Twist of Fate (39 page)

"Val..." Aching, he stepped forward and suddenly they were in each other's arms, united in grief. Deep down, he had a powerful belief that if he failed Daniel, he would be forever damned. If he couldn't save an innocent man, why was he even bothering to breathe? What had he ever done that was worthwhile?

Val's face turned up, a pale oval in the dim light. He kissed her with a blind, clawing need for oblivion. She responded in kind, her nails digging into his back. He was tempted to pull her down in the grass, but he managed to say, "Let's go upstairs."

She came wordlessly as they climbed the stairs, arms around each other's waists. Inside the apartment, he turned on the light in the small foyer so they wouldn't stumble over packed boxes on their way to the bedroom. Malcolm thumped his tail in greeting, but wisely kept out of their way.

Their separation had raised passion to unbearable levels, and when they reached the bed, they fell on each other like tigers, as if they were the ones on the verge of execution. For a few moments, at least, he found the exalted oblivion he sought in her familiar, beloved body.

All too soon they returned to earth, panting in each other's arms. When he could breathe again, he stroked the curls back from her damp forehead. "I'm sorry. I didn't intend for this to happen."

"I'm not sorry." Her lips curved wistfully. "But nothing has changed, has it?"

"Not really, except that I'm reminded how addictive you are." He cupped her lovely full breast, delighting in the intimacy of the moment. "Every time I'm with you, it gets harder to imagine life without you."

She placed his hand on her heart so he could feel its pounding under his palm. "You're still determined on marriage or nothing?"

He hesitated, knowing that all he had to do was say the word, and they would be together again. God, to be able to make love with her, talk with her, bounce ideas off her....The temptation was almost overpowering.

Almost. "I'm afraid so. I need to build something lasting, Valentine. I built a business once and discovered that wasn't enough. Like they say, no one ever wished on his deathbed that he'd spent more time at the office. I want to love and be loved, if that's possible. Have a normal, healthy family that isn't made up of alcoholics, abusers, and sociopaths. Have kids that I can raise better than I was raised."

Tenderly he kissed the taut flesh over her beating heart. "If I stay with you, I'll end up forgoing the dream for a reality that will be wonderful, but...not enough. And because it's not enough, someday it would end and then I'd have nothing. I've had way too much nothing in my life."

She sighed. "You think marriage is a guarantee that anything will last? No one is that naive."

"Of course there are no guarantees." He paused as he tried to define why he felt this so strongly. "But surely if two people are willing to make a commitment to stay together till death does them part, it's a big step in the right direction. Maybe exchanging vows gives more reason to work through the hard times." He smiled wryly. "I'm probably kidding myself, but it's not as if I have a lot of positive personal experience to draw on. I figure taking a traditionalist approach gives better odds than most."

"You may be right. I take commitments as seriously as you do, which is why the thought of marriage makes me skittish as a three-month-old kitten." She covered his hand with hers. "Don't rush out and fall in love with someone else, Rob. I'm working on my hang-ups."

"Since I've never fallen in love with anyone else, it's not likely to happen again anytime soon." Maybe never. It was impossible to imagine another woman who would suit his body and soul as well as Val did. "Does this mean you might change your mind?"

"It's too soon to know if I can give you what you want and deserve." She hesitated. "I need to figure out why the thought of marriage sends me straight up the wall. If there was any logic here, as soon as you proposed I should have shrieked 'Yes!' and grabbed you before you could get away."

"Love and marriage don't always have a lot to do with logic."

"Don't I know it!" She stretched, the faint light from the foyer silvering her lush curves. "I've spent half my life developing a keen, logical, legal mind. I need to chuck that and get back to primal emotion. There's bound to be some in here somewhere."

"The fact that you're looking at your reactions to marriage is the best news I've heard in a long, long time." He kissed her again, opening his mouth over hers as he slid his hand between her thighs. "Stay the night."

Mistake. She ended the kiss and swung her legs over the side of the bed. "I'd better not. I need to work on primal emotion, not primal lust, which is awesome but damned distracting."

He skimmed his hand down the silky skin of her bare back, feeling the delicate strength of her spine under his palm. "You're right, unfortunately."

"It's one of my most irritating qualities." She turned on the bedside light and began collecting her scattered garments. He started to get up, but she said, "Stay where you are. I can get out to my car safely without your escort. In the unlikely event anything happens, my car key includes a panic button just in case."

He was tired enough to let himself be persuaded. She finished dressing and kissed him goodnight, then turned to leave. In the door, she turned back to look at him. "Rob..."

"Yes?" He rolled to his side so he could admire her figure silhouetted against the light. It was women like her who made curves popular.

Malcolm waddled into the doorway and nuzzled her calf. She bent to scratch his neck. "Never mind. Sleep well."

Then she was gone. He wondered what she had been on the verge of saying, then smiled a little. As a lawyer, she had probably just wanted to get the last word.

Consigning the boxes in his pickup to the tender mercies of the night, he rolled over and buried his face in the pillow that still bore traces of Val's scent.

The bed shook as Malcolm leaped onto it--short legs but a lot of mass--so he draped his arm over the dog's barrel torso. Tonight he would sleep well.

Chapter 29

∗ ∗ ∗

Standing on a desk beside Callie's covered wall hanging, Val raised her hand and called for attention. Litigators developed powerful voices. "Good evening! Thanks to all of you for coming to help inaugurate my new offices. Enjoy the crab balls and smoked salmon, serene in the knowledge that they're all deductible."

As people laughed, she surveyed the crowd in the former church sanctuary. Though events had made her wish she had scheduled the open house for later in the year, now that the party had started she was having a fine time.

