Baby for the Billionaire(38)

He’d said the exact right thing. Her smile nearly blinded him as she approached the bed. He grabbed Madam by her collar and wrestled her toward the end of the mattress in order to give Annalise room. She slid beneath the covers next to Isabella and the three of them reclined side by side, against mounds of pillows. He opened the Mrs. Pennywinkle book and cleared his throat.

“‘It was a cold winter day when the magical china doll, Nancy, found her way to the next little girl who needed her …’” he began.

Beside him, his niece patted her doll’s back and hugged her closer. “Your doll looks just like the one in the book,” Annalise said in surprise. “Is … is she a Nancy doll?” At Isabella’s nod, a husky tone entered her voice. “No wonder she’s so special. Do you think she’s here to help you like the doll in your storybook?”

Again Isabella nodded, this time pointing to the dog. “You think your Nancy doll sent Madam to you?” Jack asked. When his niece nodded a third time, more emphatically, he exchanged an uneasy glance with Annalise. “Is this going to be a problem?”

“I don’t think so, not unless she starts to believe that her doll can grant wishes.”

“And if that’s what she already believes?”

“I don’t know,” Annalise admitted. “I guess we hope that with the proper amount of love and attention and counseling, she gradually realizes that isn’t the case. I have to admit, I’m a little out of my depth on this one.”

Isabella gave the book an impatient tap and Jack forced himself to relax and offer an apologetic smile. “Sorry, munchkin. I got distracted there. What do you say we start over?”

The next hour passed on wings, ending too soon as far as Jack was concerned. When his bed emptied out so that everyone could dress, so did the warmth, and he decided then and there that Family Bed would become a weekly ritual from this point forward. His cell phone rang just as Annalise herded Isabella toward the kitchen to whip up a batch of pancakes. He checked caller ID and connected the call.

“Yeah, Derek. What’s up?”

“Sorry to call so early in the morning, but the PI’s preliminary report just hit my in-box and I knew you’d like the results ASAP.”

“And?”

“And Ms. Stefano is clean … for the most part.”

Jack spared a quick glance toward the hallway. Girlish laughter slipped out from the direction of the kitchen and he nudged his door closed. “What part isn’t so clean?”

“There was a small matter when she was sixteen. Cops raided some kid’s birthday bash and issued her a citation for underage drinking. They expunged her record after she completed some court-ordered community service. Since then, she’s been so clean she squeaks.”

Jack lowered his voice. “If the record was expunged, how did you get the details?”

“I have my sources. I’m not minimizing what she did, Jack, but it was a long time ago. Her mother had died a couple years before that and her father was in the military at the time. After her brush with the law, he took an early discharge and started up a fishing charter service, I’m guessing so he could assume a more hands-on role. He sent her off each summer to stay with an aunt during tourist season. The aunt’s a school teacher who lives out near Columbia. She’s probably the one who influenced Annalise’s career choice.”

“Did you find anything that might concern CPS?”

“Nothing. I doubt they’ll even dig up as much as I have.” There was a brief pause. “So, how’s it going at your end? Your marriage project moving right along?” he asked a shade too casually.

“It’s coming.”

“Coming … as in soon, though, right?”

Jack let out a long sigh. He knew that tone. “Aw, hell. What do you know that I don’t?”

“The Locke woman’s making noises again. I’ve done everything I can to have her replaced, but apparently she’s irreplaceable.”

“How much time do I have?” Jack asked grimly.

“Let’s see.… Soon would be good. If you and your charming bride-to-be were to show up at the Judicial Center and fill out a marriage application sometime today, you could be wedded and bedded in twenty-four hours. How does that sound?”

“Hell, Derek. That isn’t soon. That’s immediate.”

“Immediate works for me.”

“Well, it doesn’t for me. And I guarantee, it won’t for Annalise.”

“I strongly suggest you find a way for it to work for both of you. Once you’re officially married, I can probably hold off CPS for another month or so, convince them the two of you deserve time to settle into connubial bliss. But that’s as far as I’ll be able to push it. You need to marry now in order for me to insist on any sort of further delay. And then you need to create a loving relationship that’s good enough to pass Mrs. Locke’s scrutiny.”

Jack closed his eyes and ran a hand along the nape of his neck. Damn it to hell. “I’ll try.”

“I suggest you do more than try.”

Jack spent the rest of the day considering and rejecting any number of arguments to present to Annalise, everything from a declaration of undying love—which would leave her laughing herself silly—to the unvarnished truth, which he feared would not only leave him without a bride but without a nanny, as well.

Still … What choice did he have? He couldn’t lie to her. He slanted her a calculating look as they put Isabella down for the night. He needed to find a way to convince his nanny to agree to a coldly logical, if highly offensive, proposal of marriage. But, how?

There was only one way. He’d tell her the truth and hope she’d been serious when she had claimed she’d do everything in her power to help Isabella. “We need to talk,” he informed her, as soon as they finished tucking in his niece.

Annalise regarded him with a worried frown. “Is something wrong?”

He waited until they’d returned to the living room before explaining. “According to my lawyer, I need to marry immediately in order to retain custody of Isabella.”

She stared in shock. “Oh, Jack, is he certain?”

“Very.” He gave it to her straight. “Derek’s held endless conversations with Mrs. Locke and various officials at CPS. Though they haven’t come right out and said I must have a wife, they’re extremely concerned that between my work schedule and Isabella’s issues I’m not the best person to raise her. There’s even been some discussion about placing her in a treatment facility. I won’t let that happen, which means I present them with an acceptable wife who can give Isabella the attention she requires when I’m not available.”

Annalise stared at him, stunned. “But … who are you going to marry? Does Isabella know her? Does she even like her?”

“She adores her.”

That brought her up short. “Oh. Well … Well, that’s good. I don’t quite know what else to say,” she added weakly. “Congratulations?”

“She hasn’t accepted my offer yet.”

Annalise stilled. “Wait a minute. Is this your way of telling me you no longer need my services?” A look of utter devastation swept across her face. “Is your wife—assuming she accepts your offer—is she going to take care of Isabella full-time?”

“Yes and no. I still need your services.” Jack captured an escaped curl, one that tumbled halfway down Annalise’s back, and used it to reel her in. “Just in a slightly different capacity. I hope you’ll consider it a promotion.”

She was quick to put two and two together and come up with the requisite four. He watched shock etch a path across her elegant features. “You don’t mean … You can’t possibly think I—”

“Oh, but I can and I do. Ms. Stefano, I would very much appreciate it if you’d consider exchanging your position as nanny for one as my wife.”

The couch caught her as her knees gave out. “You can’t be serious.”

“I’m dead serious. You may recall that I once told you that I’d do whatever it took to retain custody of Isabella. I also seem to remember you saying something quite similar. I know how serious I was when I made that statement. How serious were you?”

Pain burst to life in her eyes, burning with an intensity that seared straight through to his soul. He accepted it, didn’t attempt to defend against it. He deserved to burn for what he was about to do. And no doubt he would.

“Oh, Jack,” she whispered. “How could you?”

He captured Annalise’s hands in his and drew her to her feet again. “As I’ve informed you more than once, I will do whatever it takes to retain custody of Isabella. But I will also do whatever you ask, give you whatever you demand, in exchange for your agreement to my plan. Please, Annalise. Marry me.”

“No.” She shook her head, the restlessness of her curls revealing the extent of her distress. “I can’t. Anything but that.”

“You’re not already married?” Surely the PI would have uncovered evidence of a husband.

“No, of course not.”