PAROLED!

by Paula Detmer Riggs

  "Spoiled and loving it." Her soft chuckle made him smile. "And she loved the doll Santa brought her."

  "Did she?"

  "Yes. She's named her Prudence."

  "Good Lord," he muttered. "Where did she get that?"

  "From the Golden State Museum. Her class took a field trip there in the fall. Apparently she took a liking to a picture she saw there of three sisters. One was Prudence. You can probably guess the other two."

  Her voice had a slightly husky quality that made Tyler think of rumpled sheets and sleepy Sunday mornings. Even as he raked his water-slick hair away from his forehead, he felt the blood pooling in his groin. Somehow he kept his voice even. "Hope and Charity?"

  "Close. Faith and Patience."

  "I guess she has her reasons."

  "One can only hope."

  He smiled in spite of the black mood settling over him. "As long as she has you, she'll be fine."

  "Tyler, about the candle…" Cait paused for a moment, and he could almost see the smile curving her mouth. "I love it. Thank you."

  He had to take a deep breath to still the violent need to ask her to meet him. He wanted her. Here. In a motel. Anywhere.

  He rubbed his hand over his belly. The tension increased. "You never did tell me what you wished for the last time," he said into the sudden silence.

  "That's because it never came true."

  Once he would have told her to be patient. That wishes sooner or later come true, just as his grandmother had promised. Now he knew better. "In that case, I hope that this time it does."

  There was another pause before Cait answered. "So do I."

  In the silence of his room, her voice seemed to whisper in his ear, arousing memories of the soft moans she'd made when they made love.

  There were so many things he wanted to say. So many things he should have said years ago. But a man only had one chance at genuine happiness.

  "Well, I'd better let you go," Cait said when the silence stretched.

  "Merry Christmas, Cait. And thanks for calling."

  "You're welcome. And Tyler?"

  "Hmm?"

  "I miss you." She hung up.

  Lying back, he rested his head on one arm and stared at the network of cracks in the ceiling. His eyes burned. His throat hurt.

  How many nights had he lain in just such a position, staring at the bunk above his, thinking about the woman he'd let get away?

  Nights when he'd gone over the hours they'd spent together in minute, intricate detail to keep from begging them to let him out. Nights when he'd planned exactly how he should have made love to her. Nights when he'd longed to hear her voice so desperately that he'd nearly gone mad with it.

  But those had been mind games to pass the endless hours. This was real. Cait was real. And she was very close to falling in love with him. He'd felt it in her kiss and heard it in her voice when she'd teased him so seductively.

  The terse expletive he uttered summed up his mood. He was as caged as he'd been in Vacaville, and it was his own damn fault.

  He had wanted her so desperately that he'd ignored all the reasons why it would never work between them. Reasons that were now crowding him hard. Good, valid reasons. His criminal record, the disgrace that would stain her, too, if her name was linked to his, the restrictions that governed damn near his every waking moment.

  The judge's sentence.

  "…Furthermore, it is the decision of this court that you relinquish all parental rights to the child known as Kelsey Caitlin McClane. And that you refrain from contacting said child in any way at any time for the rest of your natural life or hers…"

  His life or hers.

  He shouldn't even have been in the same city with her, let alone the same house. And that meant he and Cait would have to sneak around to make love. She deserved more, much more.

  Closing his eyes, he tried to ignore the familiar ache settling in his chest. His scientific training had taught him that hearts don't really break. But sometimes a man could hurt so much it felt like it.

  He repeated the crude curse and clenched his teeth. He had to stay away from her. He had no choice. But God, it was going to hurt.

  * * *

  Chapter 10

  « ^ »

  "Fifty-eight minutes until the new year," Cait muttered as she scooped clam dip onto a potato chip.

  "Whoopie-doo," Hazel said, twirling her finger in the air. "Excuse me, but do you think we might manage a little more excitement at this gala?" Cait said before popping the sloppy chip into her mouth.

  "Sorry, pal. This is as excited as I get these days."

