Dangerously in Love (5 page)

Hill awoke to the aroma of coffee. His automatic coffeemaker was set to brew at five-thirty. He sat up, swinging his legs to the side of the couch and knocking the covers to the floor in the process. He stretched and yawned then mindlessly walked into the bathroom. When he came out, he remembered he had company. He stood in the doorway of his bedroom, staring at her sleeping soundly in his bed. Faint snores—more like deep breathing— from the room. He smiled and went into the kitchen to pour himself a cup of coffee.

He scrolled through his task list on his phone. He had to be at the Marriott Courtyard this morning, and then he’d meet Ty and Gabe at the Church property. He checked on his guest, who was still asleep, and hopped into the shower.  He wondered about Caitlin and what her story was. She had seemed so distraught last night. Nightmares were pretty freaky, he understood that. But her reaction was a little deeper than just a bad dream. She seemed genuinely frightened of something. The way she slept so soundly in a stranger’s bed, she probably hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in a long time.

He stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist. He brushed his teeth, shaved, splashed on a little aftershave then walked into the living room. It was six-thirty. He had plenty of time before he had to leave. Once again, he checked on Caitlin. He leaned against the open door with the towel around his waist, a cup of coffee in one hand, and his phone in the other, smiling as he watched her sleep.

His phone vibrated, and he looked at the screen. It was just a pop-up reminder that he was having drinks with Samantha and Perry—their usual routine. But because Samantha was now engaged, Hill scrolled down to the ‘delete all’ option and considered pressing it. But what about Perry? Maybe they could meet separately for drinks. That way, he wouldn’t have to endure Samantha and that atrocious ring on her finger. He decided to press delete. He no longer needed the reminders to meet for drinks or lunch or whatever. That was, sadly, a part of his past. When he looked up, he saw Caitlin staring back at him. He smiled.

“Well, well, well . . . look who’s joined the land of the living.” Hill grinned.

She stretched and sat up, fingering her hair away from her face. “Wow. I
slept
. I haven’t slept like that in a very long time.”

“It’s the bed,” he said with a big grin.

“What time is it?”

“Six thirty-five.”

She popped up out of bed, both happy and disappointed to discover herself fully dressed. She looked up at him and said, “Thank you.”

“Stop thanking me. I’m not that kindhearted. I have definite ulterior motives,” he joked. But before he could continue, she had wrapped her arms around him and kissed his cheek. He almost spilled his coffee when he tried to return the hug.

“I have a few projects this morning, then I’ll be at your place this afternoon, but you can stay here as long as you’d like. The bottom lock on the door automatically locks when you leave, and the gate auto-opens when you exit. There isn’t much food here, but you could probably rustle up some breakfast with what’s in there,” he said as he slipped on his shirt.

She nodded and walked away to give him some privacy. When he was fully dressed, he emerged from the bedroom to find Caitlin gone.

As Caitlin banked around the corner into the winding driveway, she saw Adam’s Audi TT parked in the circular driveway. She slowed to a crawl as she dug her cell phone out of her purse. Her heart pounded in her throat. When had he gotten home? It couldn’t have been long. Why hadn’t Rosemary warned her? She opened her Google Voice app and texted “911” to Amelia. There wasn’t much time for her to explain since she feared Adam was watching as she parked behind his car.

She walked through the cavernous hallway into the brightly lit space just beyond the foyer. She heard Adam’s voice, and then Rosemary’s. Caitlin knew he was interrogating Rosemary, questioning her whereabouts. She turned the corner and quickly ascended the spiral staircase, which led to an even wider and longer hallway where Adam’s voice bellowed. A wave of nausea rose within her as she thought about facing him. She swallowed hard, taking a deep breath as she slowed her pace. Adam’s voice echoed into the hallway, bouncing off the walls.

“Who gave you the authority to fire her?”

“You did, Mister.”

“I did? When did—”

“When you put me in charge of the housekeepers. She was no good at her job. So I let her go.”

“And these are her things?”

“Yes, Mister. I was sending Javier to deliver them to her.”

“Give me the box,” he said calmly. “I’ll deliver it to her.” He walked away, and Caitlin’s stomach churned as his footsteps came closer. But he stopped suddenly. “Where’s my wife?”

“I think—”

“I’m not interested in what you
think.
Do you
know
where she is?”

