Life Shocks Romances Contemporary Romance Box Set

by Jade Kerrion

  When dinner was over, he offered to clean up, but Marlena interrupted. “But I want a story. I want to play before bedtime.”

  Valeria glanced at him. “They have about an hour before they have to go to bed. I’m sure they’d like to spend it with you, if you can spare the time.” Her tone was neutral, but he sensed her cool distance. Everything in him wanted to grab her immediately and beg her to tell him how to fix everything that had gone wrong between them, but she was right. The children came first.

  The deep-seated anxiety over Valeria gnawed at him, plucking away at his peace of mind and his focus in spite of his best efforts to engage with his children. He was relived when he finally tucked his children in bed and turned off the light. He shut their bedroom doors, and for a moment, leaned against the wall and closed his eyes.

  Stress was like a living animal, its claws digging into his shoulders. Fear was a hard lump in the pit of his stomach.

  For the first time in his life, he didn’t have a plan. He didn’t know what to do, and it terrified him.

  ~*~

  Valeria curled, her bare feet tucked beneath her, on the chaise lounge in the living room. The adjustable spotlights had been turned to a low setting. The near darkness suited her; at that moment, shadows were more conducive to her frame of mind. She drew in a deep breath and sipped from her glass of sangria.

  Gabriel had obviously come home early to talk her out of a divorce. She knew all the arguments he could marshal. Divorces were costly for families, typically resulting in a lower standard of living for all involved since the money had to support two households instead of one. Divorces were rough on children, who were frequently the silent, most damaged victims of a failed marriage. A divorce would be tough for her; it would be difficult for someone like her, who had been out of the workforce for over a decade, to regain her professional footing.

  Her grip tightened on her glass. Cherish’s words rang through her mind. Be strong. Don’t cave. Don’t listen to him. He’s a divorce lawyer, for God’s sake. He knows exactly what to say to make a divorce happen. He probably also knows exactly what to say to stop one from taking place. Don’t let him stop you from getting what you want.

  She heard his step on the stairs and had time to brace herself. He walked past the living room without looking in. Obviously, he was heading to his study.

  Wasn’t he even going to talk to her? For a moment, her anxiety over the impending confrontation with Gabriel gave way to the vague sense that he had insulted her. Perhaps she had overestimated how badly he wanted to stay in the marriage. After all, if they divorced and she claimed primary custody of the children, he could return to the free lifestyle of a single man. It probably suited him better—no need to worry about returning home in time to see the children before bedtime, no inconvenient school fairs cramping his weekend getaways.

  Moments later, his steps echoed along the corridor, and he stopped outside the living room. The light in the hallway behind him cast his tall, muscular frame into a silhouette.

  She wasn’t mentally or emotionally prepared for the rush of warmth and comfort she drew just from seeing him standing there. Valeria pressed her lips together. The ache in her chest could not possibly still be love.

  “Val.” The familiarity of her name on his lips and the kindness in his voice caused tears to sting her eyes. If only she could know for certain if the emotions in his voice were real. “Would you like a glass of wine?”

  She raised her glass of sangria to him.

  He nodded. Instead of returning to the kitchen bar to get a glass for himself, he walked down the two steps into the living room. “How are you doing?”

  Cherish’s voice rang through her mind. Don’t respond by saying any more than he’s asking for. Don’t go deep. It’s a lawyer’s tactic. Conversations are used to probe for weakness. Valeria swallowed hard. “I’m fine.”

  Gabriel glanced away for a split second. He seemed unaware of the flicker of vulnerability in his otherwise cool, professional façade.

  He opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off. “Did you hear back from any judges?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Did you reach out to them?” Valeria heard the snap of frustration in her voice, but the words and the tone could not be recalled.

  Surprisingly, Gabriel did not react. “I have time set up to meet with some people.”

