Falling for King's Fortune

by Maureen Child

  Casey felt herself falling for the man and even though she knew it was a gargantuan mistake, she couldn’t seem to stop herself. Yes, he was bossy and arrogant. But he was also tender and sweet. He could make her insane by pushing all of her buttons and then at night, he pushed different buttons and made her crazy in a much nicer way.

  But there was no future in this. She was clearly setting herself up for a huge fall come the end of six months. Jackson had no intention of falling for her and Casey knew it. Right now, she was convenient, that was all. “It’s my own darn fault, too. I never should have let this start up. Idiot.”

  Her hands fisted on the steering wheel as she looked out over what seemed like a mile of gleaming black hood. Glancing in the rearview mirror at the mirror fastened in front of the baby seat, Casey could see her daughter’s smiling face.

  “You like your daddy, don’t you?” she asked and Mia waved her bedraggled teddy bear in response.

  Casey wasn’t blind. She could see the rapport building between Jackson and his daughter. In fact, he was a much more involved father than she’d thought he would be. Which made her worry a little. The closer he got to Mia, the harder it would be for him to let her go at the end of six months. And what if he decided he didn’t want to let Mia go? What then?

  What if he fought for custody anyway?

  “Oh, this is turning into such a big mess,” Casey whispered and flipped her turn signal on at the entrance to the airfield.

  The field was, as were all things King, big. She drove straight up to the tower where Jackson’s office was located and parked. When she got out of the car, the first thing she noticed was the noise. Jet engines rumbling, men shouting, and a loudspeaker calling for maintenance.

  Getting Mia up and out of her car seat, Casey walked quickly to the building and slipped inside. Worrying about tiny eardrums around so much noise put speed into her steps. The tower building itself was carpeted and sleek, with chrome-and-black furniture and an elevator tucked into the back wall. A security guard took her name, ushered her into the elevator car and just before the doors closed, gave Mia a wink.

  When the doors swished open again, an older woman was standing there beaming at them. Her short brown hair was stylishly cut, her beige slacks and white shirt looked crisp and professional and her brown eyes veritably twinkled.

  “You must be Cassiopeia,” she said, already reaching for the baby. Mia leaned out happily, eager to explore a new face.

  “Casey, please.”

  “Of course,” the woman said. “I’m Anna. Jackson’s assistant and you, you little beauty, must be Mia King.”

  “Mia Davis,” Casey said quickly, just to keep things straight.

  Anna shot her a look, then smiled. “My mistake. Well, the boss is right on through there,” she waved a hand at a closed door. “Why don’t you go on in and I’ll take care of Mia.”

  Her daughter looked completely at home on Anna’s hip and the older woman clearly was enjoying herself, but still, Casey hesitated. “Are you sure?”

  “Oh, yes. Don’t worry. I’ve had four of my own and I didn’t break one of them.” Anna paused thoughtfully. “I did consider breaking the youngest, but changed my mind at the last minute.”

  Casey smiled, mother to mother and felt better immediately. “Okay then, I’ll just tell Jackson I’m leaving and—”

  “Take your time….” Anna had already turned away and was busily pointing out all of the airplanes to a cooing Mia.

  Casey knocked lightly, opened the office door and stepped inside. Jackson was on the phone and she almost backed out, but he held up a finger and motioned for her to come in.

  “That’s right. We’ll need the fuel delivered by tomorrow morning at the latest. We’ve got several flights booked for the weekend. Right.” He nodded, made a note on the ledger in front of him and nodded again. “Good. See you then.”

  He hung up, then stood up, coming around the edge of the desk toward her. Shooting a glance at the closed door, he asked, “Mia with Anna?”

  “Yes. She swooped in and snatched the baby the moment we showed up.”

  “Well, don’t worry. She’s in good hands.”

  Casey nodded and walked around the office. She’d wondered what this place would look like. And now, she saw it suited Jackson completely. A bank of windows to open up the world for him, wide desk, comfortable furniture and on the walls, paintings of King Jets. She turned to look at him. “You don’t mind watching Mia while I keep my appointment?”

