Desperately, she fought down the swell of emotion.
Distance. Detachment. She had to keep her objectivity in this marriage if she was going to survive unscathed. Had to remember that this same man had abruptly ended their relationship for another woman. He’d already told her that when he secured his rights to Ally, they’d be free to get a divorce. A disposable marriage. Just as she’d been disposable to him five years ago.
The touch of a warm hand on hers shocked her out of her wandering thoughts. She raised a startled gaze when Cal lifted her hand to slip a gold band on her finger. He handed her the second ring, then held his hand out for her to reciprocate.
Deep breaths. Don’t lose control.
Her fingers shook as she slid the band in place. When she tried to pull away, Cal caught her hand and held her cold, trembling fingers in the warm fold of his own. The heat and strength in his grasp were almost enough to drive away the doubts chilling her to the marrow. His grip felt safe. Steady. Solid.
But the last time she’d needed him to be there for her, he’d abandoned her. Shattered her faith. Broken her heart.
The judge pronounced them man and wife and turned to Cal with a grin. “You may kiss your bride.”
Libby’s stomach pitched.
No way.
Cal had accepted her terms. He’d agreed to keep things strictly hands-off. He’d promised. So he wouldn’t…he couldn’t…he…cupped her cheek in his palm and tipped her chin up.
Libby gawked at him, her heart thumping.
His piercing gaze zeroed in on her mouth like a heat-seeking missile. And ka-boom.
The light touch of his lips rocked her world but was over before her knees could even buckle. A simple graze of warmth against her mouth, a whisper of his minty breath against her skin. He backed away an inch or two, and Libby allowed herself to sigh her relief.
She remembered too well how devastating his kisses could be, and she was in no condition today to handle one of Cal’s soul-searing lip-locks.
She tried to back away from him, but his hand slid to the base of her neck and tugged her close again. When she gasped her alarm, he seized his chance and went in for the kill.
Sealing his lips over hers, he wrapped steely arms around her and pulled her body flush with his. Heat radiated from the tight cords of muscle and man, melting her bones. His mouth scalded her, sent waves of pleasure coursing through her body.
Cal shaped her mouth, molded it with his until they were one, as surely as she’d just bound her life with his. When his tongue stroked her lips, she opened to him, her will to refuse him incinerated by his touch.
Every memory she’d suppressed of lying naked in this man’s arms rushed to the surface. Her body remembered what was too painful for her heart to recall.
They’d made music together—their bodies in perfect sync, their souls in harmony. They fit.
But then he’d walked away.
The icy reminder jolted her back to the present, cooled her overheated blood in an instant. Libby tore her mouth from his and gave him a firm shove, glaring her disapproval. “What happened to our agreement?” she whispered under her breath. “Hands-off. You promised.”
He gave her a lazy grin, his lips still moist and swollen from their kiss. “Hey, I was just following the judge's orders.” His eyes darkened to the shade of sapphires. “What’s your excuse?”
Temporary insanity.
She’d left herself vulnerable to him by remembering how good things had once been between them.
“I have to get back to court,” she said in clipped tones. With a nod of thanks to Judge Mathison, she marched over to the chair where she’d dumped her coat.
What was she thinking, kissing Cal back? Letting him sneak under her radar and devastate her control like that? She could only blame herself if she let him past her defenses and allowed him to wreck her life a second time.
Shoving her arms in her coat, she crossed the room again to the tall wingback chair where Ally sat. She patted the little girl’s knee and flashed a smile. “Your dad says you get to spend the weekend with us again. Maybe we can go to the zoo in Monroe. Do you like the zoo?”
Ally bobbed her head. Her eyes brightened—eyes so like her father’s, it hurt to look at them. “I like the monkeys.”
Libby grinned. “Yeah. Me, too. They’re funny, huh?”
The child’s face grew serious, too serious for a four-year-old. “Do I call you mommy now?”
All the air whooshed from Libby’s lungs. Her chest contracted as if sucked tight by a vacuum. “If…if that’s what you want. But you understand you still have your real mommy, right?”
