“Annalise—”
She shook her head and her mouth compressed, he suspected to keep her lips from trembling. “If you change your mind about the divorce, you know where to find me.” She squared her shoulders and looked him straight in the eye. “But if you decide you want to give our marriage a try, there’s only one way I’ll return to you. And that’s not as Isabella’s nanny or your employee. It will be as your partner. As your wife.”
With that, Annalise turned and stepped into her father’s arms. She clung to him for a long minute while Robert stared at Jack with eyes filled with threat. Without another word, he swept his daughter across the patio and into the house. There they paused, and her gaze clung to an oblivious Isabella a final instant. Not once did she look back at him. Then the door closed behind them with frightening finality.
Jack stood unmoving for an endless moment. How was it possible that in thirty short minutes his life had gone from near perfection, straight to hell? Isabella continued to play with Mister Mayhem, giggling in blissful ignorance at the puppy’s ungainly antics. He took a single step toward her when a voice like shards of glass cut into him.
“You, Mr. Mason, are a complete and total idiot,” Mrs. Locke announced in ringing tones of disgust.
He spun in his tracks. He’d completely forgotten about the caseworker. She continued to sit beneath the canopied portion of the patio. Without taking her gaze from him, she picked up her glass of iced tea with impressive casualness and took a dainty sip.
She offered a sour smile. “Forgot I was here, didn’t you?” He muttered a word that had the woman’s carefully stenciled eyebrows climbing. “I certainly hope you don’t use that sort of language around Isabella on a regular basis,” she said.
“Since she doesn’t talk, I didn’t think it mattered,” he shot back.
To his amazement, Mrs. Locke actually smiled. “I suggest you come and sit down before you fall down.” She hefted the pitcher of tea and splashed some into one of the empty glasses. “Here. Drink this.”
He reluctantly approached, amazed to find himself taking the proffered glass and obediently downing half the contents in one swallow. The sugar rush hit his system and helped clear his head. “So, how’s your morning been so far, Mrs. Locke?” He collapsed into the chair across from the caseworker and stared broodingly at his niece. “Entertaining enough for you?”
“Vastly.”
“Glad you enjoyed yourself. Personally, the last time I had a day this bad I was told my sister and her husband had been killed on a flight I was supposed to have been on with them, and that my niece was hanging on to life by a mere thread.”
“I’m sorry, Jack.” There was no mistaking either her sincerity or her compassion.
He found he couldn’t respond. Instead, he traced his finger along a teardrop bead of condensation trickling down the side of his glass. He struggled to gather himself and determine what his next step should be. Having built his business from scratch, he’d learned the importance of flexibility. He’d been an expert at thinking and organizing quickly, and reacting to fluid situations even faster. Logic and ruthless intent had gotten him through many a crisis. But this …
He couldn’t think at all, let alone act.
“So, did you marry Annalise because you loved her, or in order to get rid of me?” Mrs. Locke asked.
“To get rid of you.” He returned the glass to the table and rubbed at the headache gathering in his temples. “At least, I thought that was the reason.”
“Interesting.”
His head jerked up. “What’s interesting?”
“When I asked Annalise why she’d married you, she said more or less the same thing.”
He had a vivid memory of standing in the kitchen, desperate to hear his wife’s response to Mrs. Locke’s question. The truth came as one more blow. He didn’t even attempt to conceal his pain. It cut too deeply. “She told you that?” he murmured.
“No, she told me that’s why she’d initially agreed to marry you. She said she married you for one reason and one reason only.”
“What?” The word was torn from him before he could prevent it.
Mrs. Locke lifted an eyebrow and pinned him with those bright blue eyes. “Don’t you know?” She dismissed her own question with a wave of her hand. “Of course you don’t, or you’d never have made those ridiculous accusations.”
“Are you going to tell me what she said, or not?” he ground out.
