Secrets in the Marriage Bed (15 page)

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Authors: Nalini Singh

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BOOK: Secrets in the Marriage Bed
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An hour later, she said goodbye to her mother outside the café and they went their separate ways.

Vicki decided to walk over and browse in a nearby lingerie store, her mind at peace. It was a wonderful change from all those times when Danica’s appearances had left her feeling as if she were four years old again and watching her mother wave goodbye from a limousine as she headed off to a new life.

Vicki’s fingers touched the lacy edge of a moss-green camisole and she paused. It was attractive but definitely an extravagance.

I like seeing you in satin and lace.

The memory of the unexpected words made her decision for her. She picked up the camisole. Pretty and feminine, she knew it would make her feel special.

The way Caleb did.

Standing there with the plastic hanger in one hand, Vicki realized that she loved Caleb more than she’d ever imagined. The feeling was primitive and visceral, demanding everything she had.
This
was why she’d been able to truly forgive her mother, because she knew Danica had never felt anything like it and never would.

Her mother enjoyed life, lived and laughed, but she’d never given her heart and soul to anyone or anything. Not to her child, not to her safely married lover, not to her work. Vicki had fallen helplessly in love with Caleb and as helplessly in love with their unborn child.

She’d tried to find a passion, a dream, in an attempt to fight the knowledge that
Caleb
was her dream. It had been her way of coping with the fact that work was his life. No more, she thought. Just because he couldn’t return her feelings didn’t mean he didn’t deserve to know how she felt.

Perhaps that made her a fool. Then again, perhaps it made her the luckiest woman alive. Smiling through eyes gone watery, she picked up the lace-edged panties that matched the camisole and took them to the counter.

That night, Caleb managed to make it home by eight. Vicki was outside chatting to their neighbor, Bill, and he joined her for a few minutes before they headed in out of the chill air.

“How are things?” she asked.

“There might be a light at the end of the tunnel.” Holding the door open for her, he let her take his briefcase and put it next to a nearby table. “Something smells good.”

“I made pasta. And I ate a ton of it.” She scrunched up her face. “I’m going to be huge by the time she decides it’s time to come out.”

Chuckling, he followed her into the living room. “I guess I’ll have to survive on what’s left over.”

“Don’t worry. I’ve learned my lesson by now. I make twice as much as I used to.”

As they passed the coffee table, he glanced down to see an open photo album. “What were you doing with this?” He remembered it from soon after they’d married, when Ada had presented it to them. It was a professionally collated piece of work that chronicled Vicki’s life from birth to marriage.

“Let me put the pasta on to heat first. Wait here—I’ll be back in a second.”

Taking her at her word, he shed his jacket, loosened his tie and sat with the album in his lap. He knew Vicki didn’t care for it, much preferring the ones she’d started after their wedding. Once, he’d asked her why she didn’t like the pictures of her childhood and she’d answered, “They make me feel abandoned.”

It had taken him a night of leafing through those pages alone to understand. There were very few photos of Vicki with either parent after she turned four. He’d counted perhaps eight in all and three had been studio shots taken to commemorate her father’s remarriage. Eight photos for fifteen years of life. She had a right to feel abandoned.

At least Max and Carmen hadn’t thrown him aside until he was old enough to deal with it. And they’d never taunted him with false hope. He couldn’t imagine what it must have done to a four-year-old to be left behind by parents who’d professed to love her. It almost allowed him to understand her reluctance to love him heart and soul. In his wife’s mind, love led only to a broken heart. How he wished he could undo the lessons of her childhood.

At that moment, Vicki walked in with a plate piled high with pasta and a glass of wine in her hands. “You might as well eat while we talk.”

He watched her put the food on the coffee table in front of him. “Thanks, honey. Why don’t you…oh right.”

“What?” She sat and shifted the album from his lap to hers.

“I was going to ask you to join me in a glass of wine.” He smiled. “It still gets me in the gut every time I think about you carrying our kid.”

“Me, too.” Smiling, she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “Eat.”

“So what were you doing with that thing?” he asked after a few bites.

“I’m letting myself remember.”

“Why?”

“Because I need to. I can’t just ignore what happened and still be me. I have to accept the fact that I was hurt by the people who were supposed to love me forever.” Her clear blue eyes looked into his. “I have to make peace with the past before I can move on to the future.”

His heart leapt into his throat at her implied statement but he was so damn proud of her. “You’re the bravest woman I know.”

She gave him a rueful smile. “You wouldn’t have said that if you’d seen me quaking in my boots before I met Mother for coffee today.”

Frowning, he put down his fork and tipped up her chin. “Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve—”

“Hush.” She placed a finger on his lips. “We all have things to face up to and Danica was one of mine. I couldn’t keep hiding from what she did to me any more than I can hide from these pictures.”

The strength he saw on her face was something he’d never expected to see in the girl he’d married. He was awed by her will, by her ability to move beyond the pain her mother had caused her. In this arena, Vicki was proving far more courageous than him. He could identify the need driving his desperation to save the firm, the need to prove himself to Max all over again, but he couldn’t overcome it. Not yet. “What did you decide after seeing her?”

