Baby for the Billionaire(32)
Beside him, Annalise relaxed, possibly because the bungalow was an exercise in simplicity in comparison to the main house. “It’s lovely,” she said with all sincerity.
He smiled in satisfaction. “I hoped you’d approve.” He thrust his door open. “Come on. Let’s check it out.”
Even Isabella lost her more typical apathetic mien and showed some enthusiasm. She darted into the bungalow behind him, one arm wrapped around her doll, the other around her stuffed lion. Jack couldn’t help but wonder if the lion was meant as a protector—not that he’d blame her if that were the case. If it added to her sense of security, he’d surround her with a dozen lions.
The front door opened onto a small foyer, which accessed the main living area and a small dining room that he could use as a temporary office. On the far side of the dining room was a snug kitchen. A hallway branched off the living room and he led the parade in that direction, fairly certain they’d find the bedrooms.
Jack opened the first door and a small, rusty “ooh” emanated from behind him. His heart skipped a beat at the sound and he felt a surge of hope. Maybe Annalise was right. Maybe this vacation would turn Isabella around. Maybe it would even get her talking again. He forced himself to stroll casually into the bedroom, not wanting to betray any sort of reaction to that almost-word, afraid it might alarm her.
Isabella followed him in and made a beeline for a huge wooden structure that was part bunk beds and part tree fort. She vanished into one portion of the fort, climbed through trap doors and along secret tunnels, ending up in a bed cradled in the branches of the manufactured “tree,” complete with fabric leaves and stuffed animals hidden in various nooks and crannies. Her vivid green eyes glowed with happiness and Jack realized that nothing had ever given him greater pleasure than the sight of his niece’s beaming face.
“Like it?” he asked, striving to keep all trace of emotion from his voice. She nodded eagerly and her blondish-brown ringlets bobbed around her flushed cheeks. “It’s good to see her hair growing out,” he murmured to Annalise, who came to stand beside him.
“Did they cut it off after the accident?”
He nodded. “According to the pictures I’ve seen, she had beautiful long hair. But there were so many scalp lacerations, the doctors were forced to cut away large chunks of it. It seemed best to even it up and then let it grow out again. I just never realized how much work it would take to keep it from matting.”
Annalise released a chuckle. “The hazards of curly hair, I’m afraid. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been tempted to go for one of those super-short hairstyles Isabella’s sporting.”
He studied her bone structure for a long moment. “You’d look good no matter how you wore it.”
“Thanks.” She actually blushed. “The nice thing is, it’ll give me something in common with Isabella. We can do our hair together.”
He gave a short laugh. “Good luck. That was one of the battles her former nannies fought on a daily basis. She doesn’t like anyone touching her hair.”
“Probably because right after the accident it hurt her scalp. That shouldn’t be a problem any longer.” She spoke with a confidence he hoped would pan out, though he had serious doubts. “I’ll work with her on it.”
Jack examined the room with a frown. “I didn’t realize there would only be children’s beds in here. There’s no way you’ll fit in that tree fort.”
She shrugged. “No big deal. I’ll sleep on the couch in the living room.”
“Let’s check out the other bedroom before we decide.”
She lifted an eyebrow. “Your room? I don’t think so.”
“Relax. I just thought if it had two beds we could move one of them in here.”
Her mouth tilted into a smile. “You sure, Mr. Mason? I could have sworn I saw a distinct green accent coloring that suggestion.”
“Not at all, Ms. Stefano. I’m perfectly satisfied with our current relationship.” He left her to ponder that while he crossed the hallway to the second bedroom. A huge king bed dominated the room. Annalise came to a stumbling halt behind him. “Puts paid to that idea,” he said.
“The couch it is,” she agreed. She spared a quick glance at her watch. “We have a couple of hours until lunchtime. I think I’ll check out the kitchen and see what supplies I’ll need to pick up before then.”
“I asked Taye’s housekeeper to take care of stocking the shelves and refrigerator. If she overlooked anything you think we’ll need, you can call up to the main house and she’ll be happy to have it delivered.”
