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Baby for the Billionaire(28)

By:Maxine Sullivan


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 took 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—”