  The two women were sitting in Cait's den, sipping brandy and eating junk food. It was an annual ritual that had started years earlier when they'd both found themselves alone on New Year's Eve.

  The TV was tuned to the frenetic activities in New York's Times Square. The sound was muted. From the CD player nearby, classical music played, substituting for the inane commentary of the semihysterical host surrounded by overdressed revelers. Kelsey had been asleep for hours, with Prudence tucked under the covers with her.

  Cait rested her feet on the coffee table and stared glumly at the reindeer prancing across the instep of her socks. "Do you think we're getting old?"

  "Not me. I plan to be thirty-eight for at least twenty more years."

  Cait reached for another chip. "I don't know, Hazel. Maybe we should be out doing something fun instead of sitting on our duffs watching other people celebrate."

  Hazel looked through the brandy in her glass at the silent images on the TV screen. "I'll tell you one thing, you couldn't pay me to be in that crush."

  "Me, either. I get squirrelly in big crowds."

  Hazel swirled her brandy before taking a tiny sip. "My outrageously expensive training and God knows how many years of clinical experience tell me we have a woman here in desperate need of some intense therapy. The kind that only a semihandsome, major-sexy, cowboy-type guy can administer."

  Cait shifted her gaze to the fragile glass ornament shining like the finest crystal in the glow of the lights. "He hasn't called once since Christmas. Not once."

  "Maybe he's been busy."

  The teasing glint faded from Hazel's eyes. She was the only person who knew the intimate details of Cait's Christmas Eve. Her instincts warned her that Cait was going to end up desperately hurt. Her common sense told her it was for the best. But her romantic heart ached for her friend.

  "I've called him twice. Both times Angie came back to tell me he was busy and could she take a message."

  "Cait, did you ever think that he's trying to protect you?"

  "Protect me how?"

  "From the scandal that would surely ensue if the media discovered that one of Sacramento's most prominent psychologists was sexually involved with a convicted child molester who also happens to be the father of her adopted daughter."

  "Hazel!"

  "At the very least your career would take a severe beating. At the worst it could be destroyed. Is an affair with Tyler McClane worth risking everything you've worked for?"

  That and much more, she thought, and glanced at the wishing candle again. "I think I'm falling in love with him. Besides, when he's acquitted, all that will change."

  "If he's acquitted. Nothing's settled yet."

  Cait took a quick swallow of brandy. It burned all the way down, reminding her of the hot flush that bloomed on her face whenever she remembered the feel of Tyler's mouth on hers.

  "He's suffered for years with shame and degradation he didn't deserve, because he was innocent. He's always been innocent. Right now he needs a friend. He picked me. That's what matters to me. Not the opinions of narrow-minded busybodies."

  "Whoa, lady. I really am on your side, you know."

  Cait managed a sheepish smile. "Sorry. I just hate to see him suffering."

  "You know something? I do, too. That's why, with your permission, I intend to recommend that his parole be amended to include temporary visitatio
n rights. Kelsey wants to see her daddy."

  * * *

  "Ty, call for you," Angie said as she placed the receiver on the bar.

  "Man or woman?" Tyler asked as he drew a draft from the tap.

  "Don't worry. It's not her."

  Tyler served Ben Hadley his fourth of the night and wiped his hands on his jeans before taking the receiver. It had been a long day. The Horseshoe was crowded and had been all day. The noise level battered at his already-raw nerves.

  "McClane."

  Dante was on the other end of the line, and he was all business. "There's a chance you might get temporary visitation rights."

  Tyler turned his back on the patrons at the bar. His throat was suddenly tight. "When?"

  "Fielding said that the hearing is set for Thursday at four."

  "Cait called you?"

  "Yeah, just now. Said she'd called several times and hadn't been able to reach you. Seemed reluctant to leave a message about something so personal, so she called me. Thought I might want to be there to represent your interests."

  "Hell, yes. I'll be there, too." Tyler glazed at his reflection in the mirror. His face had the washed-out look of a man in shock.

  "The hearing is closed, Ty. I can attend. You can't."

