by A. P. Jensen
His eyes burned and she refused to back away when he towered over her, invading her space. Again.
“Pushing me away isn’t the answer. What we had together hasn’t faded,” he stated.
When she opened her mouth to scream at him he leaned forward and brought his mouth a scant inch from her own. Breath seized in her lungs and no words emerged from her lips. She was surrounded by the smell of his skin, the intensity of his eyes and the strength he exuded. His body heat beat against her cold flesh and her hands curled into fists in an effort to stop herself from leaning into him and accepting his strength and comfort. She glared up at him instead.
“My sister’s dead and you want sex?” she sneered.
He kissed her on the corner of her mouth. It was a gentle brush of his lips that was done with before she could register what happened. It was a gesture of comfort and friendship she didn’t want to accept from this man because she couldn’t afford to trust him again. Why did the simple gesture make her want to cry?
“Sex is easy. What we feel for each other isn’t and you know it,” Mitchell said calmly.
She couldn’t deny the simple brush of his lips on her cheek was more effective than a French kiss. How could she love and hate someone at the same time? She broke eye contact so and tried desperately to regain her thoughts. .
“I need to get to Texas,” she murmured, staring at his tie.
“My jet’s waiting.”
Long pause. “How soon?”
“All it takes is a call but I come with the jet.”
“Please.”
It was a plea for him to stay in New York, to let her deal with everything herself. She didn’t want him to see her this way, didn’t want his help because she knew she was still susceptible. It was the reason why she fought him so hard and he knew it.
Mitchell shook his head. “No.”
She wrapped her arms around herself. She glanced up at his implacable face and knew she couldn’t delay her arrival in Texas just because she didn’t want to spend time around her ex. She could do this.
“Make the call,” she whispered.
She walked around him and went into the bathroom. She stripped off her gown and let it fall carelessly to the floor before she sank to her knees. She stared sightlessly ahead as tears dripped from her eyes. She bowed her head, covered her face with her hands and let out a keening sound she immediately smothered. Casey was her responsibility, her little sister to help and guide and she failed once again. Here she thought Texas was the best place for her to be and now she was gone. She would never see Evie grow up. A sob escaped from her mouth and she turned on the shower to drown out the sound of her mourning. She wasn’t sure how long she sobbed on the bathroom floor and she didn’t care. If she didn’t do something about the emotions inside of her she would explode. When the torrent of tears slowed she lay on the tile of her bathroom for several minutes, trying to gather herself. Her thought process was sluggish and muddled. When the sobs turned into pitiful whimpers she forced herself to stand, wash her face and change. Despite the midnight hour she put on sunglasses. When she walked out of the bathroom she found her suitcase gone. When she trudged to the front door she wasn’t surprised to see Max, Mitchell’s bodyguard standing there with Mitchell. She nodded at him and he nodded respectfully.
Mitchell clutched her arm as they walked to the elevator as if he was afraid she would faint or turn hysterical on him. She wanted to shrug him off but she didn’t. She felt lightheaded and sick to her stomach. Mitchell had a private car waiting at the curb and he held the door open so she could slide in. She slumped into the leather cushions.
“Do we need to stop at your place?” she asked huskily.
“No. I have clothes on the jet.”
She didn’t ask any other questions. A short time later she walked onto his jet and was greeted by the pilot. She was familiar with the jet, knew his staff and refused to think about the repercussions of accepting his help. She needed to do something so despite Mitchell’s attempts to filch her phone she called Amy and explained the situation. She paced the aisle as she fought the urge to just sit and weep. That wouldn’t solve anything. After she hung up with Amy she sent off several emails and tapped her hands on the arm of her seat when she was finished. She stopped in mid tap and called a decorator to start working on making her guest bedroom into a nursery. She put the phone down again and tapped restlessly.
Mitchell eyed her. “My assistant can take care of all of that.”
“I need to do something,” she said faintly.
“You’re taking custody?” he asked without inflection.
Her stomach twisted with terror but she tilted her chin at him. “She’s my niece.”
“What about the father?”
“He doesn’t want anything to do with Evie.”
Casey became pregnant within six months of dating Evie’s father and he made it clear he supported an abortion, as had their mother. Grace twisted her hands together and stared out the window, willing the jet to move even faster. A sympathetic stewardess brought her ginger ale and Tylenol.
“What about your mother?” Mitchell asked.
Grace set her glass down very deliberately before she met his gaze. Mentioning her mother when she wasn’t in complete control was never a good idea. It roused forgotten bitterness and her only fears of parenting. Her mom encouraged Casey to have an abortion and continued to blackmail Grace’s father to punish him for never loving her in return. Her mother was the reason Grace was sick to her stomach about the thought of parenting. If Ray and Vicky were the only role models she had… wasn’t Evie better off with someone else?
“What about her?” Grace snapped.
“Why not ask her to take care of your niece? She doesn’t work the hours that you do.”
He was practically daring her to admit that her mom wasn’t suitable to be around children. The last was a very deliberate dig that made her hand clench into a fist. No matter how much she despised the choices her mom made in life she refused to discuss them with a man who grew up in luxury. How could she explain to someone as successful and driven as Mitchell about her mom who blackmailed the only man she had ever loved? Grace knew it would change Mitchell’s perception of her and she was right. In society background was everything. It was why Grace never discussed her family with Mitchell in the two years they were together. Little had she known that Ray beat her to it.