“Daddy said you’re my—” Ally scrunched her nose, thinking hard “—s-stepmother?”
Libby took a deep breath, rubbed Ally’s knee. “That’s right, honey.”
“He said that’s like a second mommy. Like in Cinderella, ’cept you’re nice.”
Libby chuckled. “Well, thank you.” She lifted Ally’s chin to meet her eyes. So far, Cal had done an admirable job of explaining each new circumstance to his daughter, but Libby wanted to be sure Ally understood all the changes and wasn’t unduly frightened. “You know I’m not trying to replace your real mommy? You’ll always have your real mommy, too, no matter what happens.”
“Uh-huh.” Ally bobbed her head, bouncing her dark curls, then buried her face on Libby’s shoulder.
An unexpected warmth seeped into Libby’s chilled bones.
A mother. She’d ruled out the possibility of having her own children years ago. Her demanding career and her lack of a love life had made marriage and family seem remote. What did she know about being a parent? Caring for someone small and helpless?
The idea of someone depending on her, needing her guidance when there were no guidelines, scared her spitless. It was too much like the life she’d left behind when her own mother finally drank herself to death.
Which was exactly why she had to do this for Ally. Stubborn determination burned deep in her core. She wouldn’t let Ally face the kind of lonely, trying childhood she’d known.
“Hey, kitten, are you all right?”
Cal’s buttery tone brought Ally’s head up. Wiggling from Libby’s grasp, she reached toward her father.
Libby brushed aside the sense of emptiness, the cold void inside when Ally left her arms. She shrugged deeper into the folds of her coat, struggling to reclaim her composure. Her emotions had taken a beating this morning, and she needed time to regroup, to bolster her defenses.
Draping her purse on her shoulder, she cast Cal a quick glance as she backed toward the door. But even in that heartbeat, she found a tenderness and gratitude in his eyes that burrowed through her protective armor.
She was in deep trouble.
“So, I’ve got all my stuff in my truck. I plan to move my things to your place this afternoon,” Cal said.
Her throat felt too dry for her to speak. Instead, she gave him a curt nod. Before her quivering knees gave out, she turned.
And fled.
Chapter 5
That evening, Libby parked beside Cal’s truck in her driveway and dragged her briefcase from the front seat of her Camry. Despite the January chill, she stood beside her car for a moment gathering the courage to face Cal again. Alone. In her home. As his wife.
The whole situation seemed custom-designed to taunt her with all the domestic fantasies she’d once harbored concerning Cal. His marriage to Renee had ripped the rug out from under her and sent her dreams of home and family crumbling around her. Now she had what she’d once craved so much. But it wasn’t real.
Libby set her briefcase down and hugged herself against the damp wind that cut through her coat. She turned to survey the houses on her street, imagining the children who would play in the other front yards come spring. The husbands who greeted their wives with a kiss at the end of a long day. The family bliss she’d never had growing up but had seen portrayed in ideal form on TV.
And how do you
plan to convince people we’re happily married if I can’t even touch you?
Shaking her head, Libby pushed aside envious thoughts of her neighbors’ happy families.
Quit stalling, she told herself as she bent to hoist her bulging briefcase again.
She’d only walked a few steps toward the door when a strange prickling sensation skittered down the back of her neck—the same odd feeling she’d experienced a week ago, before her stalker had chased her down the stairwell.
He was watching her again.
Heart thundering, Libby held her breath and listened. The winter wind rattled empty branches. Dead leaves, stirred by the icy breeze, scratched their way across her driveway. In the distance, a lone dog barked.
Slowly, she turned and scanned the street. None of the cars seemed out of place. No one lurked in the shadows. Still, the uneasy sense that she wasn’t alone didn’t fade.
“Hello?” Her breath formed a white cloud when she spoke.
No one was there. Maybe it was just the accumulated stress toying with her imagination. Or maybe she was becoming paranoid, playing into the fear her stalker wanted to build in her. She huffed and strode briskly to the door. Enough dawdling in the damp, cold air, conjuring boogeymen who weren’t there. She had plenty to worry about inside.
