PAROLED!

by Paula Detmer Riggs

  "That's what I keep telling myself, too. But I still feel guilty."

  Cait saw something flicker in his eyes. A moment's reflection told her that it was more than mere sexual hunger. It was a rigorously disciplined self-denial. And a terrible sadness that slipped inside her and made his pain hers.

  "Keep your fingers crossed," she whispered as she went on tiptoe and kissed him hard on the mouth.

  Stunned into speechlessness, Tyler watched her hurry away from him. Even when the door closed behind her, he was watching.

  * * *

  Two hours later Tyler was again leaning against the wall and wondering if his stomach could tolerate another cup of coffee from the canteen.

  He had just decided that it wouldn't when Harvey Shuffler pushed open the door opposite and stalked over to him. The man's face was livid. One eyelid had taken on a nervous twitch.

  "Maybe you have those two female doctors conned, McClane, but you don't fool me."

  Tyler kept his face expressionless. "I want to help my daughter."

  "Don't give me that. You want to sleep with her the way you did before."

  Tyler knew a moment of rage so savage he couldn't breathe. He went icy inside. His hands balled into white-knuckled fists.

  "Go ahead, Dr. McClane," Shuffler urged. "Take a swing at me."

  Tyler thought about all the times he'd had to swallow his anger. The days and nights he'd lived with a knot in his belly. Remembering, he took a deep breath the way he'd learned to do, followed by another and yet another until he had mastered the rage.

  "Not a chance, Mr. Shuffler."

  Shuffler's expression turned ugly. "You think you're so damn clever, acting like some upstanding guy who's been given the shaft, when all the time you're sick inside. But sooner or later you'll slip up, and then you're mine."

  "I know the rules."

  Shuffler sneered. "Yeah? Well, here's another one for you. You're not to see your daughter without Dr. Fielding's permission and only in her presence or Dr. O'Connor's."

  Tyler's face went stony. "Your idea, no doubt."

  "No, Dr. Fielding's." A gleam slithered into Shuffler's washed-out blue eyes. "Looks like the lady shrink doesn't quite trust you as much as she lets on."

  "That's my problem, not yours." Tyler's voice was sheathed in steel.

  Shuffler's face splotched beet red. His expression turned mean. "McClane, you step out of line just once and you'll know what a problem really feels like." He poked a fleshy finger into Tyler's chest. "That's a promise," he hissed before he turned and stalked away.

  Tyler saw Cait then. She was so close that he knew she'd heard every word. He forced himself to face her and braced for her reaction to his humiliation.

  "You know something? That man is a real pig," she muttered as she walked toward him. Her eyes were lighted from within with anger. Her mouth was formed into an expression of disgust. He had never wanted her more.

  "That's a polite way of putting it, I guess."

  Cait laughed. "Are you all right?"

  "Now I am."

  For a moment they stood motionless. She sensed his frustration and his anger, but there was little she could do to help.

  "Jess and Hazel are hammering out the specifics with Teri, but it looks as though you'll be able to see Kelsey at least once a week. Perhaps more, if we can arrange it."

  Tyler had trouble filling his lungs. "Starting when?" His throat burned.

  "Starting now, actually. Uh, I'll call you and we can make plans."

  "Whatever you say."

  "Well, that's a first," she teased. "Maybe I should have that written down and notarized."

  "Too late."

  He watched her eyelashes sweep up and down and wondered why he hadn't noticed how thick and lacy they were. Or why he hadn't realized that they were a shade darker than her hair.

  "You look whipped," he said, glancing over her shoulder toward the end of the hall, where Shuffler was repeatedly jamming a thumb into the elevator button. "Was it that rough?"

  "Not so bad. Hazel and Dante did most of the talking." She made a face. "And your buddy, the pig person."

  His eyes crinkled a split second before he laughed. Cait saw a rare glimpse of the man he had once been and felt a slow rolling deep inside her. Like a wave building to tidal proportions.

  "One thing he's not, and that's my buddy."

  Cait sobered. "No, he's not. He tried his darnedest to convince Teri to deny visitation rights unequivocally."

  "So he said."

