"It's not quite as modest as you requested," Jack warned. "But I think it'll do."
"I'm sure it'll be perfect."
Her quiet confidence in his abilities affected him more than he cared to admit. He was thirty years old with a first-class education. He came from one of the oldest families in all of Charleston. He owned and operated a billion-dollar international company with countless employees at his beck and call, most of whom were confident in his overall abilities. But for some reason, he responded to Annalise's admiration like a cat being presented a bowl of cream. If he wasn't careful, he'd start purring.
"Part of the problem is that I need someplace that will allow me Internet access so I can stay in touch with the office."
"Of course," she agreed. "Perfectly understandable."
"And a location that protects our privacy."
"An unfortunate aspect of your position in life."
"Luckily, I have a friend who owns an estate with a guesthouse right on the water. He's in Europe for the summer, so we're welcome to stay for as long as we want. It's only two bedrooms, but it has a kitchen." A sudden thought struck. "Do you cook?"
"Yes."
"Okay, now for the important question. Are you willing to? I realize it's not part of your duties, but I'd be happy to compensate you for the additional work."
"That's not necessary." Annalise turned her head to stare out the window. "I'm happy to help out."
"And yet, you sound annoyed." A sudden thought struck, one he could scarcely credit. "Have I offended you by offering to pay you extra?" he asked.
Annalise released a sigh and shifted in her seat to face him again. "Yes. The ridiculous part is, I can't figure out why."
Maybe not, but he could. "It's because of what happened yesterday. In the playroom," he clarified.
She stiffened. "You mean when we-" She broke off and spared Isabella a quick look. "You know."
"Yes, I mean when we you know. The 'you knowing' blended business with personal."
"Then I suggest we unblend them since there won't be any more of either 'you,' let alone 'know,' ever again."
He shrugged. "We can try, though I doubt we'll succeed. How do you take the color green and turn it back into blue and yellow? We can say we're going to keep all the colors separate, that we'll resist the temptation to … er … blend. But I can't even offer to compensate you for the extra duties you'll be taking on these next couple weeks without it offending you."
"I'll get over it, just as I'll get over the urge to do anymore blending."
"Be sure to tell me how that works for you. I'm afraid I'm still a vivid shade of green."
An attractive blush tinted her cheeks. She deliberately twisted around and engaged in a one-sided conversation with Isabella. He didn't push. There'd be plenty of time over the next couple of weeks to tempt her with more blending. Even if he couldn't engage her on a personal level, he hoped she'd become so attached to Isabella that she'd be willing to accept his proposal for his niece's sake. He just needed to find the right lever that would tip the scales in his favor.
He ignored the small prick of conscience that prodded him for his cold-blooded plan. He couldn't afford a conscience, not if he wanted to keep custody of Isabella. If his father had taught him nothing else in life, Jonathan Mason had proved himself an expert instructor on how to pursue one's goals with ruthless disregard. Nothing mattered but the end results. Not compassion. Not kindness. Not any of the gentler emotions.
Jack had been brought up with a single motto: No matter what it takes. And that was how he would respond to his custody battle. When it came to Isabella, he would do whatever he had to, no matter what it took.
He pulled into a broad drive, guarded by a ten-foot-high stone wall and a high-tech electronic security gate. He keyed in the code Taye had given him and, once the wrought-iron doors swung open, drove toward a mansion even more elaborate than his own. Beside him, Annalise's jaw dropped. He turned down a narrow, graveled pathway, just wide enough for his Jag, and followed it for several hundred yards to a bungalow snuggled between beach and marsh.
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."