  “No, but who’s the appointment with?”

  She blinked at him. “I’m sure you don’t know him.”

  “Him?”

  Did his tone just change? She shook her head. “Yes, him. Mac Spencer. We’re meeting at Drake’s for coffee. He wants me to design a new brochure for his travel agency.”

  “I know him,” Jackson said, folding his arms across his chest and leaning back to sit on the edge of his desk. “His agency’s in Birkfield.”

  “That’s right.”

  “So how’d he find out about you? You live in Darby.”

  “Not anymore,” Casey reminded him, still strolling the room, inspecting the stack of flight magazines on the narrow coffee table. “Mia and I took a walk through Birkfield a couple of days ago. I passed out business cards to the shop owners. Seemed like a good idea,” she said. “And clearly, it was. It’s already paid off.”

  And it made her feel good. She might be living in Jackson’s little palace, but she made her own way in the world. Always had. Once this time with him was over, she’d be back on her own, providing for Mia. The more clients she had, the better their lives would be.

  “That explains it,” Jackson muttered, springing up off the edge of his desk as if he had a fire under his behind.

  “Explains what?”

  “Mac Spencer probably took one look at you and decided to have you for dessert,” Jackson said tightly.

  “Excuse me?” She stared at him and was astonished to see that his jaw was clenched and his brows were drawn low over dark eyes that were flashing with heat.

  “He’s notorious in town.” Jackson stalked across the room, took hold of her arm and Casey did her best to resist the pull of the heat she’d come to expect from his touch. “He’s got so many notches on his bedpost it’s a wonder it’s still standing.”

  “Notches?”

  “God, Casey,” he muttered, looking down into her eyes.

  “You can’t be seriously considering going to meet this guy one on one.”

  “Of course I am,” she said, tugging her arm free of his tight grasp. “This is business, Jackson. My business. I was doing this before you came charging into my life and I’ll be doing it long after you’re gone. I’m the sole support of me and my daughter.”

  “Not anymore you’re not.”

  “Do you seriously think I’m just going to stand back and do nothing for the six months Mia and I are with you?”

  “Why not? Call it an extended vacation.”

  “If I did that,” she explained patiently, “I’d lose my clients and I can’t afford that. People depend on me to come through for them. I take my job every bit as seriously as you take yours.”

  He looked like he was chewing on that one for a second. “Fine. I’ll hire you.”

  “To do what?”

  “Brochures,” he said. “Magazine ads. You say you’re good, prove it. Work for me.”

  A little zip of excitement skittered through her, as she considered the possibilities of working on an account like King Jets. She’d be way out of her depth, she knew, but she was good at layout, design, color and flash. She could do a great job for him and—she looked up into his eyes, and read the victory shining in those dark depths. Instantly, Casey quashed her little vicarious thrills. He didn’t mean this. Any of it. He didn’t know anything about her talents or her work. He was simply doing his best to make decisions for her. Again.

  “If you’re serious,” she said, sliding the strap
of her purse up onto her shoulder, “then we can talk about it. After I meet with Mac Spencer.”

  “You’re. Not. Going.”

  She laughed shortly. “Yes. I. Am. And you can’t stop me. You don’t have the right. So,” she added as she marched quickly across his office to the closed door, “you and Mia have a good time and I’ll see you back at the house later.”

  Fifteen minutes into her “meeting” and Casey knew Jackson had been right about Mac Spencer. The man was sleaze. Oh, he was good-looking enough in a sharp, on-edge kind of way. His hair was perfectly styled, swept back from a high forehead. His eyes were blue and his jaws carried just the right amount of stubble to make him look rugged.

  But their coffee hadn’t even been served before he’d reached across the table to take her hand in his. Casey had pulled away and opened her portfolio, determined to make the kind of business contacts she would need. If she could convince this man that she could do the job, then she was willing to put up with his not-so-subtle flirtations. After all, it wasn’t the first time she’d had to peel an overeager would-be client off of her.