  "Have you done something to make him mad?"

  His brows made a hard line over his nose. Even so, his mouth was surprisingly relaxed, as though he were still smiling inside. "Jess asked me that, too. I can't come up with anything specific."

  She brushed a piece of lint that only she could see from his lapel. "He reminds me of a lot of bullies I've known. All talk and no guts."

  "He doesn't need guts. He's got the rule book to hide behind."

  His hand came up to fold around hers. Cait liked the way her hand felt in his. Dainty, warm and very safe. She liked the way he smelled and looked. Most of all, she liked the way his mouth gentled just before he kissed her, the way it was doing now.

  Her lashes fluttered shut, and she raised her face to his. He noticed the freckles then. Tiny ones the color of antique gold. His head lowered. A split second before his mouth found hers, his gaze flicked to a spot behind her.

  "Company," he grated.

  She opened her eyes and blinked. "Hazel?"

  "And Jess. My timing's always been rotten," he said with a smile that seemed rueful and supremely masculine at the same time.

  "How's your timing on Saturday?"

  "Why?"

  "Come to lunch. Just the three of us. You and me and Kelsey." His fingers pressed tighter, and he swallowed hard.

  "What time?" His voice was scratchy with emotion.

  "Eleven." She drew a deep breath and reluctantly slipped her hand from his. "You know the address."

  * * *

  Cait's heart was thudding almost as loudly as the knock on her front door. She allowed herself a moment of panic, then straightened her shoulders. There was nothing she could do about the rush of heat to her face, however, or the erratic way she seemed to be breathing.

  "Morning," Tyler said when the door was open and they were face-to-face.

  "Good morning."

  He had brought flowers. White carnations. Her fingers brushed the back of his hand as she took them from him and raised the cool, lacy blossoms to her nose. They smelled of cinnamon.

  "I've always loved carnations," she murmured, a smile in her eyes. "Thank you."

  "I haven't bought flowers for a woman in a long time." One side of his mouth moved. "I hope it hasn't gone out of style."

  "Not with me," she said softly. "But then, I've been told I'm a closet romantic." She dimpled. "I suspect that really means I'm hopelessly old-fashioned."

  "Guess that makes me old-fashioned, too, since I brought them." He touched one of the blossoms, the one closest to the silky skin beneath her chin. It was the next best thing to touching her.

  "You're right on time." She opened the door wide and stepped back to allow him to enter.

  "Actually, I was an hour early. I've been walking around the block to work up my courage."

  He was ashamed of the kind of father he'd been. He just wasn't all that sure how to become a better one.

  "You're here. That's what counts," she murmured as she closed the door.

  Tyler worked on steadying his nerves as he followed her down the hallway to the kitchen. He hadn't even been this dry mouthed and scared when he'd taken his state boards.

  "I'll just put these in water, and then we'll go outside. Kelsey and Prudence are making sure the birds don't get all the tortilla chips."

  She opened the junk drawer and searched through the jumble for the scissors.

  Tyler prowled the kitchen, absorbing a part of Cait's life that he'd never know
n before. Like the rest of her house, the kitchen was pleasantly cluttered and splashed with sunshine. Kelsey's school papers and an assortment of snapshots of her and her friends covered almost every square inch of the refrigerator door.

  One corner had been turned into a cozy breakfast nook, where the mismatched cushions on the benches looked inviting. There was a bay window, too, that looked out over a well-tended rose garden complete with birdbath and hummingbird feeder.

  "Someone must like birds."

  "I do, except when they decide to take a bath at the crack of dawn." Cait stopped her search for the scissors to glance toward the window.

  "There's this very independent mockingbird who just loves to sing in his shower. I wouldn't mind much, but I'm absolutely convinced he's the only off-key mockingbird in California. But we're discussing it."

  She laughed. The sound was soothing, like a sudden cool breeze on a steamy day in high summer. Tyler had liked the sound of her laugh before he had liked her. Just as he'd been seduced by her personality before he had serious thoughts about her admittedly very seductive body.

  "Aha, I knew it was here," she muttered as she drew the large shears from a nest of odds and ends.

