Secrets in the Marriage Bed (7 page)

If he was patient.

Caleb had never been much good at patience but damn if he wasn’t going to win a gold medal in it this time around. He was still grinning as he ducked into the shower. Fifteen minutes later, he finished putting on his tie and walked into the kitchen.

Vicki was at the stove, flipping pancakes. He loved pancakes but she usually only made them on weekends. Coming up behind her, he slipped his arms around her waist and kissed her neck. “Good morning.”

She went bright red as she mumbled “Good morning.” Turning off the stove, she put the pancakes on a plate.

He knew that part of her had to be worried about what they’d done last night, whether she’d acted the right way or not. Knowing that something was okay, and accepting it were two different things. “I’m looking forward to being patient tonight.”

“Caleb Callaghan!” Whirling around in his arms, she met his laughing gaze. “Don’t you tease me about this.”

“Why not?”

“Because I made you pancakes.”

Unable to resist, he kissed her. Her hands wrapped around his waist. They were still a little hesitant but they were there. And her mouth…her mouth was pure temptation. He kissed her with every ounce of passion in him.

When they parted, her lips were swollen, her eyes wide. He never wanted to let her go. She was his wife, the only one he’d ever wanted. If they could get past this, they could get past everything else. “We’ll be okay.”

“Caleb, this isn’t the only problem we had. It might even have been the least of them. I’ve always wanted you. I just didn’t know how to show it.”

He was startled by the echo of his thoughts. “But if we can talk about this after so long, we can talk about anything.”

“Can we?” Clouds moved over the sunshine of her face. “You’re not exactly open. After all this time, I barely know you. I feel like you’re only willing to share the
easy
parts of yourself. The rest, you keep locked up tight.”

He rested his forehead against hers, rocked by how well she understood him. “I’ll fight for you, Vicki. So, fight for me.” It was an invitation with terrifying implications. What if she discovered the shame he’d spent a lifetime trying to erase?

Callaghan & Associates was representing the Donner family in the sale of their multi-million-dollar shipping concern to Bentley Corporation. The deal was almost done, the financial negotiations finalized, the legal paperwork drafted. The contract was to be signed today.

“Kent, I don’t think I heard you right.” Caleb stared at his most competent associate. “I thought you said Abe Donner changed his mind.” Abe was the patriarch of the clan, the one who’d founded their business empire. He was eighty-six and the best tactician Caleb had ever seen, but unfortunately, he had an emotional attachment to the shipping part of the family’s interests.

Kent winced. “He just sent through a fax. Here.” He shoved the fax at Caleb as if getting rid of a bomb.

Caleb read the three-line letter and dropped his head in his hands. He didn’t need this right now. He wished Abe Donner to perdition and back and then started thinking about the next steps.

As attorneys for the family, they would, of course, do as the Donners wanted. The problem was, the Donners were split—Abe on one side and the rest of the family on the other. Abe controlled fifty percent of the shares, so without him, Bentley wasn’t interested.

“If they don’t sign today, Bentley will back out. There’s a good chance they’ll start negotiations to buy Snow-Hinkerman Lines instead of Donner,” Kent said, as if Caleb didn’t know.

“And if Bentley backs out, Donner Shipping is going to go down,” Caleb muttered. “It’s already leeching money from all their other businesses.”

“What do we do now?” Kent’s face said he knew the answer but didn’t want to be the one to say it.

“We advise the family.”

Their hastily drafted fax to the other shareholders was like throwing a grenade into a busy street. The shrapnel went every which way and Caleb spent his day trying to referee between the two camps while keeping an already edgy Bentley from throwing in the towel.

Finally, at around one in the morning, Abe conceded defeat to his children and grandchildren and signed on the dotted line. Caleb knew it had been the only viable option given the state of the shipping operations, but he felt for the old man. He’d hate it if someone tried to take Callaghan & Associates from him.

Tired and hungry after having missed both lunch and dinner, his mind on the files he’d have to catch up on tomorrow, he parked the car in the driveway of the villa, then started to walk up the path. He hadn’t gone more than a few feet when the front door opened to reveal Vicki. Dressed in one of his old rugby jerseys, she looked good enough to eat, but he wasn’t happy to see her there. “What are you doing up?”

Vicki couldn’t miss the lines of tiredness on his face and tried to tell herself to be patient. “Waiting for you.” She closed the door behind him and headed to the bedroom, excruciatingly aware of his presence at her back.

“You’re pregnant. You need your sleep.” He began to undress the second they reached the room.

Getting into bed, she let him get rid of his shoes, belt, jacket and tie before she spoke again. “You’re doing it all over again.” Her eye fell on the book on the bedside table, the book she’d planned to share with him tonight.

“What?” He shoved his hand through his hair, clearly distracted.