She put her head against his side and began to flip the pages again. “I decided that I shouldn’t be afraid of feeling, of loving, of giving my everything. It hurts when it’s thrown back in your face but eventually, the pain dims and you can breathe again.”

He didn’t know how to read that statement, didn’t dare to hope. Putting an arm around her, he hugged her close. “Nothing you give me will be rejected. Nothing.”

To his surprise, she laughed. “What about my divorce application?”

“Except that.” He found himself smiling, too.

She turned a page and pointed to a picture of a somber eight-year-old standing by a bicycle. She was dressed perfectly, her almost white blond hair combed to within an inch of its life. “I could’ve used you back then. I think I’ll always need you. Don’t ever leave me, Caleb.”

Her last words were heartbreakingly quiet and he felt them in the core of his soul. Outside she was smiling and perhaps even laughing, but in her heart, Vicki was crying. Today she’d surrendered her last hopes and accepted that Danica wouldn’t ever be able to give her what she needed. Acceptance didn’t mean the pain was any less.

“Never,” he whispered, his voice husky from the knot of emotion choking his throat. “I wouldn’t go when you asked me to. Why would I leave voluntarily?”

Thirteen
V
icki curled in bed, thinking over the words Caleb had said to her as they sat on the couch. Next to her, he was fast asleep. She’d set the alarm to ring in a few hours so he could return to work, but she couldn’t sleep.
For the first time in her life, she was with someone who, quite simply, was too damn stubborn to walk away from her. Some women might have found that kind of possessive commitment daunting, but it was exactly what she needed. When she’d tried to divorce Caleb, she’d hoped to garner his attention, but she hadn’t understood the depths to which he’d go to keep the promise he’d made to her on their wedding day.

To love, honor and cherish. For always.

The extent of his loyalty humbled her. Her darling Caleb would be her rock, no matter what life threw at them. It was okay to take risks and open her heart and her body fully to him.

After all these years, the four-year-old girl inside her was smiling. She still felt a little bruised but was healed enough to take the next step.

Getting up out of Caleb’s arms, she walked quietly to the dresser and pulled out the lingerie she’d bought today. It was time to start showing her husband what he meant to her. He’d done so much for her and yet expected so little in return.

He’d been abandoned the same way she had and needed as much care and tenderness. The difference was, he’d never allow himself to break down as she’d done countless times, never allow himself to cry or ask for tenderness. She could accept that. It was simply the man he was. But it meant she had to read between the lines where his emotional needs were concerned.

A smile curved her lips—these days she was having no trouble reading Caleb, in bed or out…because her husband trusted her. She had every intention of treasuring that gift, starting now. Tonight she’d give him the tenderness he’d never accept in any other context, show him that she was his in every way.

Slipping out of her pj’s, she shimmied into the panties and camisole. There, she thought, feeling a mixture of nervousness and joy. That will surprise him when he wakes. She only hoped he’d understand what she was trying to say. Fighting a shiver, she crawled into bed next to Caleb’s warm body. He grumbled in his sleep then cuddled her close.

Caleb woke though the alarm hadn’t gone off. Staring at the clock, he realized it was an hour before he had to be up. Yawning, he was about to close his eyes when he registered the texture beneath his palm. Satin. Soft and silky and very touchable. He frowned. He’d been tired when he’d gone to bed but he was sure Vicki had been in her pj’s. Carefully, he switched on the bedside light.

Vicki was on her back, her head on one of his arms while his other arm lay across her stomach. Raising the one on her stomach, he lifted away the blanket to have a look, and froze.

These were not Vicki’s old pj’s.

Unable to do anything else, he bared her completely. She complained in her sleep so he started stroking her upper thighs, gentling her as he took in the delectable sight of his wife’s body showcased by satin and lace. The panties were cut high on her thighs, the lace edging the legs meeting the lace of the waistband. In sleep, the camisole had rucked up, exposing a strip of skin on her taut stomach that he couldn’t help running his finger over.

“Caleb,” she moaned, sounding more than half asleep.

He let his eyes wander up and almost begged for mercy. The left strap had fallen half off, exposing the creamy curve of one breast while the other remained primly covered. What did Vicki think she was doing? He was supposed to be concentrating on saving the Maxwell deal, not drowning in a river of hunger.

One hand on her thigh, he leaned over to drop a kiss on the bared skin of her breast. His stubble rubbed across her skin. She made a sleepy sound and one hand rose to tangle in his hair, keeping him where he was. Delighted, he tugged at the fallen strap until her breast popped free completely and he breathed a sigh of appreciation.

Stroking his hand up her body, he took her nipple between his fingertips and plucked at it, teasing her fully awake. She shifted and he moved enough to slide one hair-roughened thigh between her smooth ones. Rubbing his thumb over her nipple, he felt her hand clench in his hair.

“Caleb, what…?”

“These aren’t your pj’s,” he accused, without looking up from his task. He released her nipple from his fingers only to take it between his teeth. She gasped.

“I wanted to…um…” She gasped again as he let go of the nipple, scraping it with his teeth.
“Caleb.”

