by Day Leclaire
“Annalise.”
Why didn’t she back down? Did she know nothing about his reputation? Or did she simply not care? “You’re not the least intimidated by me, are you?”
She lifted an eyebrow. “Should I be?”
“Yes,” he stated baldly. “But you’re like a damned dog with a bone. You just don’t let go.”
She stunned him by leaning in and offering a teasing smile. “Isn’t that precisely the sort of person you want on Isabella’s side? I’m a fighter. And you’re right. I don’t give up.”
He paused to consider. He did need someone like her, someone who’d help him take on Mrs. Locke. Maybe it was time to listen to her. “What do you suggest?”
She didn’t hesitate. “Two things. First, simplify Isabella’s environment so she isn’t so visually stimulated and overwhelmed. Second, I suggest you take a few weeks off work and spend time with her in a—” she spared a brief glance around “—shall we say, in a more basic setting.”
“I can’t afford to take a few days off right now, let alone a few weeks.”
Annalise tilted her head to one side, and more curls escaped from the knot at her nape, tumbling down her shoulders and back in glorious abandon. No wonder she attempted to maintain such tight control over her hair. It was every bit as willful as the rest of her. Her eyes darkened as she regarded him.
“I thought you were willing to do whatever it took to keep custody of Isabella,” she said. “Any. Damn. Thing. Remember?”
“I have a business empire to run.”
“Then let her go.”
The softly spoken recommendation—identical to the one his lawyer, Derek, had made—hung in the air between them, vanquished only when he released a single, harsh expletive. “I must have been insane when I hired you.”
“Would it help if I promise I’ll always put Isabella’s best interests first?”
“I don’t doubt that for a minute.” He forked his fingers through his hair. Every instinct told him she was right. He’d just been looking for an easier solution. He should have known he wouldn’t find one. Building his import/export business had been no different. It had required total dedication and had demanded his attention every hour of every day, and then some. “Fine. We’ll try it your way for now.”
Her grin blew him away. “Thank you.”
He snagged the collar of her suit jacket and tugged her close. Close enough that he could feel the explosion of her breath against his jawline. “We’ll try it your way for now. But one stumble and that changes. Are we clear, Ms. Stefano?”
“Are you a perfectionist, Mr. Mason? Are your employees expected to be just as perfect?”
She’d reverted to a more formal manner of addressing him and he could guess why. Since she couldn’t pull free of his hold without losing their small battle of wills, this was her subtle way of putting some distance between them. “Jack,” he reminded her. “And yes, I am a perfectionist. I can afford to be—just as I can afford to hire the very best and expect them to give me precisely what I want.”
She didn’t cave, not one inch. Instead, she continued to gaze at him with those ancient, deep-set eyes, eyes that seemed to alter color with her every mood change. Right now, they reminded him of tarnished gold. “In that case I’ll have to see that you get your money’s worth.”
His gaze dropped to her mouth, a mouth full and lush and red, and more enticing than the legendary apple Eve had offered Adam. “I’ll hold you to that,” he warned.
Temptation beckoned, urging him to take a bite of sin. He didn’t bother resisting. Something about this woman made him want to stake his claim, to gather up all that passion and energy she tried so hard to hide and allow it to storm through him. He’d been so cold for so long. He needed her heat, needed to feel the flames of desire. To—just this once—release the rigid control which governed every aspect of his life. What harm would this one time make?
Was she as curious as he to see where their embrace took them? He could spare her the suspense. He’d accomplished step one of his marriage project. He’d hired a nanny who would put his niece’s best interests first and stick around long enough to satisfy CPS. Now for step two. To engage her emotions just enough that she’d cave to the insanity of marrying him.
He lowered his head and captured her mouth with his. He half expected Annalise to yank free of the embrace, but to his relief, she didn’t resist. Nor did she burn with the same fire sweeping through him. Instead, she responded with a heady delicacy. Her mouth turned soft and responsive, yielding for those first seconds. Then her lips parted ever so cautiously, and she deepened the kiss.
Rational thought disintegrated. All he could think about was the woman in his arms and how quickly he could strip away the layers of clothing until burning flesh collided with burning flesh. He skated his hands down her back and cupped her lush backside, pulling her more fully against him. His groan slid from his mouth to hers.
A soft moan hummed in her throat and she slid her hands across his chest to his shoulders. “Jack…”
The sound of his name, overflowing with feminine desire, swept away the final remnants of his self-control. He urged her backward across the room toward the padded window seat overlooking his cloistered garden. The back of her legs bumped against the half-wall and she teetered on the edge of tumbling. He grinned against her mouth, preparing to follow her down onto the thick cushions, when an unmistakable noise distracted him. The sound of weeping crackled through the baby monitor clipped to his belt.
He released Annalise, and for an endless second their gazes locked and held. Shock and disbelief glittered in her eyes, though whether directed at his actions or her own, he couldn’t quite tell.
The breath exploded from her lungs and she shook her head. “Oh, no. Hell, no. This is not going to happen ever again, Mr. Mason. Are we clear on that point?”
“Crystal. And just so you know?” He traced a finger along the curve of her cheek and watched as her eyes overflowed with helpless desire. She fought it, but it was there for him to see. “It will happen again, for one reason and one reason only.”