  "Why the hell not?"

  "Rules."

  Tyler gave a short, succinct opinion of those rules. "Then I'll wait in the hall, or in the men's room, or a damned broom closet. But I intend to be there."

  Dante remained silent. Tyler scowled. "What, no argument?"

  Dante chuckled. "Not from me, buddy. I know better than to argue with you when you use that tone of voice."

  "Good thinking. I'll meet you at the courthouse on Thursday."

  Dante grunted. "There's one more thing."

  Tyler heard the subtle change in Dante's voice and took a tighter grip on the phone. Behind him, men he had come to like but not really know stared at his stiff back with open curiosity.

  "Go on."

  "I think I might have been wrong about Caitlin Fielding. I'm beginning to think she just might be on your side."

  * * *

  Standing with his back to the wall, Tyler saw Harvey Shuffler a moment before the overweight parole officer saw him.

  "What's he doing here?" Tyler demanded of Dante, who was next to him.

  "Ms. Grimes requested his input," Dante muttered out of the side of his mouth as he and Shuffler exchanged nods. Shuffler merely glanced at Tyler, who met his cold-fish stare without any expression at all.

  "Input on what?"

  "On your parole record. It is spotless, isn't it?"

  "Yeah, but I wouldn't put it past the bastard to lie," Tyler said as the parole officer opened the door marked Children's Protective Services and walked in.

  Dante muttered something that Tyler didn't catch. At that moment Cait and another woman were stepping from the elevator at the end of the corridor.

  It was always the same when he saw her. An easing of thought. A quick rush of adrenaline. An overpowering need to walk into her arms.

  As she approached, she was talking to her friend in that quick, eager way that she had. Her hands, as always, accompanied her words with expressive gestures.

  He noticed that she was wearing her hair up again. For courage, he knew. This time, too, he noticed the dark, wispy curls lying soft and tantalizing against her slender neck. What he noticed most, however, was the pale fullness of her mouth. Her very sexy, very soft mouth.

  Today she was dressed in pink, but not the insipid color that most women wore. Her suit was a deep rose that probably had a fancy name he didn't know. Whatever it was, he liked it. And he liked the way the soft material showed off the enticing curve of her breasts and the swell of her hips without being blatant about it.

  "Easy, boy," Dante muttered in a nearly inaudible aside.

  Tyler felt heat sear his jaw. Before he could tell Dante what he could do with his advice, however, Cait had approached and was making the necessary introductions.

  "Dr. Hazel O'Connor, Tyler McClane, Jess Dante."

  Hazel turned to Tyler first. Her handshake was firm and sure as she murmured with a smile, "I'm glad to meet you, Dr. McClane, since I feel as though I already know you in many ways."

  Cait's colleague had an open, friendly face and intelligent eyes. She was also looking at him without censure, something that was rare these days.

  "Dr. O'Connor," he said with a smile that came more easily than he'd expected. "Thank you for all you're doing for my daughter."

  She answered him with an understanding nod before turning to Dante. "Mr. Dante. We've spoken on the phone so often that I found myself very eager to put a face to the voice."

  "Dr. O'Connor."

  Tyler liked the way the slightly formidable woman managed Dante's awkward left-handed handshake without the slightest flicker of reaction. Dante noticed, too. His usual reserve with strangers was nowhere in evidence as he and the psychologist began discussing the hearing.

  Listening but not participating, Tyler told himself to relax. His palms were sweating. His throat was dry. Vascular signs of intense nervousness. Along with an accelerated pulse.

  Those things would gradually dissipate.

  Not so his intense awareness of the woman next to him. He desperately needed one of her smiles. He needed her.

  Her scent reminded him of the night she'd lain in his arms. Not even the classy suit could make him forget the silk of the skin underneath. Of her hot, moist softness closing around him.

  The muscles of his arms strained against the need to hold her again. He shoved both hands into his pockets. It didn't help.

  "So, are you nervous?" Cait asked him in a low tone.

  "Terrified."