  But he was getting irritated at the way she kept sloughing him off. He waved one manicured hand at her still open portfolio, dismissing it. “This is all fine, but I think you’d get a better idea of what I’m looking for if we went back to my office. I could show you last year’s plan and you could convince me how to improve on it.”

  No way was Casey going to go to his office with him. She already knew it was a one-man operation, which meant that she would be alone with him. Not something she had any interest in. Much better to stay in the safety of Drake’s diner.

  “If you’ll look at this brochure I did for the Rotary Club of Darby last year, you can see that through the judicious use of color…”

  He plucked the brochure from her hand and tossed it aside. Leaning across the table, he ran the tips of his fingers down the back of her hand in a slow stroke no doubt meant to be incredibly sexy. What it was, was irritating.

  “Why don’t you let me buy you dinner then? Some place nice. Some place quieter. Where we could get to know each other a little better?”

  “I really don’t—”

  “Evening, Mac.”

  Jackson’s deep voice thundered out around them and had Casey jolting in her seat. She lifted her head to see him standing beside their table, his black, furious gaze shifting from Mac’s hand on hers to the man himself.

  “King,” Mac said, straightening up a little, giving Jackson an uneasy smile. “What’re you doing here?”

  “Came to pick up Casey,” he said tightly, leaning on the table and pinning Mac with a black stare that had the man clearing his throat and looking for an escape route. “You about done?”

  “Sure. Yes. I’m sure I’ve got all I need,” Mac said, looking from Jackson to Casey and back again like a man looking for an escape and not finding one. Finally, he slid from the booth and quickly scuttled backward, out of Jackson’s arm reach.

  “You’ve got all you’re going to get, that’s for sure,” Jackson told him.

  Nodding, Mac stiffened his shoulders, lifted his chin and sent Casey one withering look. “Thanks for the information, Ms. Davis. I’ll be in touch.”

  As Mac left, Casey heard Jackson mutter, “Like hell you will.” Then he sat down in Mac’s empty seat across from her and smiled thinly.

  “What was that about?”

  “I was saving your ass.”

  “Did it look like I needed saving?”

  “Actually, yeah.”

  Maybe it had, she thought now, wondering if the distaste she’d been feeling for Mac Spencer had shown on her features. But whether or not that was the case, she could have handled the situation on her own. “Well, I didn’t.”

  “You don’t have to thank me, but you could at least admit you needed me.”

  “Thank you?” She shook her head as she gathered up her portfolio, shuffled all of her extra papers and designs inside and then snapped it shut. “You probably just cost me what could have been a great job. This is my work, Jackson. Do I come onto the airfield and tell you which plane to fly? Or which pilot to hire?”

  “No, but that’s hardly the same thing.”

  “Of course it is.” She slid out of the booth, grabbed up her portfolio and purse and looked down at him through narrowed eyes. “I could have handled that guy, Jackson. Do you think he’s the first one to think he could lay hands on me? Do you think that’s the first time I’ve had to take care of myself in a dicey situation? Well, it’s not. I’ve done pretty well for myself my whole life and I can continue to do it. Without your help.”

  The fact that she was right had little to do with anything. She had been on her own for most of her life. He’d learned that early on. She had no family. No close friends but Dani Sullivan.

  But now she had him.

  For however long this lasted, she damn well had him.

  When she stalked down the crowded busy aisle, Jackson bolted from the booth to follow. He dodged around a waitress balancing a tray of soft drinks and kept his eye on Casey as he walked.

  His gaze locked on the sway of her hips in that short yellow skirt and then followed the line of her trim, tanned legs down to the three-inch heels she wore to give her more height.

  He’d been furious when he walked up to the table to see Mac touching her. There’d been nothing he wanted more than to plow his fist into the man’s face. And damned if he’d apologize for it.