She stopped in the foyer to hang up her coat and craned her neck, looking for Cal in the living room. Empty.
“I’m home,” she called toward the kitchen.
“Me-row.” Jewel trotted out of Libby’s bedroom and wound around her ankles as she crammed her coat in the too-full closet.
“Hi, sweet girl. How are you?” she cooed to the cat, lifting the purring feline to her shoulder and scratching Jewel’s head. “You’re my girl, aren’t you? Uh-huh.”
A masculine chuckle rumbled from the kitchen door.
“Fickle female,” Cal said with a grin. “She just told me she was my girl. ’Course, she could have just been saying that so I’d feed her.”
He propped one shoulder on the wall and crossed his feet at the ankles. His bare feet.
Libby set Jewel back on the floor, feeling suddenly breathless. Something about Cal’s walking around her house without shoes seemed incredibly…intimate.
“Um…hi.” She dusted cat hair off her blouse and carried her briefcase into the living room.
Cal followed. “Hi, yourself.”
She sought comfort from the familiarity of her favorite room, filled with handpicked pieces she’d bought on Antique Alley in West Monroe. Her mother had owned only cheap, mass-produced furniture which easily wore out or broke. Seeking durability and beauty for her own home, Libby had gravitated to solid, handmade antiques, finely upholstered chairs and tables of solid wood.
“I was wondering when you might drag in. I was waiting until you got home to eat. Thought maybe we’d go out someplace in honor of our wedding,” Cal said.
Libby thought of their dinner at the pizza parlor with Ally. The familial atmosphere. The cozy booth. Cal’s casual touches and penetrating gaze.
She shook her head. “I’m…not hungry.”
“Mmm.” He shrugged. “Okay.”
She read disappointment in the quirk of his mouth and his darkening eyes. She winced, feeling like she’d kicked a friendly dog. “Thanks, anyway.”
“Well, I think I’ll fix myself a sandwich or something. I’m starved.”
She nodded. “Help yourself to anything in the fridge. I think there’s some ham in the hydrator.”
He didn’t move, only stared at her with his square jaw set, his blue eyes blazing and his arms crossed over his chest. His muscled chest. Clad in a formfitting black T-shirt that delineated every ridge of sinew and strength. Dear God, the man was even more breathtaking now than he’d been five years ago.
Her pulse fluttered in her neck, and her mouth went dry. She tore her gaze away. Heaven help her, she had to share a house with all that masculinity.
She forced her voice to work. “Did you, uh, get everything moved in okay?”
Giving the room a cursory glance, she didn’t notice much more than a few boxes in one corner.
“There wasn’t much to move. Renee got all the furniture in the divorce. What was I gonna do with it? I was in prison.”
She gave him a little nod of acknowledgment. “So, what you’re saying is you really married me for my sofa and lamps?”
He blinked and cocked his head, seemingly startled by her attempt at humor.
She half smiled and looked away, all the more awkward after her shot at levity fell flat.
“Actually, the table and chairs are what I’m after.”
She faced him again, and his lopsided grin sent an arrow of bittersweet memory zinging to her soul. She’d missed this. Missed his lame jokes, his company, his sexy smile.
Emotion clogged her throat, and she spun away. “I’m going to…take a bath and read a few case files I brought home.”
She had to remember the pain Cal had caused her, the starkness of her life when he’d abandoned her, rather than his charm. She had to keep her guard up, or he could so easily devastate her life again.
“Hey, are you with me?” Stan waved his hand in front of Libby’s eyes and whistled through his teeth. “Earth to Libby.”
Blinking Stan into focus, she gave him a sheepish grin. “Sorry, I’ve had trouble concentrating today. I…”
She pinched the bridge of her nose, shaking thoughts of yesterday’s wedding—Cal’s kiss, Ally’s hug and her own abrupt departure—from her mind. “What were you saying about Mrs. Hendrick?”
“It’s Kendrick, with a K, and we finished discussing her ten minutes ago.”