Caitlin didn’t like Adam’s menacing tone. She looked to her left then to her right. She wouldn’t make it back downstairs before Adam reached the hallway. She couldn’t walk past the room without being seen. If she entered the room now, he’d suspect she heard his conversation with Rosemary. But that didn’t really matter to her. What
did
matter was that he had seemed more concerned about Mindy’s whereabouts than hers.

She continued toward the room just as Adam entered the hallway. Caitlin managed to muster a convincing smile.

“Hi, baby,” she said, noticing the box he carried. “When did you get home?”

“Where have you been?”

She kissed his lips briefly. “I went to Amelia’s. After I called you last night, I still couldn’t sleep. So I slept at Amelia’s.” She caressed his arm with her right hand. “You’re home earlier than you said. Did everything go okay?”

“Yeah, I have to fly out this afternoon. Nevada this time.”

“But you just got home.” Caitlin feigned disappointment.

“I’ll be back in tomorrow. You can check with Tiffany for my itinerary.”

“I’m going to make breakfast,” Rosemary said as she walked by.

“What’s in the box?”

“Nothing to concern yourself with. I’ll meet you downstairs.” He kissed her forehead and continued down the hallway with the box cradled in his arm.

***

As Hill sipped his coffee and read the newspaper someone left behind, he saw Judge Sterling walk into the restaurant. He’d only noticed her when he had put the newspaper down to receive the food he’d ordered. She stood at the doorway waiting to be seated. What a sight for sore eyes. He hadn’t seen her since the disposition of
The State vs. Crawford,
three years ago.

He watched as the hostess escorted her to a table near the window on the opposite side of the restaurant. He could see her clearly but didn’t think he was in her view. He called the waitress to his table.

“That woman over there in the gray suit—add her bill to mine, please.”

“Certainly, sir.”

He ate his food, periodically picking up the newspaper to read and peering at the judge. He wanted to go speak to her, but he feared she’d try to convince him to get back into the courtroom.

He’d gotten drawn into a news article about an investigation into a money laundering operation involving synagogues, churches, and local elected officials. He snickered when he recognized a few of the names. When he placed the newspaper on the table, he saw Judge Sterling standing in front of him, smiling as if she’d just seen a long lost friend.

“Hill Parker. You’re looking well,” she said, still smiling, her suit jacket draped over her arm. He’d never seen her without her judicial robe. She had long, athletic legs and a tiny waist. Her skirt and blouse were expensive, tailored.

“Your Honor,” he said, motioning for her to sit. She did. In the three years since he’d last seen her, nothing had changed. Even her hairstyle was the same except for a little graying at the temple, but it was slight . . . hardly noticeable.

“To what do I owe your generosity? Thank you for breakfast.”

He smiled, though briefly. For whatever reason, she’d always favored him. He took full advantage of it, too. He leaned forward a little, and she mirrored his action.

“It’s my pleasure, Your Honor.”

“So good to see that you’re well, Hill,” she said, noticing his stare. “Is there something you want to say to me?”

He looked down at his plate contemplatively then at her. He nodded. “You’ve always been partial toward me in the courtroom. Even when I was screwing up or when I was late, you always gave me a little more leeway than you’d give anybody else.”

She nodded. “Yes.”

“I’m ashamed to admit that I took full advantage of it.”

“I know.” She grinned.

“I was wondering, Your Honor . . . why? Why have you always been so favorable toward me? I didn’t deserve it.”

She looked away reflectively. “You remind me of my little brother. Even now, as I look at you, I’m reminded of him. He had leukemia. He always wanted to be a lawyer but didn’t live to see that to fruition.” She looked at her watch then pushed back from the table and stood.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Hill said, now standing as well.

She looked at him, placing her hands on his shoulders. “When I saw you in the courtroom, I saw Justin . . . my brother. I saw him in your eyes, in your smile, and in all of your mannerisms, even the not-so-good ones,” she said, smiling. She clipped his chin like a mother does a child. “You’re a good guy, Hill. You just didn’t know it. Don’t be so hard on yourself.” She slipped her purse strap on her shoulder.

“Thank you, Judge Sterling. For . . . everything.”

“You’re welcome, Hill. I wish you all the best.” She smiled at him as she walked away.

