To Love, Honor and Defend

Oh, yes, he remembered her stubborn pride. A steel will ran through her, equal to her passion. And her compassion.

He needed to reach her tender heart and her inordinate sense of responsibility today. She was his last hope, his only hope. Besides, she owed him.

Slowly he pulled his hand away, keeping a wary eye on her.

“How dare you scare me like that! What were you thinking? You deserve a face full of pepper spray for that stunt! Of all the—”

She swung at him.

But twenty-four months in prison had sharpened his reflexes, taught him to be quick on his feet and have eyes in the back of his head. He easily blocked her fist and pinned her wrist to the car. “Whoa! Settle down. What stunt are you talking about?”

She rolled her eyes then turned an icy glare on him. “On the stairs? The ‘I’m gonna get you, bitch’ crack? Following me, hiding from me, purposely freaking me out?”

The stairs? He thought about the terror that had filled her face when she’d burst through the garage door and run for her car. Unease jerked a knot in his gut. He cut a sharp glance to the stairs then back to Libby. “Someone followed you on the stairs? Did they hurt you?”

What had she said about a comment using the term bitch? His disquiet ratcheted up a notch.

She yanked her arm from his grip and righted her silk blouse. The soft fabric clung to her curves and made no secret of the feminine body beneath. “You’re not funny. What were you trying to prove?”

“It wasn’t me.”

“Yeah, right.” As she moved to climb into her Camry, he grabbed her arm and brought her dark eyes back to his. She pressed her lips in a thin line of irritation.

“I’ve been over there in my truck waiting for you for over an hour.” With a hitch of his head, he directed her gaze to his dilapidated Chevy.

Suspicion narrowed her eyes but soon gave way to the pale, shaken look she’d worn when he’d first approached her. “You weren’t just on the stairs? You swear?”

He snorted. “Not that my word has ever carried any weight with you, but…yeah, I swear.” He felt the shudder that raced through her, and his chest tightened. Releasing her arm, he cast another look toward the stairwell door. “Want me to go check it out? See if anybody’s in there?”

Stiffly she shook her head and sank onto the front seat. “I’m sure whoever was there is long gone now.”

Her cheeks had regained most of their color. She pulled her lips into a pinched frown and raised her chin. “If I find out you’re lying, I won’t hesitate to have you hauled in for harassing an officer of the court.”

Clenching his teeth, he fought down the rise of bile that rose in his throat. The last thing he needed was to give his parole officer an excuse to send him back to prison. “I thought you’d already done that. Isn’t that what the last two years of my life have been about? Your revenge for my leaving you to marry Renee?”

Her eyes flickered with shock, and her lips parted in protest. “I didn’t—”

“Trust me, marriage to Renee was a punishment in itself. Ally’s the only good thing to come from that mistake.”

Libby’s expression softened a degree at the mention of Ally. Maybe his mission wasn’t a lost cause.

As quickly as the tenderness appeared, it dissipated, replaced with hard-edged anger. “Your prison time had nothing to do with us and everything to do with the fact that you attacked a man!”

“My actions were justified! Was I supposed to stand back and let him beat the hell out of that woman?”

Libby threw her hands up and shook her head.

She jabbed a well-manicured finger in his chest and drilled him with a stony glare. He remembered that stare from the courtroom two years ago. Cold. Flat. Void of emotion. “Save it. It’s over, and I won’t debate this with you.”

She tried to close her door, and he blocked it. “Hang on. There’s something else we need to discuss.”

With a trace of suspicion still coloring her expression, she tipped her head. “What?”

Cal straightened and met her eyes. This was it. Everything he cared about rode on convincing Libby to go along with his plan. Drawing a deep breath, he plunged in. “I need your help.”

She scoffed. “My help? Why?”

He crouched down to her eye level. When he braced a hand on the headrest by her cheek and leaned toward her, she stiffened. He moved close enough to smell the subtle musk scent of her perfume, close enough to feel her breath on his face, close enough to hear the sexy catch in her breath. His own pulse scrambled from the proximity.

Damn! She still affected him. Mesmerized him. Tortured him.

“Because the way I see it, you owe me.”

She frowned and rolled her shoulders, clearly struggling to keep her cool. “I don’t owe you squat, Walters.”

He tensed as if she’d kicked him in the teeth. He’d expected this reaction from her, but that didn’t make it easier to take. Curling his fingers into fists, he plowed on, struggling to rein in his temper. It wouldn’t serve his cause to blow up at her now, put her on the defensive.

