Page 52 of A Legal Affair

“Any way you like, Miss Moreau,” he said with a slow, lazy grin that made her pulse leap. “Thanks for dinner. I think that was the best tortilla soup I’ve ever had.”

“Janie’s mother will be thrilled to hear that,” Daniela said, rising from the table with their empty bowls. “Janie is my sister-in-law, by the way. Would you like seconds?”

“No, thanks. I’m good.”

“How about coffee, and some dessert? My mom made her award-winning peach cobbler before she left for Houston. Unless Noah devoured it all while he was here, there should be some left.”

Caleb glanced at his watch. “I really should be going.”

“Are you sure? Not many people can turn down my mother’s famous cobbler, baked with the sweetest, juiciest peaches she handpicks from the orchard herself.”

He hesitated. “Award-winning, huh?”

Daniela grinned. “Six years in a row at the annual church bake-off.”

“In that case,” Caleb drawled, “how can I refuse?”

He should have refused.

Really, he should have. But refusing Daniela Moreau was fast becoming a foreign concept to him.

So he agreed to a slice of peach cobbler, and when Daniela asked innocently, “À la mode?” he shook his head, and forced his body not to react to the memory of the last time she’d offered him ice cream.

He polished off the cobbler in three bites, not because he was in a hurry to leave—as should have been the case—but because it was so damn good. When he’d finished eating, a laughing Daniela poured him a cup of coffee and led him into the living room. He couldn’t help admiring the hypnotic sway of her hips as she walked, and his mouth watered at the way the plush fabric of her robe molded her delectable round ass.

When she joined him on the sofa, he realized, too late, that he should have sat in one of the armchairs. When she leaned forward to slide a coaster beneath his coffee cup, her robe gaped open, tempting him with an eyeful of plump cleavage.

He swallowed hard, feeling like a horny teenager on his first date. He didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed when she moved back, settling against the overstuffed cushions and tucking her long legs beneath her.

She gave him a smile of relaxed contentment. “So you live in the Towers, huh? Pretty swanky.”

He shrugged. “Believe it or not, my reasons for moving there had nothing to do with seeking a prestigious address.”

“Ah, yes, you had sentimental reasons,” Daniela murmured. “Your parents used to take you to see shows at the Majestic.”

“That’s right.” A soft, nostalgic smile touched his mouth. “I sawThe Wizfor the first time there. I’ll never forget how excited I was to see an all-black cast in a live performance. It’s all I talked about for weeks afterward.”

“Aww. What a little prince you must have been,” Daniela teased, poking him playfully on the arm. “As an only child, I bet you were spoiled rotten.”

“Think again,” he countered, chuckling. “My father went out of his waynotto spoil me, and he made damn sure my mother didn’t, either. He said he didn’t want to raise a soft, pampered rich boy, and I applaud him for that.”

“You do?”

Caleb nodded, vaguely amused by her surprised tone. “One of the best things my old man ever did for me was make me work hard for everything I wanted. Whether it was money for football camp or my first car, I had to earn it. I took nothing for granted, and that’s the way it should be.”

“You’re pretty adamant about this,” Daniela observed, giving him a look of fascinated admiration. “Do you plan to raise your own children with the same tough love?”

“IfI ever have children,” Caleb drawled, “then, hell yes, I see nothing wrong with teaching them the value of a work ethic. I’ve watched too many childhood friends crap out because they never learned to fend for themselves.”

“That’s a shame.” Those dark, exotically tilted eyes studied him in silence for a moment. “How did your mother die, Caleb?”

He stiffened, his jaw tightening.

Seeing his reaction, Daniela hastened to say, “I’m sorry, that was too personal. You don’t have to answer if?—”

“She died of complications from lupus. I was fourteen.”

“Oh, Caleb,” Daniela murmured gently. “I’m so sorry.”