  He was right behind her when she left Drake’s. An ocean wind raced at him as if it was trying to push him back inside. He squinted into the wind and the dying sunlight, held the door open for an elderly woman, then trotted after Casey before she could get into the SUV and take off. “Where’s Mia?” she demanded.

  “With Anna,” he snapped. “She’s perfectly safe.”

  “You were supposed to be the one watching her.”

  “I was too busy watching you.”

  “Which isn’t your job,” she reminded him.

  “Like hell it’s not,” he growled, low in his throat as he grabbed her upper arms and yanked her in close.

  The sun was setting and the weird half-light made her eyes gleam and her blond hair shine like spun gold. Her breath was coming fast and furious and his own heart was pounding erratically in his chest. “You think I couldn’t see what Mac was thinking, planning? You think I’m just going to stand by and watch as some guy puts his hands on you? Ain’t gonna happen, Casey. Nobody touches you but me.”

  Eight

  The kiss was sudden and nearly violent in the desperate passion spilling from him. Casey’s brain short-circuited around a dozen dizzying thoughts. She should stop him. She should pull away and tell him he had no say in who touched her. That she didn’t need him watching over her. She should remind him that their only connection was Mia. She should say that just because they slept together didn’t mean he owned her.

  She did none of that.

  Instead, she wrapped her arms around his neck, groaned into his mouth and surrendered to the fire. His grip on her gentled but the need didn’t.

  The heat was all-encompassing, devouring her, body and soul. His touch as he closed his arms around her middle and held her pressed tightly to him sent waves of awakening desire pulsing through her system. It was this way every time he touched her now. Since that first night together in his house, since he’d somehow shaken her loose from the life she’d thought she knew so well. One touch and she was his. One kiss and she wanted more.

  Even knowing that it would all end.

  She couldn’t stop the need for him. Didn’t want to.

  Finally, he pulled his head back and they both gasped for air. She looked up into his dark eyes and saw the same raw passion she felt reflecting back at her.

  “He touched you,” he said, lifting one hand to stroke her cheek. There was fire in his eyes, more than sexual heat, a kind of possessiveness that touched Casey on a deep primal level.

&nbs
p; “He put his hand on you and in his mind, he was doing much more.”

  “You can’t hang a man for his thoughts, Jackson,” she teased, sensing rightly that the storm was passing.

  “Doesn’t mean I can’t want to.” He cupped her face between his palms and the heat of his touch sifted down into her bones. “You make me crazy, you know that, right?”

  It staggered her to admit to herself just how much she’d wanted to hear him say he loved her. And that not hearing it was a kind of pain she’d never known before. Then the truth hit. How ridiculous to realize, while standing in a diner parking lot, that she was in love for the first time in her life. She loved alone, that she was sure of and the ache in her heart pulsated heavily.

  Trying for reason, trying for balance, she whispered, “Jackson, what’re we doing?”

  “Damned if I know.” Shaking his head, he looked into her eyes and she read confusion there. Well, that was something, wasn’t it?

  Then he took a step back, slapped one hand to the SUV and said, “I don’t like the idea of you working.”

  “Yeah, I got that,” she said, almost amused by the stubborn glint in his eye and the disgusted curve to his mouth. Maybe it was better that they don’t talk about what lay unspoken between them. It was certainly safer for Casey. She couldn’t tell him she loved him without risking seeing rejection in his eyes. Without the pain of watching him try to distance himself.

  So in the interests of self-preservation, she kept it light. “But I do work. And I won’t stop that just because I’m living in your house now.”

  “Right.” He ground his teeth together, looked out into the distance for a long moment, then shifted his gaze back to hers. “But if you were busy enough with a big client, you wouldn’t have to go out drumming up business, right?”

  Wary now, she tipped her head to one side and studied him. “What are you getting at?”

  “Just answer the question.”

  “Okay, sure.” She nodded as she thought about it. “If I had a big client, of course I’d devote my time to him—or her. But the fact is I don’t, so I have to spread myself around.”