“It’s better that I take custody,” Grace said diplomatically.
“You can’t even admit to yourself what she is,” he said scornfully.
Her hand fisted. “My family is no concern of yours.”
“Is that why you never brought them up? Because they’re not my concern? How long were you going to hide the fact that you were putting regular deposits into a bank account you never told me about?”
She stiffened. “You checked my bank statements?”
“I didn’t understand why your bank account never got bigger no matter how much profit you made. You also didn’t come home at least once or twice a week whenever I was away on business. I had to know.”
She didn’t respond. Objectively, she knew her actions were shady but there was nothing to say now. It didn’t matter. She stared out of the window instead of getting into an argument she knew she wouldn’t win.
“Stop ignoring me,” he snapped. “Doing your best impression of the ice queen isn’t going to run me off. I can take whatever you dish out. I know you’re holding everything in. You’ve been more of a mom than a sister to Casey.”
His words sent a crack through the façade she was holding onto by sheer willpower. She sucked in a breath. “Don’t say her name.” She couldn’t hear her name without wanting to let beat her fists against the walls of the plane.
“If you need to cry, cry. If you need to yell at me, go ahead but you aren’t doing this alone no matter how much you think you don’t need me. Whatever you need, ask and it’s yours.”
She couldn’t stay stil
l. Being this close to him with no one around to distract them from each other was making her crazy. She drank her ginger ale and paced up and down the aisle. She bit her lip, thinking about taking custody of Evie. Doubt plagued her. Grace paused in her march up and down the aisle and placed a call to her mom. Vicky didn’t answer so she left a voicemail, asking her to call as soon as possible. She hadn’t talked to her mom for a year and from what little Casey said, their mom was getting deeper into drugs and alcohol but even Vicky deserved to know her daughter passed. She thumbed through her contacts, trying to think of more things she had to do to pass the time.
Mitchell got tired of watching Grace pace and got up and pushed her down into the seat beside him. When she tried to get up he twined their hands together and anchored her in the seat. When she looked up to tell him off, the words died on her tongue.
“Just sit,” he said.
His hand was warm, his grip confident and sure when she felt so lost and frantic. She broke eye contact and let out a long shaky breath. He was just holding her hand. She could handle that. Only a few more hours and then she could get away from him.
“I need to get to Evie,” she said to remind herself why she was putting herself through this hell.
“She’s seven months old now, right?”
She shot him a surprised glance and he shrugged.
“I tracked Casey’s pregnancy.”
She shook her head. “You are unbelievable.”
“So you’ve said before.”
She hadn’t meant it in this context. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes because she was starting to feel sick from the stress.
“How did it happen?” he asked.
She swallowed. “Drunk driver. She was pulling out of her driveway and he slammed right into her door.”
He didn’t ask any more questions. For a long while they sat staring straight ahead, hands clasped. A part of her wanted to jerk her hand away but the other part that was terrified wouldn’t let her. Mitchell worked on his laptop and made phone calls. It was comforting, a familiar rhythm she realized she missed. She listened to him switch languages and make notes on a legal pad as he worked. It lulled her into an uneasy doze.
Chapter Four
When they landed in Texas, rain pelted down from the sky. Mitchell had a car waiting. She was vibrating with tension as Mitchell gave the driver the name of the hospital. She could feel her heart beat speed up. She needed to see for herself that Evie was fine. She was trying so hard to keep her emotions contained that she felt close to splintering apart by the time they walked into the hospital. Mitchell’s authoritative presence got them immediate directions to the nursery where Evie was being held. Grace heard Evie’s cries as soon as she entered the hallway and began to run.
Grace pushed open the door to the nursery and saw Evie screaming in a nurse’s arms. The nurse murmured to Evie soothingly but nothing calmed the baby. Grace moved forward and as soon as Evie saw her aunt she lunged away from the nurse who was holding her. The nurse stared at Grace for a long moment before looking beyond her to Mitchell who filled the doorway. Her eyes bugged in recognition and Grace hoped the nurse wasn’t about to sell this story to the tabloids. It would make her life so much more difficult.
Grace enfolded Evie in her arms, rocking her from side to side. This was all she had left of Casey. Evie shuddered against her, winding down from her sobs and occasionally letting out a hiccup. The nurse pulled herself together and tried to update Grace on Evie’s health but she was too busy hugging Evie’s tiny body as close as she could get. Evie survived the car accident without a scratch. Mitchell stepped in to confer with the nurse to give Grace time. Evie dug her hands into Grace’s sweater as if afraid she would disappear.
“Grace?” Mitchell said and she turned reluctantly.
Mitchell was struck dumb when the baby turned her head away from Grace’s chest and looked at him. She was identical to Grace. Same skin, hair and haunting jade eyes. He felt as if he’d been punched in the stomach. Evie could have been theirs. The thought blasted through him and he tried to swallow the lump in his throat. Grace held the baby protectively as silent tears poured down her face. Grace was emotionally stripped and all the emotion she hid from him was showing. Her face was a mask of such love and grief he had to look away.