Libby sighed and flopped back in her desk chair. Her wedding ring weighted her hand, a nagging reminder of all she’d committed herself to.
Marriage. Motherhood. Cohabiting with Cal.
She twisted the gold band nervously. Cal had spent his first night in her guest room last night. She’d thought she’d feel safer having Cal around, his presence an added protection from the stalker. But she couldn’t help but wonder if Cal didn’t pose a greater danger to her well-being.
“Hellooo. What is this?” Stan snagged her hand and examined the new addition. “A wedding ring? When did you start wearing this? Did the cops tell you to do this to put the stalker off?”
“No. My husband put it there to show the world we were married.”
Stan laughed. “Come on, Lib. Really. What gives?”
She didn’t smile. “Really. I—” she swallowed hard “—I got married yesterday at lunch.”
Her colleague stared at her blankly, as if trying to decide if she were joking.
From the next room, Helen poked her head in the office. “You did what!”
Libby held her hand up for Helen to see the ring. “I got married.”
“Holy smoke! But you…you’re not even dating anyone. Who—?”
“An old flame. If circumstances had been a bit different the first time, we’d probably have gotten married years ago.” She hesitated, wondering if that were true. Had Cal really cared for her as much as she’d cared for him? If he had, how could he have walked away so easily? She squashed the niggling doubt and squared her shoulders. “Anyway, he asked me to marry him, and I said yes. So…”
“Wait a minute. An ex? You don’t mean Cal Walters, do you?” Helen scurried closer to examine the ring, her eyes wide.
Stan frowned and sputtered an obscenity that left no doubt what he thought of Cal. “Tell me it’s not Walters. Please!”
Her phone rang, sparing her from answering Stan. She scooped up the receiver and turned her back to her colleague’s expression of horror.
“Libby Hopkins.”
“Hey, Lib. Listen, I need a favor.”
The rich sound of Cal’s voice puddled in her gut like melted chocolate. She chastised herself for her schoolgirl reaction and squeezed the phone tighter so her hand wouldn’t shake. “I can’t really talk now. I’m in a meeting—”
>
“Gary, Renee’s boyfriend, busted his head somehow this morning. They’re at the E.R.”
“Cal, I—”
She heard Stan’s groan, Helen’s whispered “I knew it!”
“I’m not clear on the details,” Cal said. “He tripped or something, banged his head on the corner of the cabinet when he fell.”
“Stoned, no doubt,” she added.
“No doubt. Anyway, Renee needs us to get Ally. She doesn’t know how long they’ll be tied up at the hospital. I could pick Ally up, but I can’t bring her back here to the construction site.”
“Are you asking me to watch her?” Panic shot through her veins. “Cal, I’ve got meetings all afternoon! What am I supposed to do with a four-year-old girl while I’m discussing the Oliver case with the D.A.?”
“Can’t she sit in your office and color, or something?”
“I thought she went to day care.”
“She does, three days a week. Today is one of her preschool days. She gets out at noon. Renee usually has her on Friday afternoons.”
“Oh.” She scribbled that tidbit on her desk calendar, knowing she’d need to learn Ally’s schedule.
“I already called her day care about a drop-in today,” Cal continued, “but they’re full. Please, Lib. I need your help on this.”
Helen waved her hand and pointed to her chest, mouthing, “I’ll watch her.”
Libby’s head spun. How did other working mothers deal with crises like this? There had to be an obvious solution, but what did she know about motherhood?
Married one day, and already her life was getting turned upside down. Libby pressed her palm to her desk and concentrated on slowing her breathing. She could handle this. She’d worked her way through college, tackled law school alone and secured a coveted position in the D.A.’s office. Surely a woman of her capabilities could shuffle her schedule enough to babysit her stepdaughter for the afternoon.
“I…guess I can reschedule most of my appointments.” She eyed Helen, sending her unspoken request.
“I’m on it,” her assistant replied.
“And Helen says she’ll watch Ally while I meet with the D.A.”
To Love, Honor and Defend Page 7