Falling for King's Fortune

by Maureen Child

  While Jackson stood, earthbound, feeling like he was sinking deeper and deeper into a mire.

  He had to find her. Especially now. He couldn’t risk losing this merger with the Cornice family.

  And he sure as hell wasn’t ready to become a father.

  A week later, Casey held the phone in a grip so tight her knuckles were white. “You’re sure? There’s no mistake?”

  “Honey, I checked and rechecked.” Casey’s best friend Dani Sullivan’s voice came through loud and clear with just a touch of sympathy. “There’s no mistake.”

  “I knew it.” Casey sighed, leaned back against the kitchen wall and stared up at the rooster clock hanging on the wall opposite her. The hands went to five o’clock and the rooster crowed. Why had she ever bought such a ridiculous clock? Who needed a rooster crowing every hour on the hour?

  And who cared about the stupid rooster?

  “Thanks for putting a rush on this, Dani.” Dani worked full-time at a private lab and she’d done the testing herself, just so Casey could not only get the results faster, but be absolutely sure about those results. “I appreciate it.”

  “No problem sweetie,” she said. “But what are you going to do now?”

  “Only one thing I can do,” Casey said, straightening up and walking across the room to grab her iced tea off the kitchen counter. The old fashioned wall phone’s cord was stretched to its limits and slowly reeled Casey back in.

  “I’ve got to go see him.”

  “Hmm,” Dani said thoughtfully, “considering what happened the last time you went to see him face-to-face, maybe you should consider a phone call instead.”

  “You’re never going to let me forget that, are you?” The whole point of a best friend was having someone you could tell your deepest, darkest secrets to. So naturally, she’d spilled her guts to Dani. The downside was, Dani wasn’t shy about offering her opinion.

  “The point is, you haven’t forgotten it, have you?”

  “No,” Casey said. She hadn’t forgotten. Worse, she’d dreamed of Jackson almost every night. She kept waking up hot and flushed, with the memory of his hands on her skin. And that memory, rather than fading, was only getting stronger. With only a small effort, she could almost taste his kiss again.

  And she didn’t want to admit just how often she expended that effort.

  “But,” she said, lifting her chin before taking a sip of her tea, hoping the icy drink would cool her off a little,

  “that doesn’t mean I’d make the same mistake again. Once bitten and all that.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “You know, a little support wouldn’t be out of line,” Casey said, frowning.

  “Oh, I’m supportive,” Dani argued, her voice low enough that no one else who worked with her could overhear, “but I still don’t think it’s a good idea for you to meet him face-to-face, so to speak, again. With the kind of news you’re going to deliver, I really think you’d be better off making a phone call from a safe distance.”

  Probably. But she couldn’t do that. She really resented being put in this position, but there was nothing she could do about it now. By all rights, Casey never should have had to make this decision. Things had changed though and she’d been backed into a corner. So there was really only one thing to do. The right thing.

  “Nope,” she said. “I have to tell him. And I have to do it while I’m looking at him.”

  “Never could change your mind once it was made up,” Dani muttered.

  “True.”

  “Just be careful, okay?” her friend said. “He’s one of the Kings, you know. They practically own half of California. If he decides to, he could make your life really difficult.”

  Fear curled in the pit of Casey’s stomach. She’d considered that already. But she’d done her homework. She’d done research on Jackson. She knew he was the playboy type. The footloose and fancy-free kind of man. The kind who didn’t want entanglements.

  So she was pretty sure that despite the news she had to deliver, he wasn’t going to make trouble for her. He’d probably thank her for the information, offer to write her a check—as if she’d take money for this—and then quietly go back to his lifestyle of easy women and mega money.

  “He won’t,” Casey said firmly, wondering if she were trying to convince herself or Dani.

  “I hope you’re right,” her friend said. “Because you’re certainly betting a lot on the outcome of this.”

  Oh, Casey was well aware of that.