Her chin shot up. “And what’s that?”
“I doubt either of us will be able to keep our hands off each other.”
With that, he turned and left the room, unwilling to admit even to himself how difficult he found the choice.
Three
Isabella crouched in the middle of the large bed, lost amid the piles of pillows, dolls and stuffed animals. He crossed to sit on the edge of the bed. Annalise appeared in the doorway behind him and stepped hesitantly into the room.
“Hey, Baby Belle,” he murmured. It had been his sister’s nickname for her daughter and using it often helped soothe Isabella. “All done with your nap?”
She stared up at him, her green eyes dewy wet and far too resigned for a child of five. She nodded in response to his question before turning her attention to Annalise. To Jack’s surprise his niece didn’t scream as she often did with the other nannies he’d hired. Nor did she appear the least interested. Instead, she stared with apathetic acceptance. He sighed. Too many changes in too short a period of time.
“Isabella, this is Annalise. She’s your new nanny. The three of us are going to spend the day together getting to know each other.”
Recalling Annalise’s concern about the room, Jack swept a swift assessing glance around. Now that he looked—really looked—the place resembled nothing more than a toy store that had exploded in messy exuberance. She was right. The kaleidoscope of colors created an agitated blur that didn’t allow the eye to settle. Why the hell hadn’t he noticed it before?
“You know—” he offered tentatively “—it’s pretty crowded in here, isn’t it? There’s hardly any room for you, let alone all these toys. I wonder if your new nanny can fix that problem.”
No response from his niece, but Annalise caught the ball he lobbed in her direction and put it in play. “You’re right, Jack. It is too crowded in here.” She t
ook a seat on the floor, folding her lanky frame so her height wouldn’t seem as intimidating. “I’ll bet your toys would like to have their own room so they’re not so uncomfortable crammed in here. What do you think, Isabella? Shall we pick out a special room where your dolls can stay when you’re not playing with them?”
A debate raged in vivid detail across Isabella’s face. She shot Jack a questioning glance. At his smile of encouragement, she nodded in agreement.
“Why don’t you pick out your favorite dolls and put them on the bed,” Annalise suggested, pitching her voice so it remained calm and nonthreatening. “They’ll stay here with you. Then we’ll pick out a special room for the others.”
Isabella hopped off the mattress and made a beeline across the room. She seized a porcelain doll that had seen better days and placed it with great care on the bed. To Jack’s amazement, she turned and faced Annalise, waiting for the next instructions.
“That’s the only one?” he prompted. He couldn’t explain why he was so horrified when she nodded. “If you want another—”
Annalise shook her head in silent warning. “What about the stuffed animals?” she asked. “Are there any who should stay with your doll?”
This time Isabella gathered up three: a threadbare puppy, a cashmere-soft kitten and a ferocious lion. Over the next half hour, Annalise worked her way through each type of toy until the favorites had been whittled down to a select couple dozen.
When she’d finished, Jack found he had to swallow hard before speaking. “They’re all the toys she brought from home,” he commented in a rough undertone. “She’s spent three full months here with hundreds of brand-new toys and all she wants—”
To his horror, he couldn’t finish his comment. Fresh grief welled up inside, ripping through him. What was money in comparison to Joanne and Paul? What were all these toys he’d drenched his niece in, compared to the lives of her mother and father? He’d trade every penny of his billions to have his sister and her husband alive and well. But that wasn’t possible. And so Isabella clung to the tattered remains of that old life while he clung to Isabella.
Beside him, Annalise gathered his hand in hers and squeezed gently. She waited until he’d regained his self-control before continuing. “Anything you’ve forgotten about?” she asked Isabella.
There was a momentary hesitation and then she darted to the small bedside table and snatched up a picture frame, hugging it close. It was too much. Jack was at Isabella’s side in an instant, lifting her into his arms. He took a seat on her bed and cradling her close. “Don’t worry about your pictures,” he murmured. “They all stay in here. Every last one of them.”
Gently he pried the frame from her grasp so they could both study the photo. Joanne and Paul beamed out at them, a slightly younger version of Isabella tucked protectively between the two. He ran his index finger over his sister’s image. Memories crashed over him like waves advancing before a storm front.
“Your mom and I looked alike, didn’t we?” he managed to ask his niece. Not that he expected a response. To his surprise, she leaned her slight weight against him and nodded.
His sister’s rich, brown hair was a couple shades lighter than his, the highlights more red than the gold that streaked his own hair. But they shared the same facial features—straight, bold noses, full mouths, squared jawlines. Even the direct intensity of Jo’s black eyes was identical to what he saw reflected in his mirror each day. These were characteristics they’d inherited from their mother, something that connected the three of them.
“God, I miss her,” he said. Isabella curled tighter into his embrace and he could feel her shoulders tremble, feel the dampness of tears soaking into his shirt. He wrapped her up close and planted a kiss in her matted curls. “We’ll get through this, Baby Belle. I swear we will. You and I are going to be a family. It won’t be the same as it was. But we’ll figure it out. Somehow we’ll manage.”