  "Me too. Teri Grimes is about as warm as a gestapo agent."

  Tyler felt an ominous tightening in his gut. "Sounds like she should be a guard at Vacaville instead of a social worker for kids."

  "Don't worry. Hazel and I can handle her. We've had a lot of practice." Cait's eyes crinkled into a grin.

  He noticed that she was wearing a hint of makeup that somehow made her eyes darker and her lashes spiky. But it was the steady calm shining from the depths of those eyes that he noticed most. Noticed and hung on to.

  "How's Kelsey?" he asked after a moment of silence that neither seemed inclined to break.

  "I think she said about two words to me this morning, so I'm not quite sure."

  "Does she understand what's going on today?"

  "She knows that the judge is going to decide if you can come and see her on a regular basis. Sarah's parents are divorced, so Kels knows all about visitation days."

  "Is she scared, do you think?"

  "More contemplative, I think, although she's told me more than once that she wants to see you again. Even so, this is all pretty overwhelming for an almost-nine-year-old."

  "For an already-forty-one-year-old, too."

  This time the silence held. Even Dante and Hazel had run out of conversation. Fighting a need to pace, Tyler unbuttoned his jacket and shoved his hand into the pocket of his slacks.

  "Looks like you and Dante have different tastes in ties," Cait murmured, flipping the pointed end with her forefinger. It was just an excuse to touch him, but he didn't have to know that. "Is it new?"

  Tyler wished she wouldn't look at him in that slightly nearsighted way. It made her eyes take on the slightly drowsy cast of a woman eager for love.

  It came again, the quick, hard tug of desire. He had managed to back down on his hunger for her, but now, surrounded by people and worried sick besides, he felt the urgency building again.

  He tried to distract himself by concentrating on the pattern of the tie. He'd bought it in a hurry on the day of Kelsey's school play. It wasn't one he particularly liked, but he hadn't wanted to embarrass Kelsey, even though no one in the audience could know who he was.

  "Everything is new," he said. "Crys threw away just about everything I owed after the tria
l."

  Cait realized that he was wearing the same clothes he'd worn to the play. The blazer, a classic navy blue, had difficulty accommodating the wider-than-average breadth of his shoulders. His shirt, a pristine white that made his tan even more dramatic, was crisp with starch and stretched across a belly that she knew to be lean and fit. His trousers, though wool and pleated, did little to hide the power in his long, sinewy thighs.

  Cait squared her shoulders and ran her tongue along her lower lip. She was nervous and trying hard not to show it. But Tyler noticed, and frustration settled like a stone in his gut.

  He should be the one doing battle for her, not the other way around. Hell, there were a lot of things he should be doing, like using a scalpel instead of a damned corkscrew.

  And sleeping next to her warm pliant body instead of alone.

  Restlessness gripped him again, the same restlessness that had nearly driven him crazy in prison whenever he thought about a life without a purpose. He felt emasculated at the very thought of never practicing medicine again.

  "Uh-oh, there's Teri's secretary." Cait touched his arm and drew his attention toward the office. The woman standing there was dressed in gray flannel. Tyler's gut twisted when he saw that she had a humorless face and perfect posture.

  "Dr. Fielding? Dr. O'Connor?" the woman called. "Ms. Grimes will see you now."

  Cait gave her a wave and a grin. "Thanks, Marge."

  Hazel cleared her throat. "Here's hoping," she said as she walked toward the office. Cait started to move away as well, but stopped when Tyler laid a hand on her arm. Dante shot a quick look at both Tyler and Cait before following Hazel.

  "I'll be right there," Cait called after them.

  Tyler realized his hand still rested above her wrist and made himself withdraw it. Her warmth stayed with him.

  "Cait, whatever happens, I want you to know that I'm grateful for all you've done for Kelsey. And for me."

  Her gaze searched his face. "I should have done this four years ago. I'll always regret that I didn't."

  The soft tremble in her voice had his jaw tensing. "Take my advice and put it behind you. Regret's a damn heavy load to carry."