  Three

  Jackson looked across the table at the woman he was planning to marry and felt the slightest buzz of interest for her. But compared to what he had felt for his mystery woman, it was the voltage of a double A battery alongside the frenzied energy of a nuclear power plant.

  He’d assumed that whatever attraction there was between them would grow with time. Hadn’t happened yet though and he was forced again to remember the instant chemical reaction between he and Casey Whoever during their one night together. And what kind of statement was it that he’d had a better time with a perfect stranger than he was having with the woman he was expected to propose to? Images of Casey smiling, Casey naked, reaching for him, filled his mind and despite everything, Jackson felt his body burn and his chest tighten.

  His mystery woman.

  What had she been after?

  She’d deliberately seduced him. Gone out of her way to entice him, then disappeared without a backward look. Who did that? And why?

  If he didn’t get answers soon, he was going to go nuts.

  “My father says you’re interested in the airstrip in upstate New York,” Marian said, snapping Jackson’s focus back to her.

  As it should be. Didn’t he have the damned engagement ring in his pocket? Wasn’t he planning on proposing tonight? He had plans for his life and they didn’t include mystery women, so best for him to get on with this.

  “Yes, it’s big enough for several flights a day and I’ve already worked out a new schedule with my pilots,” he said, lifting his coffee cup for a sip. Dinner was over and there was only dessert left on the table. Naturally, Marian would no more eat the chocolate mousse she’d ordered than she would dance naked on the tabletop.

  If there was one thing Jackson had learned about the woman over the last couple of months, it was that she was far more interested in how things looked than how things really were. She was painfully thin and ate almost nothing whenever they went out. And yet, she always ordered heartily, then spent her time pushing the food around on her plate with her fork.

  His mystery woman, he recalled, had had curves. A body designed to allow a man to sink into her softness, cradle himself in her warmth.

  Damn it.

  Marian was watching him through calm brown eyes. Her dark brown hair was tucked into a knot on the back of her neck and her long-sleeved, high-necked black dress made her look even thinner and less approachable than usual. Why was he suddenly looking at Marian with different eyes?

  And why couldn’t he stop?

  The small velvet box in the pocket of his suit coat felt as if it were on fire. Its presence was a constant reminder of what he was there to do and yet, he hadn’t quite been able to bring himself to ask the question Marian was no doubt waiting to hear.

  When he felt the vibration of his cell phone, Jackson reached for it gratefully. “Sorry,” he said. “Business.”

  She nodded and Jackson glanced at the screen. He didn’t recognize the number, but flipped the phone open anyway and said, “Jackson King.”

  “This is Casey.”

  His heart jumped in his chest. Even if she hadn’t identified herself, he would have recognized that voice. He’d been hearing it in his sleep for days. But how the hell had she gotten this number? A question for another time. He shot a quick look at Marian, watching him, then keeping his own voice low and level, he said, “I’ve been wanting to talk to you.”

  “Now’s your chance,” she said and he heard the hesitation in
her tone. “I’m at Drake’s coffee shop on Pacific Coast Highway.”

  “I know the place.”

  “We need to talk. How soon can you get here?”

  Jackson looked at Marian again and felt a small stab of relief at being able to escape this dinner and avoid asking the question he’d come there to ask. “Give me a half hour.”

  “Fine.” She hung up instantly.

  Jackson closed his phone, tucked it into his pocket and looked at the woman opposite him.

  “Trouble?” she asked.

  “A bit,” he said, grateful she wasn’t going to demand explanations. No doubt she was used to her father bolting out of dinners to take care of business. Reaching into his wallet, he pulled out the money required for the bill and a hefty tip. Then he stood up and asked, “I’ll take you home first.”

  “Not necessary,” she said, lifting her coffee cup for a sip. “I’ll finish my coffee and get myself home.”

  That didn’t set well. Bad enough he was leaving her to go meet another woman. The least he could do was see her home. But Marian had a mind of her own.