He didn’t know how long they clung to each other. Throughout it all, Annalise remained quiet and motionless, giving them the time they needed to weather the storm. When the last hiccupped sob had long faded, Jack drew Isabella to her feet. His hand swallowed hers as he led her to the bedside table. Carefully, he returned the photo to its place of honor.
He crouched beside her. “They’ll always be watching out for you, Isabella. Just like I will. Okay?”
Isabella nodded solemnly. Then Annalise crossed to join them. “Why don’t we go find that special room for the rest of your toys?” The gentle suggestion came at the perfect moment, helping to distract them from their sorrow. “Anytime you want one of the toys from that room, you can trade them. That means you pick one of the toys from in here and put it in the special room and take the toy you’d like to play with instead and bring it in here to live with you. Is that all right?”
Isabella sought Jack’s reassurance before nodding. Over the next hour, they made a production of choosing the perfect “special room” and transferring toys. When they were done, his niece’s room had been transformed from a toy store into a peaceful, uncluttered bedroom. Her favorite toys decorated the shelves lining her room, each assigned a place of honor. He noticed that all the books remained, as well as a small play station that contained puzzles, coloring books and other educational toys.
“Makes quite a difference, doesn’t it?” Annalise murmured. “This gives her a safe haven that should help her relax.”
“Instead of a place guaranteed to agitate.”
He glanced at her, driven to mention what had happened in the playroom. Before he could, she spoke again. “Did the caseworker see Isabella’s room with all the toys?”
He grimaced. “Yes.”
To his surprise she rested a hand on his arm and gave a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t worry. I’m sure it will help once she sees the changes you’ve made.”
It was the second time they’d touched since their embrace in the playroom. Not that she seemed aware of that fact. He wound one of her curls around his finger and tugged. “The changes you’re making, don’t you mean?”
She stilled and her pulse fluttered at the base of her neck. Standing this close he could see the smooth, rich texture of her skin, the color a gorgeous creamy shade accentuated by her dark hair. The attraction he felt drew him, even as he fought to hold himself at a distance. He shouldn’t be experiencing these emotions. They weren’t part of the plan. And yet, they were undeniable. What the hell would happen once they eventually married?
If they married, he hastened to correct himself. He had a long path to walk from here to the altar. Considering Annalise’s willful nature, it wouldn’t be an easy one.
As though underscoring that point, she eased free of his touch and focused her attention where it belonged…on Isabella. “I couldn’t have made any changes if you weren’t here to reassure your niece and lend support.” She shot him a warning look. “Nor will I be able to make any more if we’re not in agreement on how our…relationship should progress from here.”
He had to give the woman credit. Subtle, yet direct. Too bad she hadn’t chosen to enter the business world. She’d have been a natural. “So, what’s next on the agenda?” he asked with a calm he didn’t come close to experiencing.
“Lunch, I hope.” A swift smile flashed. “Dare I suggest something casual, either al fresco or in the kitchen?”
“We’ll eat on the patio. Sara’s not too keen on having her kitchen invaded,” he explained.
The choice proved a rousing success. The serene location had a beneficial effect on Isabella. After they arranged for a place setting for her doll, she ate without protest or tears, and afterward played beneath a nearby tree, rocking her “baby” while humming tuneless reassurances.
“It won’t last,” Annalise offered. She dipped a hand in a glass bowl containing a selection of olives and popped one in her mouth. “I just want to warn you so you don’t get your hopes up.”
“And here I was assuming you had waved your magical wand an
d fixed all our problems.”
She cocked an eyebrow. “Sorry. The fairy godmother association hasn’t issued me my official wand yet. Until they do, we’ll have to handle this the old-fashioned way.”
“Hard work and luck?” he guessed.
“Mmm. We were lucky today. Tomorrow…?” She shrugged. “Who knows? I do have another suggestion, however.”
“Go on.”
“If there’s any way you can arrange it, we should institute step two as soon as possible. Can you take a couple weeks off sometime in the near future?”
“And go where?” A hint of cynicism crept into his voice. “The Caribbean? Hawaii? Europe?”
“Is that what you think I’m after? A free vacation?” Laughter brightened her eyes. “No way, ace. I’m talking low-key. A little bungalow on one of the islands around here. Someplace modest where the three of us are tripping all over each other so we’re forced to bond.”
“Dangerous, all that bonding.”
Color dotted her cheeks and he could see the reflection of those moments in the playroom mirrored in her eyes. “Focus, Mason. I’m talking about bonding with Isabella,” she stated tartly. “Once we’ve spent some quality time together, we can come back here. It would help if you could transition to working part-time and hang around here with your niece the rest of the day.”
“Hell, honey. If I do all that, what am I paying you for?”
Annalise didn’t take offense, though her chin jerked upward an inch in open challenge. “You’re paying me to help Isabella adjust to a brand-new life, a life she didn’t expect or want or ask for. You’re paying me to get CPS off your back, although you neglected to mention that small detail during our interview.”
“Sorry.” He scrubbed his hands across his face. “You’re right, of course. I’m not handling this well. Blame it on exhaustion.”
It took her a minute to work out the reason. “Isabella’s nightmares?”
