, then fell in step behind her. She heard him enter the guest bedroom a few seconds after she’d shut the door to the master bedroom and slumped against it.

More tears burned at the back of her eyes, mute evidence of her frustration and anger. What was wrong with her? Was she so cowardly that she couldn’t even take the necessary steps toward saving her marriage? Was she going to settle for this half-life, with her husband thinking she couldn’t bear his touch?

So angry with herself that she wanted to scream, she forced herself to remember each moment of the two months she’d spent alone in this house. Every single day she’d come into this bedroom, crawled into this bed and hungered for Caleb. She’d slept on his side of the mattress, worn his old shirts, spent entire nights dreaming of his loving.

Was she willing to go back to that existence? Because she knew without a doubt that her husband wasn’t going to return to her bed unless she convinced him she needed him desperately. She’d hurt him too much.

It was the thought of Caleb in such pain that straightened her defeated posture. Taking a deep breath, she tucked her hair behind her ears and opened the door.

Caleb’s own door was open and she knew why. Even in his anger, he wanted to be able to hear her if she needed him. It was a good sign, she told herself as she walked in. He was lying on his side facing away, but she knew he heard her come in even though he didn’t move. For the first time in their married life, Caleb had turned his back to her.

Fighting the hot rush of fear, she crossed the endless carpet and sat on the other side of the bed. As soon as she touched the mattress she knew she was making a mistake. There was only one way she could reach Caleb—she had to stop protecting herself. She moved to lie beside him, her head nestled in the hollow of his back, one hand on his waist.

“What are you doing here, Vicki?”

She’d never heard him sound that harsh, that unwelcoming. It shot her confidence to pieces but she was here and if she could come this far, she could keep going. “You walked away without letting me explain.”

“What’s there to explain?”

So much, she thought desperately, that she couldn’t find the words for. “I didn’t know,” she whispered. “I didn’t know you thought I didn’t want you. I swear, I didn’t know.” She’d thought she was doing something wrong and had tried to control her own reactions so as not to offend him, not realizing she was taking the worst possible action.

Caleb didn’t reach out to gather her into his arms as he had so many nights in the past. She ached to be held. But it wasn’t easy for a woman who’d spent a lifetime hiding her emotions to lay them out in the open.

“Now you do.”

And the next step was hers.

The thing was, Vicki didn’t know how to take that next step, didn’t know how to fix this broken bridge between them. She’d never confided in him, never once taken the chance of putting her pride, her heart, her deep insecurities on the line.

“You have to help me,” she whispered. If she was going to lose her husband, it wouldn’t be because she’d been too afraid to chance her heart. “I can’t do this without you.”

At last, he turned. But he didn’t hold her, instead propping himself up on his elbow. “We’ve had enough lies between us. Just tell me the truth. Why?”

Why did you marry me if you can’t stand my touch?

The words he’d spoken in anger earlier whispered around the room, a silent third party to this painful conversation.

“I love your touch,” she repeated her own words. But this time when he began to move away, she grabbed his shoulder. “Don’t. Don’t, Caleb.”

It was the break in Vicki’s voice that halted Caleb. He knew she was fighting tears. No matter how much it hurt him to lie beside her knowing she felt nothing for him when he burned for her, he’d do it if it would stop her from crying. He had no defense against her tears, not when he knew exactly what they cost her.

In the early days of their marriage, she’d once confessed that she didn’t cry because as a child, her tears had been the only thing over which she’d had any control. No matter what she’d said or done, her grandmother had never been able to make Vicki break down.

“I’m here,” he said. “Don’t cry, honey.”

“I’m not crying.” Her voice was raw. “I just need to say this. I’ve been trying for so long.”

“What?” Giving in to his own need, he drew her into his arms. She came without hesitation, spooning her back to his front. The familiarity of the gesture was bittersweet. Vicki didn’t mind his embrace. All those late nights when he’d finally slipped into bed, she’d sleepily scooted nearer so he could tuck her close.

“The way I am in bed…it’s not your fault.”

What was he supposed to make of that?

She took a deep, halting breath. “Grandmother…”

The abrupt change of topic threw him. “What about her?”

Caleb didn’t particularly like Ada Wentworth, even though the old woman had introduced him to Vicki and given her smiling blessing to their union. He’d known that Ada had chosen to overlook his lack of breeding only because of his increasing wealth and connections, but it hadn’t mattered. Despite the ten-year gap in their ages, he’d fallen headlong for Vicki.

She put her hand over the arm he had around her waist. “She said—She said that the reason my father left my mother was because my mother was a s-slut. A w-whore who’d spread her legs for any man who asked.”