She had picked a Friday afternoon from 5 till 8 p.m. to catch the TGIF crowd. The turnout was impressive, aided by the publicity about Daniel's case. In the interests of safe driving, she wasn't serving anything stronger than wine and beer, but the munchies were first class. She tried not to think of how much this was all costing her.

After a few more comments, including thanks to her former colleagues at Crouse, Resnick, she said, "Now it's time for the grand unveiling. Behind this curtain is a really splendid artwork created by my mother, Callie Covington, one of the finest fabric artists in America. Callie, where are you?"

She spotted her mother with Loren, both of them positioned within easy reach of the smoked salmon and miniature spanakopita. Raising her glass of chardonnay, she continued, "I'd like to make a toast to my mother, who not only gave me artwork and red hair, but the rabble-rouser streak that I hope to indulge in my new firm. Thanks for everything, Callie." She was pleased to see her mother actually blush.

As others raised their glasses, Val pulled the cord that released the covering on the wall hanging. There were gasps as people saw the dramatic colors and images Callie had used in her visual meditation on the law. If she didn't get more work out of this, Val would eat the hanging herself,
sans
ketchup.

She had intended a thank you toast to her father as well, but he wasn't here yet, so she finished with, "Here's to justice and plenty of billable hours!"

Amidst more laughter, she descended from the desk with the helping hand of Donald Crouse. "Quite a party, Val," he said warmly. "You're off to a grand start. Taking on this death penalty case has also given you plenty of good publicity."

"That's not why I'm doing it."

"I know, but that doesn't mean it won't help your new practice." Seeing a friend across the room he moved on, giving Val a chance to catch her breath. Playing hostess was hard work.

The guest list included many former colleagues and people she had worked with, as well as a good dash of personal friends. Kate Corsi, who had sent her to Rob, was here with her husband and admiring the church restoration, while their mutual friend Laurel had come down from New York and was now taking pictures of the party.

The nuts and bolts of the open house were being handled by Kendra, who had chosen the caterers and menu and was now quietly directing events. She was spectacular in a fuchsia suit that made her look like the star of a television lawyer show. Even the beads braided into her hair harmonized with the suit. Val made a mental note to ask Laurel to e-mail the best pictures of Kendra so Daniel could see them.

Only four more days till the execution date.

Kendra appeared at her side. "I just got a phone call from your father. He sent his apologies. Something came up, and he can't make it down this evening."

"Why am I not surprised?" Val managed a brittle laugh. "Thanks, Kendra."

As she moved away, she told herself it was ridiculous to feel such disappointment when she had known all along this might happen. Sure, Brad was a busy man, but most of the people in this room were equally busy. Laurel had traveled down from New York even though she was a busy art director in the middle of a major advertising campaign.

The plain truth was that an illegitimate daughter simply wasn't that high on Brad Westerfield's priority list. If she needed a bone marrow transplant and her father could provide a match, she didn't doubt that he would find the time to donate the marrow, but launching a new business wasn't as important, even if Val was his only lawyer daughter.

Though it was a good party, she found herself most aware of the people who were missing. Her father. Bill Costain. Rob. He had been invited, but declined on the grounds that it would be stressful for both of them. Plus, she suspected, he really didn't want to be in a crowd of lawyers who knew who Robert Smith Gabriel was. He was right not to come, but she would have given all the crab balls and salmon to see him here. Their unplanned tryst the night before had only made her want him more. With an internal sigh, she returned to hostessing.

Rachel arrived as the party started to wind down. "Sorry I'm late, Val. A minor crisis just before I was ready to leave the hospital."

"Not a problem. Stick around after everyone else leaves, and we can plan Kate's shower over the leftovers." Val waved Rachel over to Kate Corsi and her husband Donovan, who were chatting with Laurel. The only member of the Circle of Friends missing was Rainey, and she would have flown in from New Mexico if she and her husband weren't acting in a play in Santa Fe this weekend. Whereas Val's own father...

Val mentally slapped herself. Callie had always been firm that self-pity was one of the ugliest of emotions. Brad might not be the most devoted of fathers, but he had kept in touch with her and paid child support regularly, which is more than many men would have done. And, thank God, he hadn't orphaned her with a crazed murder-suicide.

The thought put matters into perspective. Val moved to the door so she could say good-bye to people as they left. Laurel approached and gave her a hug. "Thanks for inviting me, Val. I like being able to envision your office when we chat." She cast her artist's eye around the church. "This is a great place. Callie's hanging is amazing."

"Any chance of getting together before you go back to New York?"

"Sorry, no, I'm taking the train back tonight."

"It was so good to see you here." Val returned the hug, thinking how well New York suited her old friend. Laurel had been a thin, dark, rather angular girl whose wit and talent were hidden behind shyness. Since then, she had learned how to transform her slim frame and aquiline features into a striking stylishness that turned heads anywhere. "We don't see enough of each other. E-mail and phone calls aren't the same."

Laurel grinned. "You know where the train station is."

"Okay, when both our current projects are done, I'll be up for a weekend. Think about what show we should see." After asking Laurel for the Kendra pictures, Val became busy with other good-byes. The last guest, except for Rachel, was gone by 8:30.

As Val collapsed in a chair, Kendra said, "Why don't you take Rachel back to your house? I can supervise the cleaning and lock up."

Tempted, Val scanned the clutter and the caterers who were busily dealing with it. "You don't mind? You must be as tired as I am."

"Not hardly. I didn't have to play hostess all night like you did. Looking effortlessly successful is hard work." With a cheerful smile, Kendra sent Val and Rachel on their way with a large bag of leftovers.