  Time. Didn’t he care that Peter Brown was almost out of time? Valeria swallowed the bitter awareness that if Gabriel didn’t care enough to attend his own anniversary dinner, he wouldn’t extend himself for a little boy he knew nothing about. Still, she had asked for his help, and she had hoped—stupidly—that he would come through for her, if not for Peter. “Couldn’t you just send an e-mail?”

  He shook his head. “Not how things work in the legal circles. I’ll get a better response face to face.”

  That’s why he’s here, home early, talking to me. He’s trying to get a better response. She set her glass down on the side table. The sharp crack of glass against wood jolted through the silence between them.

  A better response for what? He could not possibly have known that she had gone to see Brandon Smith. As far as Gabriel knew, their marriage was still on track for a family vacation, not a divorce.

  Valeria swallowed hard and resisted the urge to squirm uncomfortably beneath his gaze. Why was he staring at her as if he couldn’t take his eyes off her, as if he had something to say but couldn’t find the words?

  ~*~

  Gabriel forced himself to keep his hands relaxed when the tension and frustration would have had him curling them into fists. Silence fell like a shroud between him and Valeria. Each time it did, the distance between them seemed to grow.

  He wanted to tell her about his conversation with Peter’s insurance company, but it was too premature, even though a positive outcome seemed likely. After Valeria had told him about the Browns’ battle with the insurance company, Gabriel had called them and offered to represent them pro bono. He had then sent a letter to the insurance company, identifying himself as a lawyer retained by the family, and articulated Peter’s case. Not too subtly, he had threatened the company with a lawsuit unless the company reconsidered its stance on Peter’s so-called preexisting medical condition.

  The insurance company was scrambling for a response. He knew as much from the appointments the company’s legal counsel had attempted to set up with him. He had made it clear, though, that he was interested only in a settlement or a solution, and the insurance company had a week to deliver it; a young child dying of cancer didn’t have enough time for lawyers to muck around with their legal reindeer games.

  The company’s lawyers had called back and finalized an appointment for the following Friday. If he guessed right, he would have good news for Peter’s family—as much as any news could be considered good in light of a child’s illness.

  Valeria didn’t get it. She wouldn’t have, although he wished she did. Instead, she focused on granting wishes—like visits to Disney World or playacting the day away as a make-believe judge—when in the real world, real things mattered, like who was responsible for hundreds of thousands of dollars in medical bills. A failed wish would not have left Peter’s family any worse off; massive debt, however, could have shattered the family.

  Gabriel had once believed that he and Valeria had everything in common, including disadvantaged backgrounds and a burning desire to do better for themselves and for their family. He had once believed that he and Valeria were united in purpose, but he was no longer certain how much common ground they shared, apart from the two children who shared their genes.

  If he needed a reminder of how different he and Valeria were, he could have found no better example than in their approach to the priorities of the dying child’s family.

  Here she was, worrying about how to hassle a judge into indulging a child’s one-day role-play, while he focused instead on the hundreds of thousands of dollars of debt the child’s sickness
was costing his family.

  Priorities. He sighed.

  His priority was to work, to secure that promotion to partner, to secure his family’s future, including trust funds for the children, retirement accounts for Valeria and for him, a hefty rainy day fund for emergencies, and more than enough money to enjoy a life of luxury every day. He stifled a sigh and pressed his thumb against a tender spot at the side of his head, pulsing shafts of pain through his temple. “I brought back a lot of work. I should get started.”

  She nodded. She did not even look at him.

  Gabriel’s breath caught. Did she know how alone, how vulnerable she looked on that couch, her arms wrapped across the front of her chest to ward off the chill of the night?

  To hell with work. I love her. How can I even think about walking away at a time like this?

  Aching for her as much as for himself, he leaned down. With gentle hands, he tipped her face up and breathed a featherlight kiss on her lips.

  ~*~

  The physical contact jolted her. Her eyes flared wide, but the comfort of his warmth, his scent, and his strength drew her back into a time when she had known him well and known that he loved her. She wanted the Gabriel of her past. She wanted the uncomplicated love they had enjoyed before his job became more important than she was to him.