  “Don’t be foolish, Jackson. I’m perfectly capable of calling a cab. Go. Take care of business.”

  He shouldn’t have felt relief, but he did. Another small tidal wave of it splashing through him. “All right then. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  She nodded, but he’d already turned to weave his way through the diners seated at linen-draped tables. He hardly noticed his surroundings. His mind was already fixed on the coming meeting. He would finally see his mystery woman again. Finally discover just what she’d been up to when she’d come onto him. He’d find out if she’d been protected during their night together.

  And if she played her cards right, maybe the two of them could share another night of amazing sex.

  Forty-five minutes later, he was parked outside Drake’s. The place was practically an institution in this part of California. Around for more than fifty years, Drake’s was cheap, the food was good and they never closed.

  A far cry from the quiet dignity of the restaurant he’d just left, when Jackson pulled the door to Drake’s open, he was met by a cacophony of sound. Conversations, laughter, a baby’s cry. Silverware being jangled into trays and the crash of dirty plates swept into buckets by harried busboys. The overhead lighting was bright to the point of glaring and the hostess, inspecting her nail polish, looked just as bright when she spotted Jackson.

  He hardly noticed though. Instead, his gaze swept over the booths and tables until he found the person he was looking for. Blond hair, pale cheeks, and blue eyes focused on him.

  “Thanks,” he said, walking past the hostess, “I found my table.”

  Walking down the crowded, narrow aisle between booths, he kept his gaze locked with Casey’s and tried to read the emotions flashing one after the other across her features. But there were too many and they changed too quickly.

  His gut fisted. Something was definitely up.

  Tonight, she wasn’t dressed to seduce. Tonight, she wore a pale green, long-sleeved T-shirt and her short hair was mussed, as if she’d been running her fingers through it. She wore small silver stars in her ears and was chewing at her bottom lip.

  Nerves?

  She should be nervous, he told himself. He had a few things to say to her and he doubted she was going to like many of them. But damn, just looking at her made him hot and hard again. She had a way of getting to him like no other woman ever had. Not something he wanted to admit even to himself, let alone her. But it was there. A niggling tug of desire that was damned hard to ignore. He stopped alongside her table, opened his mouth to speak and then slammed it shut again.

  Beside her in the red vinyl booth, was a child’s booster seat. And in that seat was a baby girl. Jackson scowled as the infant—surely not even a year old yet—turned her face up to his and grinned, displaying two tiny white teeth.

  And his eyes.

  Tearing his gaze from the child, Jackson glared at Casey and ground out, “Just what the hell is going on?”

  For just a moment, Casey wondered if Dani hadn’t been right. Maybe she should have just told him her news over the phone. At least then, she wouldn’t be faced with a tall, gorgeous furious male looking at her as if she’d dropped down from the moon.

  Casey had watched him arrive. Watched him approach, in his thousand-dollar suit, looking as out of place at Drake’s as a picnic basket at a five-star restaurant. He’d obviously been out when she called. And she couldn’t help wondering who he’d been with.

  Now, she stared up into his eyes—the same eyes she saw every morning when her daughter woke up to smile at her—and fought down the nerve-induced churning in the pit of her stomach. She’d known he’d be angry and she was prepared for that. Didn’t mean she had to like it.

  Yes, she was doing the right thing. The only thing she could do, being the kind of person she was. But that didn’t mean she wanted to. Or that she was feeling at all easy about this confrontation.

  She watched as he shifted his gaze from her to the baby and back again and felt his tension mount. She didn’t need to see it in the hard set of his broad shoulders or the tight clenching of his jaw. She could feel it, radiating out around him, like flames looking for fresh tinder.

  And things were only going to get worse in the next few minutes.

  “Why don’t you sit down, Jackson?” she finally said, waving one hand at the bench seat opposite her. Keep calm, she told herself. You’re two mature adults. This can be settled quickly and calmly.