In the past, she’d always left him alone when he got like this, reasoning that the matters on his mind must be very important. That was before she’d realized that nothing was as important as their marriage. “What got us into trouble the first time.”

He began to unbutton his shirt. “Christ, Vicki. All I want to do is catch a few hours’ sleep and you’re trying to start a fight?”

She clenched her fists. “I’m trying to make sure we don’t make the same mistakes twice. Don’t treat me like I’m not worth listening to!”

“What?” He turned, six feet two inches of male annoyance and rippling muscle under his unbuttoned shirt. “I work late one night and you give me the third degree? This is my job! You know some of the deals have us working day and night for weeks on end. I’m sorry I didn’t call but things got a little crazy.”

What Vicki heard was that he hadn’t even thought about her once work had intervened. It was a painful truth but one she was through avoiding. Caleb’s passion was his firm and she couldn’t live with that anymore. “Listen to yourself!” Throwing aside the blanket, she knelt on the sheets, her stomach hurting from the tension coiled up inside. “I don’t think a man who’s gone for weeks on end qualifies as a husband.”

He swore under his breath and jerked off his shirt, throwing it to the side. “What do you want me to do? Quit?”

“No. I just want you to think!” Trying to calm herself down, she took a deep breath. The scent of his aftershave shocked her hormones to life, reminding her of the pleasures of the night before, but she couldn’t let herself be distracted from this conversation. It was too important. “If you’re like this now, how will you make time to be a father? Or will I have to be both mother and father?”

“You’ve got the time,” he shot back. “Or would that get in the way of your lunches with friends?”

She gasped and threw a pillow at him. “Get out!”

“The hell I will! This is my bedroom.”

“Fine!” She got off the bed and stalked to the door. “I’ll leave.”

“Vicki,”
he growled.

She was too angry to care. Pulling open the door, she headed to the spare bedroom. She felt him behind her and then his arm wrapped around her waist. “Don’t be melodramatic,” he said, his tone arrogant enough to make her want to scream. “Let’s go to bed. We’ll talk about it later.”

How many times had they said that in their marriage? Frustrated by his unwillingness to even attempt to see things from her perspective, she wrenched herself away. “I want to be alone.” Walking into the spare bedroom, she lay down on the bed, facing the wall.

Of course he followed, laying down beside her stiff form. She heard him sigh. “I’m sorry about the lunch crack.”

She shrugged, aware that the reason it had hurt so much was because he was right. It was why she’d started looking at those brochures for further education. She did
nothing
while he worked all day. “I don’t want to be that woman.” The words broke out of her. “It makes me so angry that you see me that way.”

“I’m sorry, honey. I really am.”

“Yes well, it’s true, isn’t it? What else am I possibly qualified for? Nothing.”

“Come on, Vicki…”

“Forget it, Caleb.” She wasn’t ready to talk to him about this. Why had she even brought up the subject? “Just stop pushing and let me think.”

The body wrapped around hers filled with tension. “So you can talk yourself into something else as equally idiotic as our separation?”

Her simmering temper ignited. “You think me wanting to work outside the home is idiotic?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“It sure sounded like it. Poor, stupid Vicki. Maybe if you’d supported my needs instead of trying to make me be what you wanted, I wouldn’t have had to ask for a separation.”

“Now it’s all my fault.”

Not feeling particularly rational, she said, “Yes.”

“Jesus.” The arm around her refused to move but she felt his anger. “I’m too exhausted to do this right now.”

“Fine.”

She felt him fall asleep minutes later, while she lay awake for what seemed like hours, temper, frustration and angry jealously churning in her gut. The truth was a floodlight shining into her eyes. Her husband might have slept with Miranda—might still be sleeping with her—but it was the firm that was his true mistress.

How could Vicki fight that?

Not happy at the reminder that the firm had a grip on him stronger than any woman’s, she forced herself to say, “Have a good day,” as she walked him to the door. Still feeling bruised from their altercation, she was finding it very hard to act as though everything was fine.

He paused with his hand on the doorknob. “I’m not ignoring what you said last night. I’ll be home for dinner but I might have to go back to the office afterward.” His eyes met hers. “I can’t change the habits of a lifetime overnight.”

Her heart warmed. At least he was willing to try to see things from her point of view. She didn’t mind if he worked late sometimes, but the problem with Caleb was that he was so driven that
sometimes
could easily turn into
always.
She’d learned that the hard way. “Think of it as practice for being home at bath time and bedtime.” If he was willing to try, so was she.

The strain on his face lessened at the acceptance in her voice. “Do you want to go out for dinner?”

She shook her head. “I’d rather spend some quiet time alone. You?”

“Home. I’ll aim to arrive around six.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

After he left, Vicki quickly tidied up the house, haunted by the same issue that had so angered her the night before. She still had no idea what she could do for self-improvement. It depressed her how unqualified she was to be anything other than a society wife.

