Free Secrets in the Marriage Bed by Nalini Singh Page A

around her refused to move but she felt his anger. “I’m too exhausted to do this right now.”
    “Fine.”
    She felt him fall asleep minutes later, while she lay awake for what seemed like hours, temper, frustration and angry jealously churning in her gut. The truth was a floodlight shining into her eyes. Her husband might have slept with Miranda—might still be sleeping with her—but it was the firm that was his true mistress.
    How could Vicki fight that?

Seven
    T he next morning, Vicki made Caleb some coffee and passed him his toast, munching on a piece of bread as she worked. She wasn’t feeling particularly wifely but it had seemed petty to make breakfast for herself and ignore him, notwithstanding the tension that thrummed between them like a high-voltage wire.
    Caleb ate quickly and stood. Picking up his coat, he headed out but stopped before he got to the front door. “I better get an early start—I had to let a lot of things slide yesterday.”
    Not happy at the reminder that the firm had a grip on him stronger than any woman’s, she forced herself to say, “Have a good day,” as she walked him to the door. Still feeling bruised from their altercation, she was finding it very hard to act as though everything was fine.
    He paused with his hand on the doorknob. “I’m not ignoring what you said last night. I’ll be home for dinner but I might have to go back to the office afterward.” His eyes met hers. “I can’t change the habits of a lifetime overnight.”
    Her heart warmed. At least he was willing to try to see things from her point of view. She didn’t mind if he worked late sometimes, but the problem with Caleb was that he was so driven that sometimes could easily turn into always. She’d learned that the hard way. “Think of it as practice for being home at bath time and bedtime.” If he was willing to try, so was she.
    The strain on his face lessened at the acceptance in her voice. “Do you want to go out for dinner?”
    She shook her head. “I’d rather spend some quiet time alone. You?”
    “Home. I’ll aim to arrive around six.”
    “I’ll be waiting.”
    After he left, Vicki quickly tidied up the house, haunted by the same issue that had so angered her the night before. She still had no idea what she could do for self-improvement. It depressed her how unqualified she was to be anything other than a society wife.
    She knew how to mingle, how to be the perfect hostess, how to make people laugh and feel good about themselves, how to create contacts for Caleb and ensure the right people met at dinners or parties—she even knew how to soothe the worst of tempers without making a big deal of it. What job did that qualify her for?
    The harsh jangle of the phone interrupted her pity party sometime around mid-morning. She picked it up, surprised to find Caleb on the other end.
    “I’ve set up an appointment for you to talk to someone,” he said, sounding harassed. “She’ll come by the house at eleven.”
    “Who?”
    “Her name’s Helen Smith. I’ve got to go, sweetheart. One of our major client’s sons got picked up for underage drinking. Imbecile. If he wanted to drink, why didn’t he ask his father? The man has a wine cellar the size of Texas.”
    “I didn’t know you handled things like that.”
    “We don’t, except as a courtesy to our commercial clients. Everyone else is tied up today so I have to make the court appearance on junior’s behalf in twenty minutes.”
    He hung up without further goodbyes. Surprised and mystified, she saw that she had half an hour before her guest’s arrival. Deciding her jeans and pale pink shirt would do, she set about preparing a fresh pot of coffee and some quick biscuits. She was pulling them out of the oven when the doorbell rang.
    She opened it to find a woman of around Caleb’s age on the doorstep. Dressed in jeans and a navy sweatshirt, she had long auburn hair pulled into a ponytail.
    “Ms. Smith?” Vicki held out her