“The nurse says she needs to eat. She hasn’t since the accident,” he said gruffly.
He had to sit down. Why hadn’t he thought to ask for pictures of Casey’s daughter? Why hadn’t Grace told him her niece was a replica of herself? He couldn’t drag his eyes from Evie who rubbed her face against Grace and relaxed slightly. It was obvious to everyone in the room that the baby and adult had an established bond.
The nurse handed Grace a bottle. Grace sat in a rocking chair and with one hand clenched in her shirt Evie accepted the bottle, staring up at Grace the whole time. Her eyelashes were spiked with tears and Grace felt her heart breaking all over again. She felt Mitchell’s gaze. Was he thinking the same thing she had when she saw Evie? It was ironic that her niece was a mirror image of her when she and Casey were only half-sisters.
Mitchell couldn’t watch Grace and Evie staring at each other. The air vibrated around them. Seeing the baby caused emotion to bubble up inside of him, unwanted and irrepressible. He began to pace. He usually repressed the urge but he found he couldn’t stop. He heard the soft coo from the baby and Grace reassuring Evie that she wasn’t going anywhere and that she was safe. He paused beside Grace.
“She looks just like you.” Evie was so tiny. Was she going to be petite like Grace or tall like Casey?
“I know,” Grace said, brushing damp strands of red hair from Evie’s face. “I’m scared she’s gonna be like me.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
Grace didn’t answer. She rocked Evie and the baby was so exhausted she fell asleep with the bottle in her mouth. A nurse approached and Mitchell looked to Grace for permission. She was chalk white with exhaustion and shock.
“You want me to handle the details?”
“Please,” she whispered without looking up.
Grace couldn’t take her eyes off Evie, couldn’t bring herself to be parted from her. She was completely responsible for Evie and for the first time in her life she had absolutely no idea what to do next.
“I have to arrange a funeral for Casey,” Grace said numbly, watching Evie crawl across the lavish carpet.
“If you want, I can handle the details,” Mitchell offered, watching Evie pick up a TV remote and gurgle in manic delight.
“I should do it,” Grace said.
She took the TV remote from Evie so she wouldn’t brain herself with it. She was so tired. She swayed where she sat. It was a whirlwind of paperwork, statements and calming Evie every time Grace moved a foot away from her. Mitchell was by her side, answer questions, pointing out where to sign and ushering her in the right direction. It was almost ten in the morning before Mitchell called a halt to everything and took her to a nearby hotel. A part of her knew she needed to deal with the house she bought for Casey but she didn’t protest.
Now that they were away from the gaggle of doctors and nurses and the sense of urgency they carried, Evie was reverting back to her normal self. She was curious, independent and confident. Evie stood, using a square glass table as leverage. She pounded the table with her chubby fists and Grace rushed forward before Evie hit her face on the sharp edge.
“Casey told me she was beginning to stand on her own. This is the first time I’ve seen it,” Grace said as she carried Evie back to the middle of the room.
“This place isn’t very baby proof, is it?” Mitchell said, looking around the presidential suite with a new set of eyes. He watched Evie turn the simplest things into weapons.
“No,” Grace said wearily, letting Evie balance against her.
“Someone’s getting her clothes and toys together from Casey’s place,” Mitchell said as someone knocked on the door.
Mitchell go
t up and let in a hotel worker who dragged in a play pen, crib, changing table and diapers.
“The girls at the front desk recommended this stuff for Evie.”
A wan smile curved Grace’s mouth. The thought of Mitchell asking for advice about baby “stuff” was funny.
“Thanks.”
“Do you want to take a shower or just go to bed?” Mitchell asked, watching warily as Evie crawled towards him.
“I don’t know,” Grace said, rubbing her aching head.
She felt sick, heartbroken and on the verge of collapse. She saw the way Mitchell looked at Evie like a ticking bomb. If she wasn’t so exhausted, she would have laughed.
“Do you want to shower?” Mitchell persisted and stiffened when Evie slapped his shiny shoes and tugged on his slacks.
Grace rose to grab Evie but stopped when Mitchell held up a hand, never taking his eyes off the child. “She’s fine. I can handle her for a few minutes if you want to take a shower.”
“I can take her,” Grace insisted and came forward and stopped again when Mitchell glared at her.
“I can take care of her. You aren’t going to be any good to her if you’re dead on your feet.”
She hesitated. Taking a shower sounded like heaven but she wasn’t sure about leaving Evie with Mitchell. She knew Mitchell wouldn’t hurt her but she had no idea what experience he had with kids. As far as she knew he had as much experience as she had before Casey had Evie- none.
“You don’t like kids,” she began.
“I never said I don’t like kids.”
Evie stood and sidestepped away from Mitchell, using the couch for balance. He hesitated before he reached out and gently grasped the baby’s arm. He froze, waiting for her to scream but Evie grinned up at him, showing two bottom teeth. He guided her gently back to him and let her lean against his knees. She let out a shrill scream of delight that startled the hell out of him. He blinked. How could such a small person make such noise?