Caleb bit off a sharp curse. “How old were you?” He knew she’d been sent to live with Ada at four years of age, soon after her parents, Danica and Gregory Wentworth, had divorced.

“I can’t remember the first time, but I grew up with her voice in my head telling me ‘like mother, like daughter.’ I guess I must have been very young when she started. There was never a time when I didn’t know what Grandmother thought of Mother and what she’d think of me if I ever strayed out of line.”

He was rocked by the viciousness of the wounds Vicki had hidden inside herself.

“And she said,” Vicki continued before he could speak, “that unless I was the perfect model of a wife, you’d leave me, too. She told me that men don’t want their wives to be w-whores. If I wanted to keep you, I had better make sure I always acted like a lady, not a slut.”

She was killing him. “Vicki—”

“When I was ten, my father married Claire. She’s so perfect, sometimes I don’t think she’s real. It’s as if she has ice running in her veins. I’ve never seen her show any powerful emotion. Grandmother used to tell me, ‘Look at Claire and now look at Danica. Men sleep with sluts, but they marry women of breeding.’ I believed her.”

Caleb wanted to strangle Ada. “I married you,” he said, trying to cut through her pain. “I never asked you to be anything other than the woman you were.”

“That’s just it, Caleb.” Haunting sadness laced her tone. “You were so proud to be marrying the woman Grandmother had made me into, the woman I was when we met. So proud of the way I talked and acted. I wanted you to love me so I tried hard to continue to be that woman even though she wasn’t really me.

“And all the time, I knew I wasn’t giving you what you needed but I didn’t understand what it was that I was doing wrong. I kept trying harder and harder but no matter what I did, you kept moving further away from me. Then one day I realized that if I tried any harder to be someone I wasn’t, I’d disappear forever.”

Stunned, he put both hands on her shoulders and tugged her onto her back with him braced over her. She tried to avoid his gaze but he put a finger on her jaw and applied gentle pressure until her eyes met his. “You don’t have to act a certain way to prove yourself to me. The only thing I ever wanted was for you to drop your shields and let me in.”

Her eyes widened at his husky words. A hesitant hand rose to touch his cheek and he felt his whiskers scrape her skin. He used to shower and shave before coming to her, wanting to be what he’d thought she needed.

“Really?” Doubt continued to throw shadows over her expression.

Understanding, he stroked the hair off her face. “Don’t you think I could tell what Ada had tried to do to you? What attracted me to you was your spirit, your refusal to be crushed by her. I was so goddamn proud to have you as my wife. You, not the well-bred, elegant doll.”

“And I was proud to have you as my husband.” Vicki’s hand slid to rest on his shoulder. “Proud of what you’d achieved through sheer determination. Did you know I used to brag to the other wives about your successful cases? Sometimes, I’d go sit in the back of the courtroom to watch you work and think, he’s mine.”

Caleb’s whole world changed in that instant. “Vicki,” he whispered. No one had ever been proud of him. His family came to him for money but not one of them had ever said, “Well done, Caleb, well done.” Not one of them had ever come to watch him defend a case. And not one of them had ever been so proud that they’d praised him to others.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m so sorry.”

He shook his head. “I’m as much to blame as you. I pushed and pushed like I always do.” As a child, belligerence had been the only way he’d been able to make his father, Max, “see” him. As often as not, his stubbornness had sparked Max’s temper, but back then Caleb had been desperate enough to value any connection with the man. The experience had scarred him, made him emotionally aggressive when dealing with the people who mattered to him, with Vicki.

“And I let you,” she added, taking a burden that should never have set on her shoulders. “Every time I tried to speak about it, I’d get so nervous and when you began to soothe me and say we could talk about whatever it was later, I’d agree. But later never came.”

Caleb wasn’t going to allow her to let him off the hook so easily. “Honey, I knew you wanted to tell me something…” I just didn’t want to hear it. I thought,” he dropped his head and owned up to his colossal blunder, “that you’d tell me you didn’t want to be in bed with me. So I tried to change your mind each time.” Another assumption, he realized, beginning to see the pattern in his dealings with Vicki.

Her eyes were huge. “What happens next?”

“I want to be married to you, Vicki.” Nothing subtle would work now. “Do you want to be married to me?”

The pause was minuscule. “Yes.” She took a deep breath. “Yes.”

It wasn’t the avowal he’d been looking for. But it was better than her earlier statement that they were still separated. “Then giving up is not an option.” It had never been for him. And despite Vicki’s ambivalence, he didn’t think it had ever been for her, either. If it had, she would have taken his key when she’d kicked him out and refused to see him those times he’d come over or invited her to lunch. But she hadn’t.

