Yet he'd dared to dream, to reach for someone so pure and bright, someone untouched by the tawdriness that was his legacy.
Most of their marriage he'd spent grateful that Vicki didn't know the truth of where he'd come from. Sure, she'd seen that he had humble roots, but she hadn't known the true extent of his degradation. He'd never wanted her to feel shame at being Caleb Callaghan's wife, never wanted to destroy the shine in her eyes.
"We're the same," she whispered.
It was the one response he wasn't prepared for. "Vicki?"
"I might be the biological offspring of my parents but that's only by chance. They serially cheated on each other. Grandmother placed the sole blame on my mother, but I'm not stupid. I listened to what the servants gossiped about. My father was, and still is, known for his penchant for young secretaries." She shrugged. "The one good thing you can say about them is that they divorced and didn't make me miserable by keeping me between them."
"No, they let Ada do that." His anger on her behalf momentarily overcame his shock at the way she'd placed them both in the same category. "They'd have done better to put you in boarding school. At least that way you wouldn't have had to grow up listening to constant emotional abuse."
To his surprise, Vicki laughed and hugged him. "Thank you for being angry for me." Pulling back, her face grew serious. "If you can be angry for me, I'm allowed to be furious for you. No more, Caleb. I've drawn the line. We ensure Lara's kids get taken care of but everyone else is on their own. I won't have them acting like it's their right to ask you for money, for support, when all they've ever given you is pain."
He'd never imagined the moment would come when his wife would fashion herself his protector, accepting his darkest secret with honest simplicity that gave him the tools to do so himself.
The pain of his parents' rejection wouldn't disappear overnight, but he knew it would never again be the razor-sharp anguish he'd grown used to. He'd been accepted by someone far more important to him than a man and woman who'd long ago lost the right to his respect, someone he adored with every breath he took. "Thank you, sweetheart."
She shook her head. "No thanks necessary. We'll look after each other. You save me from Queen Ada and I'll save you from Max, Carmen and Lara. Deal?"
He grinned at her use of the nickname he'd created for her grandmother, even as he thanked God for her. It was clear that the impact of her own emotional upheaval was still surging through her, but equally obvious was her fierce desire to ensure his happiness. How could he not be crazy about her? "Deal."
That Tuesday, Victoria sent Caleb off to work with a smile and a kiss. She loved that she could do that-kiss her husband goodbye with every ounce of passion she had in her and not worry that she was doing the wrong thing."Be home for dinner," she ordered.
"Yes, ma'am." He grinned and blew her a kiss as he walked out to the car, a lightness to his step she'd never before seen.
Laughing, she returned the gesture then walked back into the house to get started on her work for the charities. "My work," she said, doing a little dance. Her whole body echoed the lightness in Caleb's step. It felt as if a cloud had lifted from both of them.
Shadows continued to linger but the festering darkness had been confronted and banished. Maybe one day they'd speak about Miranda, but now that they'd finally become a solid unit, it seemed foolhardy to bring it up. It was done, and given Caleb's views on fidelity, he'd probably punished himself a hundred times over for his slip. For the sake of their child, she had to wipe away that last remnant of pain and move on to other things, such as her new job.
She had no illusions the work would be easy. It might even be impossible. But she was going to try, and no one could ever laugh at her for that, for attempting to be a woman she could be proud of. Before she could earn Caleb's respect as a partner, she had to rebuild her own self-image, had to become happy with who she was as an individual apart from her husband.
She wasn't a business or legal whiz, nor was she artistically gifted, but she had a way with people. This job was simply a tool to help her understand and appreciate her own strengths.
Picking up a few of the documents she'd printed out from Helen's e-mails, she started to read. Some of the technical, money stuff she put aside. She wasn't too proud to ask Caleb for help, aware that he looked at a lot of financial reports during his working day. However, it boosted her confidence when she quickly grasped the majority of the issues.
Helen was right. The charities bled money and, unfortunately, there was no way to plug the gaps. These operations were already run on a shoestring and a prayer-injections of cash at regular intervals were a necessity. As Helen had said, not one costly dinner, but a steady stream of money.
Vicki took out a piece of paper and started noting some names. She knew people who knew people and those people had lots of influence in the right places. Perhaps all that mingling was about to come in handy.
Caleb cleared his files in record time and managed to make it home before six. He had no intention of letting Vicki down, not after everything they'd gone through the previous weekend. If he was being honest, part of him wanted to make sure she hadn't changed her mind about him.The sudden vulnerability was uncomfortable but he knew the look in Vicki's eyes as she welcomed him home would make it bearable. However, when he arrived, it was to find her closeted in her study with dinner nowhere in sight. After a flare of irritation, he dialed out for Chinese. Then he headed to her.
"Busy?" he asked, standing in the doorway of the room she used as her study and sitting room. In the past, she'd often retreated here and he'd felt shut out of her life. Though he knew this wasn't the same, the memories that came with the room were enough to aggravate the already raw edges of his emotions.
She looked up, her distracted air clearing. "Oh, you're home." Then she frowned. "What time … oh my God! Give me a few minutes to throw something together for dinner."
He caught her flustered body as she tried to rush by him. "I'd rather you spent that time kissing me."
"Caleb! Dinner-"
"-has been taken care of."
Looking guilty, she dropped her head on his chest. "Time got away from me. This fund-raising job is so interesting. I've been putting together a few ideas. I really want them to hire me when the month is up."
He'd never seen such excitement on her face. "Tell me about it over dinner." Then he kissed her the way he'd been wanting to do since he'd walked through the door.
She sighed and returned the kiss, using her mouth in ways that she'd learned pleased him. Groaning, he tightened his embrace, feeling his arousal grow. Forget about dinner, he thought, what he really wanted to gorge on was his wife's beautiful body. And it was about so much more than sex. Without this physical contact, both of them would flounder in their emotional healing. He'd learned that the hard way when he'd stifled his own tactile nature.
"I hate this room," he murmured into her mouth, telling her another truth he'd kept inside for too long.
She undid his tie. "Why?" The tie was flung to the side, her fingers on the button at his collar.
"You used to hide from me in here." It had compounded his feelings of rejection to know that his wife couldn't bear his presence. He still wasn't completely recovered, still not certain she wouldn't withdraw into her shell if he asked too much of her.
She didn't deny it. "Want to make new memories?" Pressing a kiss to the skin she'd bared at his throat, she smiled. "I could do with some happy ones, too. I think that side of our ledger is in serious debit."
He felt something in him lighten. "They'd have to be red-hot." When he pulled at the bottom of her turtleneck, she lifted her arms and let him peel it off. "Blazing hot." He ran his fingers over the satiny straps of her bra.
Her eyes were soft with welcome but it was with her actions that she spoke. She slipped button after button from his shirt and spread the sides open. "You are so perfect, Caleb. Sometimes it feels like you were created from my dreams."
No one had ever said anything so wonderful to him. No woman had ever looked at him as if he was everything she'd ever desired. Vicki wasn't merely accepting him, she was thanking him for coming into her life.