  Tyler stood in the doorway and watched. One by one she snipped the ends from the crisp silver-green stems. She worked quickly but carefully, as though preparing the flowers was the more important thing in the world.

  She hummed as she worked, and her eyes had the same soft look of pleasure that he couldn't seem to get out of his mind. He unzipped his jacket and turned back the cuffs. The house wasn't warm, but suddenly he was sweating.

  "Something smells good," he said, because the silence was suddenly too tense to handle.

  "Chocolate cake." Cait threw the scissors into the drawer and raked the cuttings into her hand before tossing them into the trash basket under the sink. "It's Kelsey's favorite," she added with a soft smile. "But then, you know that, don't you?"

  "Mine, too."

  I know, Cait thought as she stretched toward the top cupboard for a vase. But the crystal container remained a fraction of an inch beyond her reach, no matter how tall she tried to make herself.

  "Here, let me," Tyler muttered. As he reached past her to fetch the vase from the shelf, Cait was intensely aware of the strong, male body so close to hers.

  For an instant she considered turning into his arms, but the memory of her unanswered phone calls stopped her. Later, when they were alone, they would talk. She would, anyway. In the meantime, she busied herself with the flowers.

  "Tyler, there's something … about the conditions Ms. Grimes imposed," she said into the fluffy blossoms. "I heard Shuffler tell you that it was my idea."

  He waited until she looked up at him, then used the back of his hand to brush her hair away from her flushed face.

  "It's okay. I'm not upset. Shuffler laid it on thick to get a rise out of me, but I understand. You were right when you told me I should be glad someone is fighting to protect my daughter."

  "Is that what you think?"

  He nodded. "It's not easy to trust a guy with my record."

  Cait drew a sharp breath. "Oh, Tyler!" she exclaimed softly. "That's not it at all. I could see that Shuffler had just about convinced Teri to rule against you, that's all. I had to think of something, anything, to make sure that didn't happen."

  "I'm glad you're on my side, Cait."

  "Is that why you haven't taken my calls? Because you thought I didn't trust you?"

  His brow knotted, as though he were in pain. His gaze dropped, then rose to search her face before settling on her mouth.

  "I never should have touched you. It put us in an impossible place."

  Cait took a deep breath. The hungry way he watched her told her that it wouldn't take much to fan the smoldering desire in his eyes into flames. But that would be the worst kind of manipulation, the kind Crystal had practiced so well.

  "Why don't we just concentrate on being friends, then?"

  "I'm not sure that's possible."

  Her chest felt tight from the strain of holding in her emotions. "Shame on you, Tyler McClane. Don't you know that anything's possible if it's what you really want?"

  "Is it?"

  Her breath trembled in and out. "Remember the wishing candle?"

  Cait gave him a quick smile, and he saw that her eyes looked golden in the sun. A longing to belong in this place came without warning. A man could be happy here—if he belonged. He felt a hard ache settle in his chest.

  "If you're ready. I'd better go out there and face my daughter," he said with a quick look at the door leading to the patio.

  "Yes, you'd better. Poor Kelsey's been up since six, making sure things were perfect for our picnic."

  Carrying the flowers, Cait led the way through a small utility room to the back door. Outside, the sun was shining. Busily foraging birds stopped occasionally to sing from the sheer joy of the day. Winter mums were blooming in sturdy redwood planters bordering the brick patio.

  There was a large redwood table in the center. Plates, glasses and silverware were piled at one end. At the other end were trays of raw vegetables and chips next to a terra-cotta bowl of salsa. Another small table held napkins, place mats and condiments. Sodas were cooling in a nest of ice in a bright red chest.

  Near the chest were another, smaller table and chairs. Kelsey's Christmas doll was seated on one of the chairs. A much loved pink plush rabbit with chewed ears sat on the other. A miniature china pot and two cups were neatly arranged between them.

  Tyler saw only Kelsey.

  Dressed in purple sweats and bright pink sneakers, she was standing by a grill at the far side of the patio. Her hair was tied into a thick ponytail by a matching pink ribbon.

  His heart began a slow painful thudding in his chest. So tight were his muscles that he had trouble drawing enough air into his lungs.