“Caleb…” She put a hesitant hand on his upper arm. “Do you want…? We can try again.”

The vulnerability he could see shattered him. He knew that right now, he could ask for anything in bed and she’d try to provide it. But he didn’t want his wife giving in to him because she was laboring under a burden of guilt. He wanted them to bridge this distance in the bright light of day.

“All I want is for you to sleep in my arms.” He dropped a soft kiss on her lips. It was one of the hardest things he’d ever done. Part of him—the part that had been deprived for years—whispered that he should take this chance, that it might never come again, that this emotional woman in his arms would be gone when morning arrived, replaced by the cool, elegant lady he barely dared to touch.

Troubled eyes met his. “Caleb, I can…”

“Hush.” He moved onto his back, pulling her against his chest. “Sleep. This is enough for tonight.” Despite the desperate voices urging him to take what she was trying to offer and not look back, he knew he spoke the truth. His wife was used to keeping her emotions well under control. And yet she’d come to him tonight.

Finally, she’d come to him.




Five


Vicki woke to the sound of Caleb showering. As always, she fantasized about going into the bathroom, stripping off her clothing and joining him in that steamy enclosure. What she’d give to run her hands over his soap-slick skin, to explore his beautiful body as she wished. But as always, she got out of bed and went to put on the coffee instead.

“One day,” she muttered under her breath as she set the coffeemaker. “One day soon.” She’d love to shock Caleb by joining him. He’d never expect that. And he was probably right—she didn’t have the kind of sexual confidence it took to approach a man naked and vulnerable, assured that he’d accept, not reject, her silent invitation.

Getting the bread out of the pantry, she was struck by the appearance of her hands—the oval nails polished a pale nude color, the tasteful wedding band that was her only jewelry. It seemed to her that she was exactly like her hand—well polished, boring and without character. Not a woman who did exciting things like surprise her husband in the shower.

The scent of Caleb’s woodsy aftershave warned her that he’d entered the kitchen. Without thinking about it, she turned and blurted, “Am I boring, Caleb?”

His eyes widened. “You might be a lot of things, honey, but boring isn’t one of them.”

“Tell me one thing I’ve done that’s been out of the ordinary.” She put the bread on the counter and frowned. “One thing I’ve done that you never expected me to do.”

“You asked me for a divorce.” He grabbed a couple of slices of bread and put them in the toaster. “Then you told me to go sleep in the guest bedroom—surprised the hell out of me and not in a good way.”

She breathed in the just-showered scent of him and wanted nothing more than to pull him down by that sedate navy tie and plant a shockingly raw good-morning kiss on his lips. Caleb had always looked good in a suit. “Hmm,” she said, staring at him as he reached up to get mugs from the upper cupboards. “Caleb?”

He put two mugs on the counter. “Yes?”

“Are we going to ignore last night?” She couldn’t bear to pretend anymore. It was as if once she’d ripped open this scar she had to keep pushing at it to see how much it hurt, to check if it had healed any.

He faced her, tall, strong and masculine to the core. When she thought he’d speak, he cupped her face in his hands and kissed her. She melted into him, clutching at his waist to keep herself upright. Usually Caleb let her control their kisses, but today he was kissing the thoughts right out of her head.

When they came up for air, his eyes were filled with a thousand emotions. “What do you think?”

Barely able to breathe, she pointed to the toaster. “Your toast’s ready.”

For some reason, that made him smile. “I made you a piece, too.” He buttered the toast and put it to her lips. “You’re eating for two now, Mrs. Callaghan.”

The unbearably Caleb statement, care wrapped in action, made her smile. And that was how she sent her husband off to work. For the first time in a long while, they laughed as they kissed each other goodbye, looking forward to the night to come.



Once Caleb had left, Vicki went through some catalogues for the university and a nearby technical college. It had come as a rude shock during the separation to realize that without Caleb, she was a woman who did nothing useful, nothing that made her proud. With no client dinners to organize or cocktail parties to attend, no suits to be dry-cleaned, no husband to mess up the pristine house, she’d been slapped with the fact that part of her anger at Caleb came from her own uninspiring existence.

Her husband was a dynamo in the legal world, respected by colleagues and competitors alike. And what was she? A finishing school-educated woman of twenty-four. She kept up with Caleb by reading business journals voraciously so she could discuss things he was interested in. But how long would that sustain them? How long until it became clear to him that she had nothing original to contribute to their lives?




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