  Valeria closed her eyes to surround herself with memories. She exhaled with a whimper as she pressed her body against his. Her hands fisted in his shirt, pulling him close, before her fingers expertly worked at the buttons.

  He deepened the kiss, their tongues tangling, breaths mingling, as she slid his shirt back and away from his body. His skin was warm, as if heated by her fingertips gliding across his muscled torso down to his trousers. He sucked in his breath as she unbuckled his belt and eased his pants down his legs. He kicked them aside, tugged her dress over her head, and then drew her back down to the chaise lounge.

  His hands caressed her, stroking her in all the places she craved his touch most. The familiarity was soothing. She knew what would happen next—the slow but unrelenting rise to unbearable pleasure, the maddening gentleness that underscored each teasing nip, each tantalizing caress with his hands and his tongue.

  No, she didn’t want any of that.

  She wanted to go further back to the time when they were young lovers, fumbling eagerly at each other’s bodies, eager and willing to test the limits. Valeria twisted out of Gabriel’s grip and pushed him onto his back. Confusion flickered in his dark eyes, but he did not fight her when she laced her fingers in his and brought his hand above his head, pinning it against the cushions.

  She wanted control of the situation.

  A flicker of dread clutched at her. Gabriel would never allow it. As gentle as he was, he was naturally dominant in bed. He had rarely... No, he had never ceded control to her in their bed, not even when they had been young and careless lovers.

  Hesitation flashed across his handsome face, and to her surprise, he relaxed into the chaise lounge.

  Valeria blinked. Anticipation shuddered down her spine. Gabriel must have known, without words, what she needed, and he let her take it. She inched down along the length of his body. Skin glided against skin, the friction setting off delicious tingles through her body. He was already hard and ready for her when she wrapped her warm mouth around his arousal.

  He swore, low and harsh. His fingers clutched at her shoulders, holding her in place. He was instinctively fighting for control, but she refused to give it back to him. She teased him with her mouth and tongue, alternating light flickers of motion with long strokes.

  The harsh breaths torn from Gabriel’s lips cemented her victory. She could make him burn for her as much as she burned for him. She swept her hair aside and glanced at him. His eyes were closed, and he gripped her shoulder with one hand. His other hand fisted against the cushions. He looked like he was in pain...the kind of pain that came from being driven against the edge of ecstasy, from being ground up against the precipice of an impending climax.

  She pulled her mouth away from him, shifted against him to straddle him, and sank down on him. He filled her in the way he had always done, in a way that left nothing wanting, nothing except the love that elevated passion into transcendence.

  He didn’t love her.

  Bitterness coiled into a tight knot in her stomach as she rode him to a mind-blowing, screaming finish. She could feel him tense. In that instant before his eyes closed, in that instant before he plunged over the edge with her, she saw something in his eyes, something that colored her bitterness with confusion.

  It looked like desire.

  It looked like love.

  With a low cry, he came in her. She shuddered, too, as her body clenched around his. Ecstasy tore through her, the heightened sensations fueled by the knowledge that she had taken her husband and driven him to climax.

  “I love you,” he whispered.

  Her body relaxed against his and prepared to sink into a post-sex cuddle—the very best kind of cuddle. Her mind, wrung by emotion, responded with words that came from her heart, words she scarcely heard. Her brain spun, dazed by the sudden change in their relationship. He had let her take control. He had allowed change to happen. If Gabriel could change, what did it mean for their future as a couple? What did it mean for their apparently doomed marriage?

  Beneath her, he stiffened. He sat up and stared at her as if looking at a stranger.

  Pain ripped across his chiseled features. The devastation in his eyes—

  Valeria gaped. What happened? Hadn’t she said, “I love you?”