She knew how to mingle, how to be the perfect hostess, how to make people laugh and feel good about themselves, how to create contacts for Caleb and ensure the right people met at dinners or parties—she even knew how to soothe the worst of tempers without making a big deal of it. What job did that qualify her for?

The harsh jangle of the phone interrupted her pity party sometime around mid-morning. She picked it up, surprised to find Caleb on the other end.

“I’ve set up an appointment for you to talk to someone,” he said, sounding harassed. “She’ll come by the house at eleven.”

“Who?”

“Her name’s Helen Smith. I’ve got to go, sweetheart. One of our major client’s sons got picked up for underage drinking. Imbecile. If he wanted to drink, why didn’t he ask his father? The man has a wine cellar the size of Texas.”

“I didn’t know you handled things like that.”

“We don’t, except as a courtesy to our commercial clients. Everyone else is tied up today so I have to make the court appearance on junior’s behalf in twenty minutes.”

He hung up without further goodbyes. Surprised and mystified, she saw that she had half an hour before her guest’s arrival. Deciding her jeans and pale pink shirt would do, she set about preparing a fresh pot of coffee and some quick biscuits. She was pulling them out of the oven when the doorbell rang.

She opened it to find a woman of around Caleb’s age on the doorstep. Dressed in jeans and a navy sweatshirt, she had long auburn hair pulled into a ponytail.

“Ms. Smith?” Vicki held out her hand.

The other woman shook it. “Just Helen. You must be Victoria.”

“Please come in.”

In the living room, Vicki served coffee and biscuits before saying, “I’m sorry, but my husband didn’t tell me much…”

Helen nodded. “He sounded very busy when he called. I’ll explain. I met Caleb a year ago when I approached Callaghan & Associates for free legal representation in a messy case involving one of my clients.”

Vicki knew that taking on pro bono work was an accepted part of Caleb’s practice. He said it kept everyone honest. “I see.”

“Kent Jacobs handled the case, but I believe your husband oversaw it.” Helen put down her cup and loosely linked her hands together on her knees.

“I’m afraid I still don’t see where this is going.”

“I’m involved with several charities,” Helen explained.

Vicki’s heart sank. Was this what Caleb thought she should be doing—sitting on some charity board giving away his money?

“We have a position up for grabs. To be honest the pay sucks, but it is a paid
job.”

Her attention snapped back to the redhead.

“We’re looking for a dedicated fund-raiser for all the charities under an umbrella organization called Heart, someone whose sole focus will be to continuously raise money for us.”

Vicki nearly stopped breathing as she recalled her own list of accomplishments.

She knew how to mingle, how to be the perfect hostess, how to make people laugh and feel good about themselves, how to create contacts and ensure the right people met, and how to soothe the worst of tempers without making a big deal of it.

Hope had scarcely started to blossom when she noticed the look on Helen’s face. “What is it?”

“I’m going to be honest.” The woman’s expression was professional. “I’m here as a courtesy because of the help Callaghan & Associates gave us. This job is flexible but it’s full time.” She frowned, then seemed to opt for brutal truth. “I’m leery of offering it to you. Frankly, it’s not a position created to help a bored wife fill in a few hours. We don’t need you to organize a thousand-dollar-a-plate dinner for us, then stand back and bask in the applause. We need our fund-raiser to constantly generate funds, to come up with new ideas month after month.”

Caleb, Vicki realized, had really dropped her in it this time. This was serious, nothing like a ceremonial board position. She wanted it so much she could hardly breathe but Helen was right. She had no experience or qualifications. Could she really do it? Then she remembered why Helen had come to see her in the first place. Because of Caleb. That he thought she was capable of this meant a great deal.

“I understand your concerns,” she told Helen. “There’s something else you need to know. I’m pregnant.” She was a lawyer’s wife—she knew it wasn’t something she had to disclose, but she wanted every single fact on the table.

“That wouldn’t matter if you were qualified. Like I said, it’s a flexible position. And—” the other woman shrugged “—we don’t have spare office space anyway so you’d be working from home.”

“I want to do this.” Vicki leaned forward, speaking with all her heart. “I know I’m not qualified and I know that to you I look like a spoiled wife, but I’d like to be more. Give me a chance.”

Helen’s eyes widened. “You’re serious?” She continued to gaze at Vicki for another long moment. “Yes, I can see that you are.”

“Could you give me a trial period? A month? If I can’t cut it, I’ll walk away and you don’t even have to pay me.”

“Tell you what. If you deliver, we’ll pay you retroactively.” Helen stood, clearly amused. “I should have known a man like Caleb Callaghan wouldn’t be satisfied with a trophy wife. You’re not what I expected.”

“Thank you…I think.”

“Thank me after you’ve seen the job you’ve taken on. We bleed money. I’ll e-mail you the relevant details.”