A Baby for the Boss(55)

“What do you need, Jenny?”

Oh, wow, that question had too many answers. Too many pitfalls should she even try to tell him what was in her heart, her mind. So she smiled and said softly, “Doesn’t matter.”

“It does to me,” he said.

Tipping her head to one side, she looked at him and asked, “Since when, Mike?”

“Since I woke up and started paying closer attention.” He took her hand and smoothed his thumb across the back, sliding across her knuckles until she shivered at the contact. “I want you, Jenny. More than anything else in my life, I want you with me.”

Her breath caught in her chest and her heartbeat quickened until it fluttered like a deranged butterfly. To be wanted. It had been the driving force in her life since she was a child. But now, she knew it wasn’t enough. Want wasn’t love.

“You do for now, Mike,” she said quietly. “But what about in five years? Ten?” Shaking her head, she continued, “Want, need, passion, they’re all good things. But without love to anchor them, they fade and drift away.”

“They don’t have to.” He gripped her hand even tighter. “Love is something I’ve avoided, Jenny. Too big a risk.”

She could see what it cost him to admit that, but with her heart hurting so badly, she couldn’t tell him that she was all right and that she understood. “It’s worth the risk, Mike. Because without love, there’s nothing.”

“Need is something. Want is something.”

“But not enough.” Sadly, she pulled her hand free of his, swung her legs out of the water and stood up. Looking down at him, she took a breath and braced herself to give him the hard truth she was only just accepting. “We have a child together, Mike. But that’s all we have.”

She walked back to the hotel and stopped in the doorway to look back at him. He was alone in the starlight, watching her, and it took everything Jenny had to keep walking.



Two days later, things were still tense between Mike and her. She had hoped that after their last conversation at the pool, he would give up and go home. He had to know that nothing was going to come of this. They each needed something from the other that they couldn’t have. Jenny needed Mike to love her. To trust her. Mike needed her to settle for less than she craved.

Her time here at the hotel was almost done. Most of the paintings were completed now and what was left, Christa and Lena could finish on their own. Jenny couldn’t stay much longer. Because Mike refused to leave her side, she had to be the one to leave. She had to get some distance from him before she did something stupid like rush into his arms and accept whatever crumbs he was willing to offer.

The cacophony of sound at the hotel was familiar now and Jenny half wondered if the silence of her apartment once she was home again would feel stifling. Between the men talking, the tools buzzing and crashing, and the roar of Jet Skis on the river, it was hard to hear yourself think. But in her case lately, maybe that was a blessing.

“Jenny! Jenny, where are you?”

Up on the second-story landing, Jenny was just adding a few finishing touches to the naked tree sprawled across the elevator doors when she heard that familiar voice booming out over the racket.

“Uncle Hank?” she asked aloud. Setting her paintbrush aside, she quickly went down the stairs and spotted her uncle, Betty right beside him, taking a good look around the front lobby.

“There she is,” Betty shouted over the construction noise and used her elbow to give Hank a nudge in the ribs for good measure.

The older man’s face brightened as he grinned and came toward her.

“Uncle Hank, what’re you doing here?”

To her surprise, the usually stoic man gave her one hard hug, then let her go and beamed at her. “Well, Betty and I wanted to see what you were doing out here. Take a look around and see what’s what.”

“Darn fool, we could have caught a plane,” Betty said, scraping her hands across her tangled hair. “But no, he insisted on driving so he could try out his new toy.”

“No point in having a new car if you’re not going to drive it,” Hank pointed out.

“New car?” Jenny looked out the front window and saw a shiny red convertible. She couldn’t have been more surprised. Though he was a wealthy man, Hank had been driving his classic Mercedes sedan for twenty years, insisting he didn’t need anything new when that one ran just fine. Shifting her gaze back to her uncle, she asked, “That’s yours?”

“It is,” he said proudly.

“Like to froze me to death, driving out here with the top down the whole way,” Betty muttered.