Hill arrived home pretty late and saw Caitlin’s pearl Maserati parked in his space. He wondered how she got into the garage but then realized she must’ve taken his cardkey with her when she left this morning. He didn’t need it to get through the gate. He had a remote control in his truck.

Once parked, he walked to Caitlin’s car. The hood was somewhat cool, which meant she’d been there a little while. She must have noticed that she wouldn’t need a key to enter the warehouse through the mudroom, which was the only way she could’ve gotten inside. With all the security features he had installed before getting anywhere near the warehouse, Hill normally left the mudroom unlocked.

Inside the mudroom, he slipped out of his dirty work clothes and boots then walked into the kitchen to grab a beer. He peered into his living room, looking for Caitlin. Not there. He put his beer on the table and went to the bathroom. When he came out, he went into his bedroom. There she was, sprawled across his bed, sound asleep. He tiptoed into his walk-in closet, grabbed a change of clothes, and then hopped in the shower. When he came out, she was sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Hi honey, I’m home.” He grinned facetiously.

She laughed, jumped up, and hugged him. “You’re not mad, are you?”

He wrapped his arms around her and shook his head. “About which part? That you stole my cardkey or broke into my house?”

She smirked.

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

She nodded.

“Want to grab something to eat?”

“Can we order in instead? I’m afraid we’d run into someone who knows my husband.”

“In my neighborhood? I can’t imagine.”

“Really,” she said sharply.

“Okay,” he threw his hands up in surrender, “I’ll call for delivery.”

He sat on the arm of the couch, staring at her hungrily as he sipped a beer.

“You remind me so much of my uncle,” she said, cutting through the silence.

“Your uncle? I hope that’s a good thing and not as sleazy and icky as it sounds.”

“He was the father figure in my life. My mother never married. Anyway, you remind me of him.”

“You said ‘was’. Is he—?”

“He died. Three years ago.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. It must have been a terrible loss seeing as he was a father figure.”

She shrugged and looked away, not sure she wanted to respond.

Hill stared at the window—not even looking through it, just gazing at it pensively.

“So what’s the deal with you and Adam? When I see you standing in that window, you never look happy. But I guess it really isn’t any of my business.”

“No, it’s not,” she said with a grin.

“I’m just making conversation. We could talk about the weather or something.”

She looked away again. “It’s okay. I don’t mind talking about it. What do you want to know?”

“You married for love, but he treats you like some sort of trophy. Is that your story, Cate? Or, were you marrying for money?” He smirked. “What’s your story?” He sipped his beer.

“My story?” she dropped her gaze. “Growing up, I never really knew what it felt like to be loved.”

She stared ahead, reflectively. She hadn’t any idea of what love was—how it looked or smelled, what it sounded or tasted like. Was it something that sashayed into your life, or was it a more subtle entrance? Was it a scent that wafted aggressively, or did it float on the molecules of air that she breathed? Was it gentle, or would it take her by storm?

She continued, “What I do know, however—what I can describe in graphic detail—is what it feels like to be alone.”

Having grown up in a hard-fisted, emotionally void patriarchal family with her grandfather at the helm and her mother in fear, she knew the loathsome glare of rejection and the prickly touch of loneliness. She knew the coldness of aloofness. Those things she knew. Those things she could identify.

She went on, “But love? That’s a mystery to me.” She looked at Hill who just sat there dumbstruck, sipping his beer.

She continued. “I lost my virginity at seven because my uncle paid attention to me in a way I’d never experienced. He told me I was special. Nobody had ever told me that before. He said I was beautiful. Never heard that before, either. He gave me candy, he said, because I was sweet. All he wanted in return was to touch me. I’d never been touched like that before. So between the ages of seven and fifteen, my mother’s brother molested me—right in my own house. From then on, I thought that any man who wanted to touch me like that loved me. That was the warped mind of someone who’d never known what love really was.”

She watched Hill lean back a little. She went on, “As I grew older, I realized there was an imbalance in my life—something off-kilter. It kept me tilted slightly in the wrong direction. It shifted my life’s trajectory.

“When I met Adam, he was sort of like my uncle—charming and sweet with his words. Slick with his touch. I bought it all—hook, line, and sinker. So I guess my answer to your question is, I married what was familiar. I’m not sure love had anything to do with it.”

