Capital Wives Read Online Free PDF Page A

permitted.
    Deanna expected to see Marisol and her political-consultant husband Bryce McDonald at the National Museum of Women in the Arts for the American Red Cross Annual Oscar Night fundraiser the first weekend in March. Spencer had bought a table for ten, and it would give Deanna a chance to reconnect with his law partners, their wives and the McDonalds.
    She undressed, leaving her clothes in a large wicker hamper in the laundry room at the end of the hall. She’d had the laundry room moved from the first to the second floor because she’d tired of carrying baskets up the stairs. Although someone came in once a week to clean, Deanna felt uncomfortable with strangers handling her underwear. The phobia had come from her overly superstitious grandmother’s warning never to let anyone get a hold of her underwear because they could use it to cast an evil spell. Of all of her nana’s warnings, this was the only one that she’d adhered to.
    Covering her hair with a large plastic shower cap, Deanna stepped into the shower stall. Punching several buttons, she programmed the water temperature before turning it on. She sighed as the warm water sluiced over her face and body. Usually she ended her day with a warm soak in the tub, but tonight it was a shower because she wanted to spend as much time as she could with Spencer before they went to bed.
    After lathering her body with her favorite scented bath gel, Deanna rinsed off the bubbles and stepped out of the stall, reaching for a towel on the heated rack. Fifteen minutes later she skipped down the staircase in a pair of white sweatpants, matching tank top and fluffy slippers. She’d removed theelastic band from her hair and a profusion of twists framed her face while brushing her bare shoulders.
    She walked up behind Spencer, wrapping her arms around his slim waist. For a man who spent hours sitting behind a desk he was incredibly physically fit. She knew there was a gym at the firm but doubted Spencer found the time to work out there.
    â€œYou keep pushing up on me like that and I’m going to have you as the appetizer.”
    Deanna smiled as she pressed her cheek to his muscled shoulder. “I didn’t realize you were serving appetizers.”
    Spencer glanced at his wife over his shoulder, finding her stunningly exotic. Her oval, flawless, medium-brown face with large almond-shaped light brown eyes was hypnotic. It had been her eyes and lush mouth that had caught his attention when he saw her at a party she’d planned in a private room at a D.C. restaurant. He’d asked for her business card, then called her the following week, not to contract for her services but for a date. One date led to a second one, and less than a year later they were husband and wife.
    â€œI hadn’t planned to serve any. But if you want to be the appetizer, then we can wait for the entrée.”
    Deanna pressed a kiss to his spine. “Oo-oo! I love it when my baby talks nasty.”
    â€œWrong. Your baby is hungry for his woman.”
    She sobered. “How long has it been since we last made love?”
    â€œToo long.”
    Deanna knew Spencer was right. She was thirty-three and he thirty-seven, and they had to schedule time to make love with each other. When, she mused, had they become so involved in their careers that they had neglected each other? Would it continue after they became parents?
    She closed her eyes. “I want you to promise me that we’ll make more time for each other, Spencer.”
    His hands stilled. “You know I can’t do that, Deanna.”
    â€œWhy not?”
    â€œBecause every case is different. Some we’re able to settle and others we take to trial.”
    â€œCan’t you let some of the other associates fill in for you?”
    Spencer went back to peeling and chopping a shallot. “It depends on the case.”
    â€œWhat’s going to happen when we have children, Spencer? Will I have