  As if he’d just remembered that they were in public, he grudgingly slid into the booth, braced his forearms on the table and glared at her.

  Maybe not calmly. But at least he wasn’t willing to shout and argue in public. Precisely why she’d chosen Drake’s to let him in on her little secret. “Thanks for coming.”

  “Oh, are we being polite now?” He shook his head and let his gaze slide to the baby, now happily gumming the corner of a teething biscuit.

  Casey knew what he was seeing. A beautiful little girl with a thatch of dark brown curls and big brown eyes. Her cheeks were rosy from the nap she’d taken on the drive to the diner and her smile was wide and delighted with the world.

  But Jackson didn’t look so delighted. He looked more like he’d been hit over the head with a two-by-four. Casey could hardly blame him for being shocked. Her daughter was the best thing that had ever happened to Casey. But Jackson was being slapped with a reality that she had been living with for nearly two years.

  It was a lot to take in.

  Especially for someone like him.

  According to her very detailed research into his background, he was a womanizer. Hence her seduction routine at the bar a week ago. She’d known that he’d respond to her if she showed the slightest interest. It was what he did. He was a man who couldn’t make a commitment that lasted more than a few weeks. He was dedicated to his own pleasure and living his life unencumbered.

  Not exactly prime father material.

  When his gaze shifted back to hers, Casey stiffened. Accusation and reproach shone in his eyes and were very hard to miss.

  “Since we’re being so very civil, you want to explain to me just what exactly is going on here?”

  “That’s why I called you. To explain.”

  “Start with how you got my cell number,” he said and nodded when a waitress approached with a pot of coffee. She deftly turned the cup over on its saucer, poured the coffee, then drifted away again at his dismissive glance.

  “I called your office at the King airfield,” she said once they were alone again. “The recording on the answering machine listed your cell number for emergencies. I thought this qualified.”

  He blew out a breath, took a sip of his coffee, then set the cup down gingerly, as if he didn’t trust himself not to throw it against a wall. “All right. Now, how about you explain the rest. Starting with your full name.”

  “Casey Davis.”

>   “Where you from?”

  “I live just outside Sacramento. A little town called Darby.”

  He nodded. “Okay. Now, about…” He glanced at the baby again.

  Casey inhaled deeply, hoping to settle the jangle of nerves rattling around inside her. She’d known this was going to be hard. She just hadn’t expected to feel almost mute when the time came for her to speak.

  Clearing her throat, she told herself to just say it. So she reached over and smoothed her palm over the back of her daughter’s head. “This is Mia. She’s almost nine months old—” she paused to look deeply into his eyes “—and she’s your daughter.”

  “I don’t have children.” His eyes narrowed until they were nothing more than slits with dark brown daggers shining through. After several long seconds ticked past, he finally said, “I don’t know what you’re trying to pull here, but it won’t work. I’ve never seen you before a week ago.”

  “I know—”

  He laughed shortly but there was no humor in the sound. The harsh overhead lights spilled down over him and weirdly cast his features more into shadow than illuminating them. “I came here wanting to find out who you were, why you slipped out on me and to find out if you were trying to set me up by getting pregnant deliberately…turns out you were way ahead of me.”

  Casey straightened up, insulted to the bone. She was trying to do the right thing and he thought she’d—“I was doing no such thing.”

  “You purposely set out to seduce me that night.”

  “It wasn’t difficult,” she said reminding him easily that she hadn’t exactly kidnapped him, tied him to the bed and had her wicked way with him. But at the first memory of that night, her body stirred despite her best efforts.

  “Not the point.” He waved one hand as if dismissing that argument. “You had an agenda and saw it through. What I want to know, is why?”

  Picking up a napkin, she leaned over, wiped Mia’s mouth despite her daughter’s efforts to pull free. Then Casey looked at Jackson again. “I went there to get a sample of your DNA.”

  He laughed again. Louder. Harsher. “You went a hell of a long way to collect it!”