“Taye?”
“Taye McClintock. He owns the McMansion we passed on our way here.”
Her lips twitched. “And is McClintock a McDreamy, a McSteamy or a McWeeny?”
“McWeeny?” Jack chuckled. Taye had been one of his best friends in college and possessed the face of an angel and the mind of a computer, and was the only man Jack had ever met who could romance a woman into his bed in five minutes flat. “Oh, Taye’s definitely a McWeeny, as I’ll be sure to inform him the next time I see him.”
She stared in horror. “You wouldn’t.”
“Not only would I, but I will.”
A fierce debate raged across her face before she turned on her heel. “I think I’ll unpack the car and get organized.”
He caught her arm. “The organizing can wait. I’ll unpack the car, while you wrestle Isabella into a bathing suit. Then we’ll hit the beach before the rays get too intense.”
The idea clearly appealed and she nodded. “Sold.”
Twenty minutes later, they were out the door and spreading their beach towels on the empty stretch of beach. To his intense interest, Annalise wore a modest two piece in an emerald green that brought out the gold highlights in her eyes. The bottoms were a pair of shorts that skimmed the tops of her thighs and showcased her mile-long legs. The top was equally modest, resembling a cropped tank that left her midriff bare.
If she thought he’d find it less appealing than something scantier, she’d underestimated him. If anything, the outfit teased his senses, whetting his appetite rather than satisfying it. The top fluttered in a flirtatious manner while the bottom clung lovingly to her pert backside and toned thighs. His body clenched and he forced his gaze away. If he was this randy on their first day of vacation, God help him get through the next two weeks.
“I’m going for a quick swim,” he informed Annalise. “Will you keep an eye on Isabella?”
“Of course. That’s why I’m here.”
“For some reason, I’m having trouble remembering that,” he muttered.
The ocean had warmed significantly over the past few weeks of warm, humid weather. He struck out through the gentle swells, working himself hard. By the time he climbed from the water, he’d regained some semblance of control. To his amusement, Annalise and Isabella were busy working on a sand castle. His niece looked up at his approach and waved him over with heartwarming eagerness. She put a plastic shovel in his hands and pointed at the moat they’d started to dig around the castle.
“You want me to help?”
Her broad grin and enthusiastic nod had him setting to the task with a will. Over the next hour they worked diligently, their efforts stymied by the turning tide. The waves crept closer and closer, overflowing the moat and splashing up the sides of the castle ramparts. Isabella shrieked in a combination of protest and laughter, first racing away from the waves then dashing back to prop up the collapsed towers.
Little by little, the sea won the battle. When the final tower toppled, melting into a mere lump of its former glory, Jack gathered up their towels, then scooped his niece into his arms and tossed her over his shoulder, reveling in her laughing squeals of protest. Not even her flailing sandy limbs could curb his pleasure in the changes these few short hours had wrought.
“Time for lunch, munchkin,” he announced.
They took advantage of the outdoor shower, rinsing away the sand before entering through the laundry room off the kitchen. While Annalise and Isabella changed, he raided the refrigerator and put together a selection of sandwiches. Then he headed for the bathroom. By the time he returned, he found his niece dressed and seated at the table eating one of the sandwiches, her hair clinging to her head in tidy, damp ringlets.
“I didn’t hear any screaming,” he murmured to Annalise. “How did you pull that off?”
“I let her help me with mine and then we reversed the process. So far, so good.”
“Thank you,” he said simply.
He didn’t know how else to express his gratitude, except … He hooked her chin with the knuckle of his index finger and started to brush her mouth with his when he suddenly realized what he was doing. He froze and their gazes clashed. Her eyes were wide and startled and her breath escaped her parted lips in a soft gasp.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, inches from her mouth. “I wasn’t thinking. I just wanted to thank you.”
Everything about her teased his senses—her sweet, sweet fragrance, her silken touch, those glorious eyes—making him want to draw her into his arms and consume her, body and soul.