Hill hadn’t anticipated such openness, especially as a response to a question he’d hardly expected an honest answer to. He was making conversation as he always had—his foreplay to his foreplay . . . the preface to the prequel. This was something new. No one had opened up to him like this. Not even Samantha.

Now he was afraid to touch her—not for lack of wanting, but for compassion. He wanted to hug her, hold her, and comfort her. But he felt like a bull in a china shop—like his slightest move would bring all the fragile dishes to a shattering end.

He watched her fidget with her wedding ring and noticed how she avoided looking at him as she spoke. What was he supposed to say? How was he supposed to respond? He had no idea.

He got up and stood by the window, staring at the passing train through the pouring rain. After a long silence, he turned to look at her, making sure she was okay. She sighed loudly.

“I don’t know why I said so much,” she said. “Maybe it’s because you remind me of them. Mostly, my uncle.”

I remind you of a child molester?” Her words stung. He’d been called a lot of things and compared to many people. But never had he been relegated to a class of degenerates like incestuous molesters.

“You remind me of how disarming he was.”

He stared toward the window, shaking his head.

“I didn’t mean it in an offensive way,” she said apologetically.

“Is there any other way to take it other than offensively?” he scowled as he returned to the arm of the couch.

“I just meant that he had a way of making me feel safe. You make me feel safe, Hill.”

“But your uncle’s sense of safety was a lure to harm you, Cate. I don’t want to harm you. I have no intentions of hurting you. I’m not like him at all.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I should have simply said that I feel safe with you—because I do,” she said softly as she watched him guzzle the rest of his beer.

Their food arrived, and they spent the rest of the evening in near silence, with the exception of a few courtesies—like
pass the kung pao, please
and
thank you
—not much else was said.

She got up and went to the bathroom, and he put on a movie,
A Perfect Murder
starring Michael Douglas and Gwyneth Paltrow. He collected the beer bottles and the cartons of Chinese food and took them into the kitchen, discarding the bottles and stowing the leftover food in the refrigerator.

When he returned to the den, Caitlin was lying on the sofa in a camisole and silk shorts. He stood there staring at her until she caught him.

“I hope you don’t mind,” she said. “I wanted to get comfortable.”

He rubbed his head with his hand and took a deep breath. He wasn’t sure if she was trying to seduce him, or if she was genuinely just getting comfy. He sat in a chair that was angled away from the sofa and turned up the movie.

“This is one of my favorite movies!” she exclaimed. “My favorite part is when he sees her walking down the street, and he steps out of the car. She’s totally shocked to see him and he says. . .”

“That doesn’t look like happiness to see me,” Hill said, quoting the movie.

“Try surprise,” Caitlin said, quoting the response. She laughed. “I love that part. Great movie. What’s your favorite?”

“I’d have to say
Absolute Power
with Clint Eastwood. Actually, any movie with Clint Eastwood is among my favorites.”

“
Absolute Power
. . . hmm. Is that what you want, Hill? Absolute power?”

“No more than you’d want a perfect murder,” he smirked.

Caitlin patted the sofa, motioning for him to sit beside her. He shook his head and turned his attention back to the movie.

“I don’t bite. I just want to sit beside you,” she said.

This woman had no idea the tremendous amount of restraint and control it took for him to not do naughty things to her. And naughty wasn’t exactly the right word—more like dirty, kinky. Still, he was trying like hell to be respectful.

He sat beside her, and she cuddled next to him. But not too long before the movie had ended, she’d fallen asleep. He realized then that she just needed the comfort of a warm body to help her relax—to help her sleep.

He picked her up, sliding one arm under her knees and using the other to support her back, and headed toward the bedroom.

“Wait,” she whispered, awakened by the motion. “Let’s stay in here, on the sofa.”

“Let’s? As in you
and
me?”

She nodded as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

He lay her on the sofa and squeezed behind her. She turned over with her face against his chest, their bodies pressed tightly together. They didn’t make love. They didn’t say a word. They just held each other until the aroma of coffee awakened Hill at five-thirty.

He had never slept with anybody like Caitlin before—beautiful, desirable, sexy—and not tried to make a move at some point. It had
never
happened before. Until now. A few times he had awakened in the middle of the night and curled around her. She’d take his arm and wrap it around her, holding his hand to her heart. It felt good . . . she felt good.