“Look me in the eye and tell me you didn’t have anything to do with your office’s hardball negotiation on my plea agreement. Tell me that during my sentencing you didn’t once think about how I hurt you when I married Renee.”

Surprise flitted across her sculpted, heaven-sent face.

“Yeah,” he whispered. “I know I hurt you. And I’m sorry.”

She knitted her brow and turned away, but not before he glimpsed the pain in her eyes. Taking her chin in his hand, he angled her face toward him, felt her tremble.

The wall of her defenses came up in her eyes. The cold, blank prosecutor look returned. “What do you want, Cal?”

“I want my daughter. I want custody of Ally, but my prison record and my being a single father work against me.”

“You want me to take your case? Is that it? Sorry, I don’t do custody cases, but I’ll be happy to recommend someone—”

“I have a lawyer.”

She huffed. “Then why do you need me?”

“Respectability. Stability. Image.”

Her face darkened. “I don’t follow.”

But the wary glint in her gaze said she did understand. The fluttering pulse at her throat gave away her panic.

“Hear me out, Libby.” He ran his thumb along the line of her jaw, and heat flared in her eyes.

Good. He still affected her, too. He tugged his mouth sideways in a satisfied grin.

“You see, Renee’s got a bum for a boyfriend and a new drug habit. She’s neglecting Ally. I want to make a home for my daughter, a better one than the hellhole she lives in now. You can help give me that edge.”

She was already shaking her head. But he wouldn’t take no for an answer. Libby was his last chance.

“I want you to marry me, Lib. I need a wife.”

Chapter 2

“This is insane! You can’t be serious.” Libby paced across the black-and-white-tile floor of her kitchen and sent Cal a dubious look.

“I’m dead serious.” The penetrating blue of his returned gaze echoed his resolve. He’d sprawled casually in one of her antique ladder-back chairs, making himself at home. As if he thought he belonged in her kitchen. As if five years and so much painful history hadn’t come between them.

While they waited for the pot of coffee she’d started, he propped a booted foot on another chair and watched her pace. Jewel, her gray cat, rubbed against Cal’s leg, and he reached down to scratch her head while clucking his tongue. His calm repose stood in sharp contrast to the jitters dancing along Libby’s nerves.

If Cal’s crazy proposal weren’t enough, she still heard the hiss of her stalker’s voice echoing in her head. She shivered. Had Cal not been in the garage, would the creep have caught her? Killed her?

The sooner she dealt with Cal, the sooner she could get rid of him and report her stalker’s latest stunt to the police.

“I wouldn’t be here if I weren’t serious.”

When Cal spoke, she snapped her gaze to his.

Cal. In her kitchen again after all these years. And back in her life, if he had his way.

Seeing his long, muscular legs stretched out comfortably at her table filled Libby with a déjà vu that swirled like warm honey in her blood. The sight was so familiar. So inviting.

So…wrong.

She shook her head briskly, clearing it of cozy memories and renewing her protest. “No. There are so many reasons why it’s a bad idea, that—”

“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.

“Cal, we can’t even be in the same room for five minutes without arguing. What kind of home will that be for Ally?”

“A whole lot better than the one she’s in now. I didn’t say I had all the answers. It’ll take effort from both of us to make this thing work. But I’m willing to do whatever it takes, for Ally’s sake.”

Libby opened her mouth to tell him there were other solutions to his quandary that didn’t involve her and a marriage of convenience. Social workers, counseling for Renee, another candidate to be his temporary wife—anything!

She dusted cat hair off her work clothes and pushed aside the uneasy prickle at the thought of some other woman marrying Cal.

Whipping out his wallet, he flipped to a picture of a blue-eyed cherub with her daddy’s inky black hair.

A sharp pang pinched her heart.

Cal must have seen her weakening. He circled and moved in for the kill. “Can you tell her no? She’s an innocent in this whole mess. She deserves better than roaches in her bed at night and going to day care with no breakfast.”

Libby scowled and marched to the refrigerator, where she yanked out a quart of milk. “It couldn’t be as bad as that. Renee would never—”

“Renee doesn’t even know the day of the week most times. She and her live-in dirtwad are usually too stoned to take care of themselves, much less Ally!” He slapped his wallet shut and jammed it back in his pocket.

Setting the milk on the counter by the coffeepot, Libby straightened her back and lifted her chin. “There are laws to protect children in cases like this. Someone from Child Welfare should—”

“No! Not the courts. Ally doesn’t need bureaucracy or some government yahoo. I’m her father. I want her. She needs me!” He thrust his hands through his hair and growled his frustration. The muscle in his jaw jumped wildly as he ground his teeth.

