To Love, Honor and Defend

“Name one.” He dropped his boot to the floor and stood. Moving to the gurgling coffeemaker, Cal poured himself a cup then leveled a challenging gaze on her as he sipped.

“It’s just…wrong. It’s—”

“Why?” He stepped closer to her, and her pulse scrambled. “Why is it so wrong?”

Angling her head to meet his gaze, she noticed the thin, pale scar on his square chin, nearly hidden in his bristly black stubble. She remembered that scar, remembered tracing it with her tongue in the heat of lovemaking. Catching her breath, she averted her eyes, struggled to calm her runaway heartbeat. “Because I…I—”

She couldn’t think straight with all his raw male sensuality towering over her and the pine scent of his cologne teasing her senses. Rather than let him corner her, either with his body or his arguments, Libby ducked away, rubbing her arms.

“Are you sure you’re all right? You were pretty shaken up earlier, and you still seem…edgy.”

The concern in his tone unnerved her as much as the lingering thoughts of the man on the stairs. “I’m fine. Really.”

She didn’t want to discuss her stalker with Cal. That was her problem. She’d deal with it in her own way.

As she crossed the room, she turned the tables, wanting, needing to stay in control of this discussion. “Why marry me? Surely you have plenty of other women you could choose from.”

“No one else has your power and prestige in court,” he said. “Which I’ll need to counter my prison record. And no one else owes me like you do.”

Her spine stiffened. “I owe you nothing! Get that through your thick skull.”

His smoldering stare closed the distance between them. Pitching his voice low, he said, “No one else got under my skin the way you did. We were good together, Lib. You know that. Not even prison could make me forget the way we burned up the sheets.”

His husky tone slid over her like a lover’s callused hand, rough yet gentle. Her skin tingled in response. Grasping for control, she swallowed the hitch in her breath and crossed her arms over her sensitized breasts so he wouldn’t see how his words had affected her.

Her traitorous body’s reaction to him was just one more reason why she couldn’t afford to let him back in her life. Sure the sex had been good. Mind-blowing even. But the last thing she needed was another broken heart thanks to Cal Walters.

“You’re crazier than I thought if you believe for a second that I’d ever sleep with you again.”

He arched a dark eyebrow. “You sure about that? Your eyes are telling me you remember just how good it was between us. I’ll bet that chemistry is still there.”

He gave her an impudent grin, and she gritted her teeth.

“That’s not lust, hotshot. It’s shock. I can’t believe you have the gall to ask anything of me considering our past.” Drawing on her practiced courtroom control, she marched across the kitchen to him, her shoulders back. “We had great chemistry in bed. I’ll give you that. But sex wasn’t enough to save our relationship when you found out Renee was pregnant. You stood right here in my kitchen and told me it was over without so much as blinking. ‘See ya later, Libby. It’s been real. Gotta go marry someone else now.’” She gave a jerky wave, her hurt and anger coiled inside her, ready to spring.

A muscle in Cal’s jaw twitched. “It didn’t happen like that. You make it sound like I cheated on you. I never—”

Libby lifted a palm to stop him. “I know you were faithful, that it was over with Renee long before you met me. I’ve never questioned that. But one day everything was great, and the next you came by for five minutes to pick up your things and break my heart. Just boom, you’re gone.”

“Maybe I was a little quick in leaving, but I’m not good at goodbyes. I don’t do big, emotional scenes. I honestly thought a clean break would be easier for both of us.”

She flicked a hand and shook her head. “Whatever. It’s over. Just forget it.” Calming herself with a deep breath, she added, “Regardless of how you remember our breakup, the point is, we’re history. You’ve got a lot of nerve coming to me, using our past as leverage to make demands and accusations. Get this much straight—I had nothing to do with the prosecution of your case. Zilch.”

“Right.” His features hardened, and the blaze in his eyes now had nothing to do with desire. “You just came to my sentencing to gloat, I suppose? I saw you conferring with the lead prosecutor.”