  Now that he was face-to-face with his daughter, he realized that he didn't know the first thing about talking to a nine-year-old.

  The closing of the door drew her attention, and she turned. Her mouth trembled before she clamped her lower lip between her teeth.

  "Hello, Kelsey," he said very quietly. "Uh, it's a nice day for a picnic." He glanced upward at the blue sky. A few puffy clouds rode high and lonely on the horizon.

  Kelsey sidled to the miniature table. As she busied herself pouring Prudence's tea, she kept sending curious glances toward the big man with the nice face who didn't smile much and looked like a cowboy.

  Mama Cait had said he was her daddy, so she knew he had to be. But the memories she had of Daddy were of a man in a stiff white coat who didn't talk much and was always in a hurry.

  "Prudence hates picnics," she said when both tiny cups had been filled. Tyler noticed that her gaze never quite settled on his face. The distance between them seemed to stretch forever. But he had to try.

  "She does? Why?"

  "She says they're too common."

  "Prudence is a very proper lady," Cait explained gravely to Tyler as she walked past him to carry the flowers to the table.

  "I can see that," he said with equal gravity. "No doubt she prefers high tea."

  "No doubt," Cait murmured with an encouraging smile.

  Tyler drew a deep breath before turning again to his daughter. "What about you, Kelsey? What do you think about picnics?"

  Kelsey shrugged. "They're okay, I guess."

  Cait winced mentally at the singular lack of enthusiasm in the child's voice, even though she knew that it was prompted by fear and anxiety. One look at Tyler's face told her that he was struggling with exactly the same emotions.

  "Well, I love picnics," she said with a defiant grin as she pulled out a chair and sat down. After plucking a carnation from the vase, she waved it in the air like a baton. As she'd intended, both Kelsey and Tyler stopped eyeing each other warily and turned in unison to look at her.

  "Okay, pay attention, you two. We have to get organized here." She noticed tha
t both Kelsey and Tyler wore identical looks of surprise and grinned.

  "Kelsey, you set the table. Tyler, you see to the coals."

  "Oh sure, give her the easy job," he muttered, but his heart was thudding heavily.

  "C'mon," Cait scolded. "You were raised on a ranch. Surely you know how to cook out?"

  "Yeah, but we used mesquite logs and a spit. I don't know anything about these wimpy charcoal things."

  "What do you think, Kelsey?" Cait prompted. "You want to trade jobs with your daddy?"

  Kelsey eyed him uncertainly, but some of the pinched tension eased from her face. "No way."

  "Sorry, Tyler," Cait told him with a look that was anything but pitying. To hide her grin, she lowered her head to the carnation and treated herself to another sniff of its spice.

  "Yeah, so I see."

  He saw too many things. The graceful arch of her neck when she drew closer to the flower. The soft rise of her cheek.

  Did she know that her skin seemed as touchable as the pure white blossom? he wondered as he walked to the cooker and regarded the hunks of charcoal turning gray around the edges.

  "Why do I think I'm not going to like this?" Tyler said to Kelsey, who was watching him with open curiosity now.

  "’Cause you're probably not," the little girl said with the first sign of a smile he had seen.

  "Don't look so uptight, Tyler," Cait said with a wink at Kelsey. "Daddy looks as though he's about to be staked out over an anthill, doesn't he?"

  Kelsey giggled. "Maybe I should trade with him."

  It was such a small thing, the subtle hint of teasing in her voice, but Tyler felt as though he had just passed the first hurdle.

  A quick glance in her direction told him that Kelsey was no longer watching him as though he had just stepped from an alien space ship.

  "Forget it, kid," he said with a shake of his head. "You had your shot at this prestigious job. Now it's mine."

  Cait saw the little girl's mouth twitch and wanted to hug the father. No one watching him now would see a single sign of the humiliation he had suffered because of this small, shy child. Nor would they have an inkling of the emotional torture he had endured because of her innocent mistake.

  "I like that attitude, Tyler," she said as she selected a plump carrot stick from the tray. "Shows a lot of class, don't you think, Kels?"