“Oh Nadine,” her aunt had said, despairingly. “Of course you would. You deserve all the love in the world, you always have. I just want you to be happy.”
“So does he,” Nadine had responded, in her stubborn, quiet way.
And when the two of them had come back into the kitchen, Nadine flushed, Nikki tight-lipped, she had gone right to him and wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing against him until her cheek was flush with his throat. “You were listening to all of that, weren’t you?”
“Every word,” he’d responded, in a low undertone, while her aunt scowled at them both.
She did still speak to his wife and wanted to see her baby niece, once removed, but she was happiest when he wasn’t in the picture. Cal figured he couldn’t blame her. There was no way to apologize for what his family had done without putting them all under suspicion, and he had resigned himself to bearing the burden of that guilt, along with his aunt-in-law’s perpetual distrust.
It was a fair price to pay for happiness.
Nadine was circling around the room in a viridian dress that hugged her body, the velvet shifting with the light like moss onwet river stones. He liked watching her, particularly when she didn’t see him doing the watching. It was an old habit, one he had yet to break.
“Is that your wife?” Jack Stafford had followed his gaze, the question asked lightly enough, but with a thread of masculine warning behind it Cal found amusing. Greater men than Jack had attempted, and failed, to keep him from what was his.
“Yes,” he said pleasantly, without turning his head. She had noticed him on one of her circuits, tossing her heavy fall of hair over one shoulder in a way that was deliberately provocative. Daring him. “Nadine Cullraven.”
“We just finished chatting—lovely woman.” There was a hesitation before his boss said, carefully, “I didn’t realize you were married.”
“It was a whirlwind courtship. I’m afraid I wanted that loveliness all to myself.” She smiled at her conversation partner, one arm wrapped shyly around her middle. She hadn’t yet lost her pregnancy weight and seeing her like this, rounded and glowing, made a fierce, possessive urge rise up in him. “We have a child, but she’s been growing restless. I’ve been encouraging her to apply here, as a paralegal. She’s currently pursuing her certification.”
“Very commendable,” Jack said. “I’ve always considered us a family firm.”
Cal nodded, as if he agreed. But their firm, no matter how small, was the furthest thing he could imagine from family. This sterile office, which still smelled of the lemon cleaners it had been scrubbed down with this morning, would quail at the first drop of blood.
“Are you enjoying the holiday party?” Jack asked, as if in an attempt to smooth over his earlier gaffe. “This is the first one you’ve come to since you’ve joined us, I believe.”
“It is, and I am,” Cal said, tilting his glass of rum upwards. These snifters were plastic and imparted a vaguely diesel taste to the bottom-shelf liquor. “You’ve outdone yourself,” he said politely.
“Just watch out for the mistletoe. I should probably get someone to take it down,” he added, with a laugh. “Wouldn’t want a lawsuit on our hands.”
Cal smiled. Jack gave him a nod and circled away, leaving him to sip his wine and watch the room, clocking the offending mistletoe someone with a desire for conflict had left over the doors to the kitchen. With a room full of lawyers and their ilk, it seemed unlikely that anyone would fall for a trap so bold, but Cal had seen a few of his colleagues smirking at it.
Some came up to talk to him, making the obvious jokes, and departed much more swiftly than his boss did, until the party had come full circle, and he had worked his way back to his wife, who had noticed his approach and gone preternaturally still as he cornered her underneath the hanging branch, slowing down to appreciate the sight of her in holiday finery.
“They’re going to think you’re afraid of me,” he teased.
“You say, like you don’t do exactly that on purpose.” Nadine folded her arms, a gesture that had begun to put him through his paces during her second trimester whenever she wore a low-cut dress. “Was that your boss? I didn’t realize until he came over to say hello.”
“One of them, yes. You seem to have made an impression on him. He was ready to leap at the chance to defend your honor.”
“I honestly doubt that.” She flushed, tugging at her skirt in abashment. “You’re so in control all the time, it’s hard to imagine you reporting to anyone.”
This pleased him. “And do you like that? Having me in control?”
“Cal.” Her cheeks darkened when he took her hand and brought it to his mouth. He pressed his tongue to her skin, watching her gasp at the clip of teeth.
“It’s very pagan,” he said, releasing her. “Norse fertility rites at Christmastime. They used to be considered rather base, for the servants only.”
“I doubt that would have stopped you,” she said primly.
“I like your dress, by the way.” Grinning, he tilted his head, “Did my sister buy it?”
“No,” she said hotly. “I picked it out myself.”
“Then her taste is rubbing off on you.” He put her hands around his neck and stepped close, making the gesture deliberately indecent. “It isn’t the only thing.”
“Cal,” she said, scandalized.