  Gabriel drew his breath, a jagged sound edged with tears, that broke apart the intimate silence between them. He squeezed his eyes shut, and when he reopened them, he was once again the cool, distant professional—the flawless provider for his family’s physical needs, the failed provider of all their emotional needs.

  He rose from the chaise lounge, picked up his clothes, and walked away, leaving Valeria staring after him in stunned silence.

  ~*~

  The quiet of Gabriel’s study had always been a sanctuary, but in that moment, it was a prison—the only room in the house that was his own, the only place he could retreat to lick his wounds.

  Making love to Valeria had stunned him. She had taken charge and insisted on control of the situation. She had come alive, vividly, vibrantly alive. She had stunned him with her ability to drive him nearly out of his mind with her teasing touches and her wicked tongue. She had wowed him with reminders of the dazzling, passionate woman he had fallen in love with.

  “I love you,” he had whispered, blown away by her beauty of her flushed face, of her graceful body—the body he loved made even lovelier by stretch marks, the evidence of motherhood, and the two beautiful children she had given him.

  And in an instant, she had crushed him with six words. “I hate that I love you.”

  She still didn’t want this relationship, their marriage. Everything he had done in the past week had not been enough to convince her.

  He should have known better. She had not yet come back to him with suggestions for their family vacation. Was divorce still on her mind even though she had said nothing about it since their lunchtime conversation a week earlier?

  He had to fix it somehow. More lunch dates. More dinners with the family. He could work through the night and into the early morning hours when Valeria and the children were asleep if it meant more time with them on the weekends.

  The headache he hadn’t noticed when he had made love to Valeria pounded through his skull. With a grimace, he reached for the bottle of Tylenol on his desk and washed down the pills with coffee.

  Outside, the sound of Valeria humming a tune as she cleaned up the kitchen drifted back to him through the study door he had left slightly ajar. Pain clawed through him. She had ripped him apart with her words, and she didn’t give a damn.

  He stared in helpless frustration at his desk, piled high with all the work he still had to do to keep
his job, to keep paying for the life he and Valeria had built together. Focus. He had to prioritize. He flipped open his computer notebook and reached for his legal files. As he worked through his clients’ divorces, he could not shake off the terror of helplessly watching his own marriage fail.

  Valeria had been the only woman he had loved since high school, but he was no longer certain she wasn’t a stranger. He knew that he couldn’t afford to lose her, but he didn’t know how to keep her.

  ~*~

  Valeria desperately needed to hold on to the pretense of normality, but singing was out of the question. If she tried, she knew her voice would break. Instead, she hummed. She had to do something, anything to keep up the façade. She could not let Gabriel know what he had done to her.

  After the most amazing sex—when he had allowed her to control every element of it and allowed her to feel like a woman in charge of her own life—he had shattered her by walking away immediately after. He had looked at her as if she had done something that had destroyed him.

  She shuddered and prayed no one would ever look at her that way again.

  He had said that he loved her.

  His actions screamed otherwise.

  A single tear trickled down her cheek to splash into the sudsy water that filled the kitchen sink. She heard a door click. Gabriel had closed his study door, locking her out.

  She stopped humming then. There was no need to pretend anymore.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Gabriel stood and shoved his computer notebook and a half-dozen legal files into his bag. A quick glance at the clock confirmed that he was running late. He stifled the sigh even though he was, by then, convinced that the universe was conspiring to keep him from leaving work before 6 p.m.

  For an entire week since his shattering sexual encounter with Valeria, he had tried to leave work in time for dinner with the family. He had only managed two days out of five. The other nights, he had been obliged to attend dinners with clients or lead team meetings that ran late in advance of a court trial the next day. The weekend had been slightly better. Valeria appeared content to entrust the children to him. She, however, had kept her distance. When they were together, the children were with them, giving them no opportunity to talk. The rest of the time, she had so blatantly avoided him that he lost all desire to close the physical and emotional gap. After hours and days of enduring the chill of their failing relationship, his only instinct was to retreat to buy himself a few precious hours to regroup.