“I came to your sentencing. But not to gloat.” That he’d believe such a petty thing of her hurt. More than she cared to admit. His opinion shouldn’t matter anymore. “And if I did talk with Stan, it was something personal, like, ‘Where are you going for lunch?’ Not anything about your case. Like I said, there are ethical canons that prevent—”

“Then why couldn’t you look me in the eye? You knew I was getting railroaded, didn’t you? I had six witnesses who said I was justified in defending that woman’s life!”

“Defending her, yes. But the prosecution found just as many people who said that even after the threat had been contained, you kept hitting the guy. Your excessive force landed you in jail. Not me.”

He’d made his bed, and he’d had to sleep in it.

Heat flashed over her skin. Bad analogy. Best not to think of Cal and bed in the same breath.

“Why don’t you own up to your actions instead of pointing the blame at everyone else?”

He stiffened, and a muscle in his jaw ticked. “I owned up to my actions when I married Renee, didn’t I? I wanted my daughter to have my name, to have a father.”

“I understood the choice you made and why. It was the way you handled things between us that I have a problem with.” Like the way your leaving ripped my heart out.

When Jewel mewled at her from the floor, Libby picked up her cat and cradled her, seeking solace in Jewel’s gently rumbling purr.

More composed, she regarded Cal with as much dispassion as she could muster. “I’ve put you in the past and moved on. I suggest you do the same.”

He narrowed his gaze on her and raised a black eyebrow. His piercing eyes stirred a quiver in her belly, and she hugged Jewel tighter.

Oh God, he always could see through her bravado. That was why she’d avoided looking at him at his sentencing. She couldn’t let him see how much his ordeal hurt her, how frightened she was for him.

Obviously she needn’t have been scared. He had an uncanny way of scraping past danger and landing on his feet. Like a cat with about nine hundred lives. She and her staid, black-and-white life were better off without him.

“Believe me, Lib, I’ve tried to move on. Unfortunately, you’re kinda hard to forget.”

“That’s your problem. Not mine.”

As she turned away, he caught her shoulders in a firm grip and stared into her eyes with his laser gaze. “No, Lib, my problem is, my daughter is living in a cesspool of an apartment with a mother who’s turned to arm candy for recreation and deadbeat scum for company. I want Ally out of there. Permanently. And you’re gonna help me get her.”

Libby stroked the cat’s head, thankful she had something to do with her restless hands. “And if I don’t?”

Cal angled his chin, assessing her. “You may hate me, but I know you’d never refuse to help a four-year-old girl. Ally needs you. She needs us to get her into a safe home. Thanks to my criminal record, the only way the court will give me custody is if I can prove I’ll provide her with the stability, safety and love she’s not getting now. The love part I’ve got covered.” Cal paused and rubbed the scar on his chin with his thumb, his jaw tight and his shrewd eyes gauging her reaction. When she continued to stare at him without speaking, he added, “I just need your cooperation, as my wife, for a couple years. Just until all the legal matters are settled and I have Ally free and clear. Then, if it’s what you want—” he pressed his lips in a frown and sighed “—I’ll let you walk away. No strings. Please, Libby, Ally is my heart, my everything. I’ll do whatever it takes to protect her.”

“Even marry a woman you don’t love? Oh, wait…” She raised a finger as if struck by inspiration. “You already did.”

Cal’s jaw tensed even further, and his glare narrowed. “You know what it’s like to live with an addicted mother.”

Her lungs seized, and her grip on Jewel tightened.

“How dare you use my past against me,” she whispered.

“You know how it feels to be—”

“Stop! I don’t want to talk about my mother. When I told you about her, I warned you not to mention her or my past ever again.” Her voice cracked, and she spun away from him.

Why had she trusted him with even a glimpse of her painful childhood? Just another mistake she’d made with Cal, another example of how she’d given too much of herself away. But never again.

Jewel squirmed and jumped down from her arms.

Libby fought to plug the wellspring of painful memories Cal had tapped. Control.