The passion saturating his tone and the worry creasing his face reminded Libby of the man she’d grown close to, fallen in love with, five years ago. For all his machismo and toughness, his tender and compassionate side had touched her heart.

“When Renee and I divorced two years ago, I was awarded visitation rights. Every other weekend, Ally is supposed to be with me. While I was in prison, I obviously couldn’t take my weekends, and since my parole three weeks ago, I’ve only had one weekend with my daughter. But I saw enough that weekend to convince me Ally was in jeopardy. My lawyer filed the petition for custody Monday. I have to do this soon or I could lose my case.” He gave her a pointed look. “Again.”

She blinked back the sting of tears, the pain of all they’d lost and her own concern for his daughter. Pulling in a deep breath, she battled the turmoil rolling through her. Stay in control.

How could she do it? She had enough to worry about with a stalker following her. How could she tangle her life up with Cal’s again?

“So what’ll it be, Libby? Will you help us? I give you my word, you’ll be free to go, to file for divorce, once I know my rights to Ally are secure.”

A throwaway marriage. Just as their first relationship had been disposable to him. She rubbed a throbbing ache growing at her temple. “I don’t know, Cal. I need time to think.”

Why were personal decisions always so difficult? What if she made the wrong choice and screwed up her life or someone else’s? She thought she’d outgrown the nerve-racking responsibility of no-win choices that had been her mother’s legacy.

She needed black-and-white. Clear-cut answers and certainties. Someone she could count on. Especially now while this stalker was out there watching her. But nothing about Cal was black-and-white.

He spread his hands in supplication. “Ally and I need your help stacking the deck in our favor. I don’t want the court to have any reason to deny my motion for custody.”

Gray. That’s what Cal was. Or rather, he was passionate shades of red and green and gold. A confusing blur of color.

As if to punctuate this fact, his eyes turned the shade of a stormy azure sea, brimming with heartbreaking desperation. Desperation she’d seen too often in her mother’s eyes while growing up.

“Please?” The whispered plea, reverberating with a father’s love and a proud man’s struggle with humility, twisted inside her.

“I’ll think about it.”

But she knew she’d lost.

The man behind her quickened his pace. She heard his ragged breathing, smelled his fetid breath. She tried to run, but her mother held on to her feet, sobbing. “Help me, Libby. I don’t know what to do!”

“I’m going to get you, bitch,” her pursuer growled from inches behind her. But she couldn’t see him. It was dark. So dark.

His footsteps pounded on the stairs. Louder. Louder.

“Libby!”

She woke with a gasp and jackknifed up in her bed.

But the pounding continued. She swept a glance around her dim bedroom, orienting herself. Jewel slept draped over her legs, a feline deadweight. Seven-oh-three glowed from her bedside clock. She’d only been dreaming about her stalker, but the person beating on her front door was real.

“Come on, Lib! Open up!”

Cal. He may have stayed away yesterday, given her a little room to think, but danged if he wasn’t back, bright and early, barely thirty-six hours later—no doubt to demand an answer. Honestly, she was surprised he’d given her breathing room all of Friday rather than pressing her for a commitment last night.

Groaning, she scooted Jewel aside and dragged herself from her warm covers. She hurried to the door before Cal’s yelling woke the neighbors.

“Do you know what time it is?” she snapped, still edgy from her nightmare. She poked her arms in the robe she’d snatched from the foot of the bed and finger-combed her hair with jerky swipes.

He quirked an irreverent grin that shot a sizzle straight to her core. “And good morning to you, too, sunshine.”

Morning light cast his face in a golden glow, and his tight T-shirt delineated every muscle in his chest and arms. There should be a law against him looking so delicious at this hour. Grumbling, Libby rubbed her sleep-blurred eyes. “Geez, Walters! Roosters aren’t even up yet.”

She tried to slam the door on Cal, but he caught it with his boot toe. Tugging her robe closed at the throat, she frowned. “Go away! Saturdays are for sleep.”

“Not this Saturday. This is my weekend with Ally, and you and I are going to pick her up. So go get dressed and I’ll start some coffee.”

“Why?”

“Because you look like you could use a strong cup.”

She flashed him a dark scowl. “I mean, why am I going with you to get Ally?”

“Simple. I want you to see for yourself the conditions she lives in.”