“You wanted to what?” he prompted, cupping her breast in his hand.

“To surprise you.” The roughness of desire colored her tone.

He pressed a kiss to her breastbone and rose to look at her. “Why?”

She blushed. “Because I wanted…”

“What?” He dipped his head to play with her other nipple through the satin of her top.

In his hair, her fingers spread and then clenched again. He licked and laved until the hard little bud was completely defined against the satin. “Tell me what you wanted.”

“Do I have to say it?” It was a husky plea that succeeded in capturing his full attention. The second his eyes met hers, he knew. His wife had worn this because she’d wanted to make love. She’d made the first move in her own deliberate way. He’d had no part in seducing her to this point, hadn’t even asked for a kiss.

Slowly, he shook his head, almost scared to face the hope bursting to life inside him. “Not this time.” Then he grinned, as the hope broke its bonds and shot through his bloodstream like white fire. “We’ve got years, and I kind of like your way of asking.”

Her blush deepened and under his hand, he felt her skin heat up. Looking down, he groaned at the sight of her flushed breast cupped in his palm. The image was rawly sexual and something primitive in him rejoiced. His wife. His woman. His lover.

At last, she was his lover in every sense. Not only accepting but also demanding. And it wasn’t just her body she was giving him. The emotions in her eyes were so powerful, he could barely believe it was his composed Victoria in his arms. He still needed to hear the words, needed to see her lips shape them into sound.

If she never said those words, it would hurt but it wouldn’t destroy, not when she was willing to show him how much he meant to her in other ways. He kissed his way down to her stomach and along the band of skin exposed by the camisole he’d pushed up. The fingers in his hair tugged.

“Caleb, honey.”

He raised his head to glance at her. “Hmm?”

“I want a kiss.” Her cheeks were red but the heat wasn’t from a blush. The glittering fever in her eyes spoke of something else entirely.

He gave her what she’d asked for. Never would he deny her anything in bed except in sensual play. Vicki’s kiss was a stroke of his senses, wild and uninhibited. As she kissed him, she wrapped one leg around his waist and bent the other so that he was cradled against her. The heat passed effortlessly through the satin of her panties and the cotton of his briefs, the most intimate of caresses.

He groaned his pleasure into her mouth, more than willing to let her be the aggressor in this intimacy of lips. Vicki could kiss like no other woman on earth. She put her soul into each glide of the tongue, each sensual bite of the lip until he felt kissed by her whole body.

No one else had ever lavished such pleasure on him.

When she ended the kiss, he gladly let her press him to the bed and straddle his body. She ran her fingers down his chest, through the rough darkness of the hair there. The look in her eyes was hotly sensual, distinctly proprietary.

“What are you doing?” He wasn’t complaining. Having his wife’s half-naked body for his private viewing pleasure was one of his favorite fantasies.

“Looking at you.” She slid the remaining strap of her camisole down her arm. For the first time in their married life there was no shyness in her.

He held his breath as her action bared both breasts.
“Vicki.”

With a very female smile, she drew the straps off her hands and let the camisole bunch around her waist. Above him, she was a symphony of cream and pink, luscious and tempting. When he ran his hands to her back and pushed gently, she leaned over to let him taste her breasts.

He didn’t tug as hard with his teeth as he might have before, aware that her breasts had become more sensitive. Her soft cry of pleasure had him pulling her down enough that he could suckle more of her flesh into his mouth. For long minutes, he alternated between breasts, licking, sucking, laving.

“Wait.” She pushed at him until he was flat on his back again, looking up at her.

“Come back,” he ordered, his fingers slipping in under the waistband of her panties to stroke her bottom. Her breasts were marked from his caresses, shining wet in the light. The sight was so erotic that he was having a very hard time controlling his arousal.

Instead of obeying, she ran her hands to the waistband of his briefs and slid one inside. Breathing became a lost art. He could barely see through the screaming need tearing through him. Then those slender fingers tightened and his entire body bucked toward her. He managed to keep his eyes open and on her. What he saw stunned him.

Desire lay heavy on her face and her lips were half parted as she breathed in soft gasps. When he groaned, she gave a soft cry. His pleasure fed hers, making him feel more male than he’d ever felt before. “Now, Vicki.”

She didn’t argue, pulling his briefs down to set his erection free. When she would have moved to take off her panties, he held her in place and, with one hand, simply pushed aside the fabric to bare her.

“Caleb.”
Her voice held equal measures of shock and hunger.

“Slowly, slowly.” He held her back when she would have pushed down hard, not wanting her to hurt herself in spite of the way he craved the silken heat of her body. “That’s it, sweetheart. Yeah…just like that.” Watching her take him in was so mind-blowing, he had to grit his teeth to stave off his climax.

She arched her back and cried out as she buried him fully within her. She looked like a pagan goddess, a sensual siren far removed from the cool woman he’d once had in his bed.

And then there was no more time to think. She started moving on him in a desperate way that betrayed her own approaching climax. No force on earth could have kept Caleb from shattering moments later, undone by the sensual creature who’d ridden him to ecstasy. He heard Vicki’s cry as he went over the edge, a short scream that was worth everything to him.

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