“Not,” came the crisp response. “To be honest, it doesn’t matter what Annalise said. All that matters is what you have to say. Why did you marry your wife, Mr. Mason? I expect a truthful answer and I expect one now.”
The question didn’t require any thought. “Because I love her,” he answered starkly.
Mrs. Locke pushed back her chair. “I’ll give you three days to resolve this situation before rendering my final verdict on Isabella’s custody.”
He lifted his gaze, feeling the protective predator stirring. No one was going to take his niece from him. “Is that a threat?” he asked softly.
Just like Annalise, Mrs. Locke didn’t show the least sign of intimidation. What was it with these women? “Yes, Mr. Mason.” She picked up her purse and tucked it under her arm. “That was a threat.”
It didn’t take three days for Jack to figure out what he intended to do. It didn’t even take him three hours. It just took enough time for him to sit quietly and remember. Remember Annalise and how she’d been from the moment they’d first met. From the day she’d stepped foot in his office, she’d lived and breathed her concern for his niece.
No, not just his niece. Annalise’s daughter.
She hadn’t accepted the position of Isabella’s nanny with the intent of attracting a wealthy husband. It hadn’t been about him at all. All her attention, all her focus, had been directed toward Isabella and helping her child recover from a hideous trauma that had forever changed her young life.
Even by giving Isabella up for adoption, Annalise had proven that she’d put Isabella first and done what was best for his niece. Marrying him had simply been one more step in that process. He might have wanted her focus to widen enough to include him. But that wasn’t her first priority and never would be. Her child was Annalise’s priority. He closed his eyes.
Their child.
His gaze drifted to Isabella and he accepted the inescapable truth. She was his niece and he’d always keep her parent’s memory alive for her. But at some point, he’d stopped thinking of her as an extension of Joanne and Paul, and begun to think of her as part of himself. A vital part.
As though sensing his attention, Isabella’s head jerked up and she looked at him and beamed with happiness. Sweeping Mister Mayhem into her arms, she trotted over to him and climbed into his lap. He hugged her close, inhaling the sweet, baby scent of her. From tragedy had come an existence he’d never believed possible.
It didn’t matter what it took. It didn’t matter what he had to sacrifice. It didn’t even matter that he’d never be first in Annalise’s life or heart. He and Isabella needed her and he’d do whatever necessary to bring his wife home. But there was something he had to do first.
He gathered Isabella close and prayed he’d find the right words. “Do you remember when we talked about finding people to adopt Madam’s puppies, like you were adopted?” he asked.
Isabella nodded, though he could tell she still pouted a bit at the thought.
“Do you also remember me telling you about your other mommy? She’s the one who gave birth to you before you were adopted?” When Isabella nodded again, he rested his cheek against the soft curls crowning her head. He gathered his self-control and spoke gently. Carefully. Lovingly. “There’s something I need to tell you about your birth mommy …”
Jack arrived at the boatyard early that same afternoon. Sun pounded down on him as he walked the weathered planks toward the large charter yacht he’d been informed belonged to Robert Stefano. He saw Annalise’s father before the other man caught sight of him. It gave Jack a few seconds to further assess the man and get some sort of handle on him.
Lean and muscular, Robert Stefano wore cutoff shorts and a sleeveless tee, which made him look all the younger and more virile than when he’d first introduced himself. He didn’t wear a cap and the sun picked out the burnished streaks that were so similar to Isabella’s. He must have realized that he was being watched. His head jerked up and he stiffened, like one predator sensing the presence of another. Slowly, he swung around. Cursing roundly, he stalked down the pier, planting himself square in Jack’s path. He folded his well-muscled arms across an equally muscular chest.
“What the hell are you doing here?” he demanded.
Jack assessed his opponent—who also happened to be his father-in-law. He could take the man if he had to. Maybe. He imitated Robert’s stance. “I’ve come for my wife, even if I have to go through you to get to her. But when I leave, it’s with Annalise. Now, I can do it with your cooperation, or without. Your choice.”