Inherited:OneChild(28)

"I assume that's the last straggler? Mayhem?" she asked. "Isn't that what you've dubbed him?"

"Mister Mayhem," he muttered.

"Would you like a glass of sweetened tea?"

The prosaic question ripped him to shreds. It took every ounce of   willpower to hold himself in check, when what he wanted more than   anything was to tip Locke out of his patio chair and chuck her onto the   street so that he could demand his wife repeat to him whatever she'd   told the caseworker. He wanted-needed-to hear why she'd married him. To   know once and for all whether she'd done it just for Isabella or if   maybe, just maybe, she'd believed those vows she'd spoken right here in   his backyard.

To love, honor and cherish …

Annalise tilted her head to one side and a wealth of curls tumbled   across her shoulder. "Tea?" she prompted again in open amusement.

"Thanks, I'd love some." He crossed to her side and dropped a kiss on the top of her head. "Everything okay?"

"Everything's fine."

He took a seat with Mayhem in his lap and tipped the dog onto his back.   He rubbed the puppy's plump belly with his index finger. With a wide   yawn, Mayhem promptly went to sleep, his head, tail and legs splayed in   six different directions.                       
       
           



       

He glared across the table at Mrs. Locke. "Have you finished interrogating my wife?" he asked.

He knew he sounded defensive, just as he had with his father. But this   time he had cause. He had it figured out now. This woman wasn't his   niece's nanny any more than she was his employee. Annalise was his wife,   a woman who'd given herself to him in marriage. Given herself in every   way possible. And he'd do everything within his power to protect her,  to  fulfill those vows he'd taken mere steps from where they sat.

"I just put away my thumbscrews," she replied in a dry voice. "And now I   have one final question before I go visit with Isabella."

He regarded her warily. "Only one?"

"Just one." She leaned forward and set her glass of tea onto the patio   table. "I know why Annalise married you. But I'd like you to explain why   you married your wife. Is this a love match or is this your clever way   of circumventing CPS's objections to your guardianship? Is Annalise  here  to stay, or here until we go away?"

And there it was, Jack acknowledged. The billion-dollar question.

Before he could reply, Sara stepped onto the patio. "Excuse me, Mr.   Mason. There's a gentleman here to see you. He was most insistent-"

Not waiting for either permission or invitation, a tall, lean man in his   late thirties, maybe early forties, strode out onto the patio. He   carried himself with a military bearing. His curly brown hair was   cropped short. A faded cap shaded his deep-set eyes and cast a shadow   across his sun-bronzed face. Though he didn't share Annalise's coloring   and appeared far too young to have a daughter his wife's age, there was   little doubt in Jack's mind that this had to be her father-and his   timing couldn't have been worse.

"I'm Robert Stefano," he announced. "And I'm looking for … " He froze, his eyes arrowing in on Annalise. "Leese?"

"Daddy?" Annalise erupted from her chair and threw herself into the   man's arms. "Finally! I have been trying to reach you for ages."

He gave his daughter a fierce hug. "Didn't you get my message?"

"About your charter? Yes, yes. Bub passed it on. But-"

He held her at arm's length. "I came as soon as I heard the news. Of   course, by the time it reached me, it was long out of date. What the   hell have you gone and done?"

He looked over her shoulder toward Jack, who climbed to his feet and set   the yawning puppy on the ground beside him. "It's a pleasure to meet   you, Mr. Stefano," he said, holding out his hand. "I'm Jack Mason."

To Jack's dismay, his father-in-law swept his daughter behind him in a   protective manner. "Not him, Leese. Tell me there's been a mistake and   you haven't actually married this man."

"Is there a problem?" Mrs. Locke interrupted.

"No problem at all," Jack replied smoothly. His hand dropped to his   side. "You need to leave. Now. This is a family matter and none of your   business."

Of course, she didn't listen. She settled more firmly into her chair.   "If this affects Isabella, it most certainly is my business."

"Mr. Stefano?" Jack approached the other man. "I'm Annalise's husband."

"I know who you are." Robert tore off his cap and crushed it between his   callused hands. "What I don't yet know is what sort of game you're   playing with my daughter."

Annalise stepped out from behind her father, confronting the situation   head-on, just as she had from the moment he'd first met her. "Dad, this   isn't a game."

"You're damn right it isn't." Grief tore into the older man's face.   "Does he know? Does this supposed husband of yours know the truth?"

To Jack's surprise she faltered, her forthrightness stumbling. "No," she admitted. "He doesn't."

Dread swept through him like the first winter breeze. "Somebody tell me what the hell is going on," Jack demanded.

"And then you can explain it to me," Mrs. Locke added.

Robert opened his mouth to reply, but before he could his gaze shifted   and locked onto something in the middle of the lawn. Mister Mayhem   scampered in that direction and Jack saw why. Isabella had exited into   the yard through his study door. She greeted the dog with a crowing   laugh.

"Oh, God," Robert whispered. His cap dropped to the patio flagstones. "Is that her?"

He took a step in Isabella's direction, a step that carried him into the   sunlight. The strong summer rays caught in the short brown curls,   highlighting them with gold. He stared at Isabella, stared at her with   eyes the exact same shade of olive green as those of Jack's niece.   Robert clenched his squared jaw, but couldn't seem to keep it from   wobbling. And then he broke into a broad grin of incandescent delight.   In his cheek a dimple flashed.                       
       
           



       

Without a word, Jack turned toward Annalise. Tears rained down her   cheeks. She caught his look, holding his eyes for an endless moment,   hers assuming a defiant slant. He went to her, stepped with her into the   shadows of the patio overhang, away from listening ears.

"Isabella looks just like your dad. Is she your sister?" Jack questioned in a hard undertone. "Is Robert Stefano her father?"

"I'm an only child," Annalise stated.

An arctic wind blew through him and he could literally see the life he'd built shattering around him. "Then she's-"

"Mine." Annalise squared her shoulders and lifted tarnished eyes to his. "Isabella is my daughter."





Ten




"I t was all a setup, wasn't it?"

"No." Annalise shook her head, speaking with a quiet dignity that cut deep. "No!"

Jack stepped away from her, unable to hide his raw pain and anger. There   was no way he could. His fury battered him with all the elemental  power  of a hurricane, driving emotions he'd always been able to keep  under  rigid control. They whipped free, exploded from him in a messy,   illogical, unmanageable torrent.

"I have to hand it to you. Your plan was absolutely brilliant."

"What plan?" She played the role of the innocent with breathtaking   perfection, reflecting just the appropriate amount of bewilderment. "All   I ever wanted was to make certain Isabella was safe."

"Safe," he repeated. "I didn't realize my reputation was quite that bad."

She dared to fight back. "You know that's not what I meant."

He ignored that and continued the attack with ruthless precision. "Why   did you apply to be Isabella's nanny? You knew she was yours then,   didn't you?" He didn't phrase it as a question.

She lifted her chin, refusing to cower. "Yes."

"What then, Annalise? Were you going to use your position to manipulate   CPS? To push them that final inch in order to convince them I wasn't an   appropriate guardian?"

"Have you lost your mind?" she asked with impressive calm.

He simply shook his head, amazed by her inner fortitude. "I have to hand   it to you. Your logic was flawless. As Isabella's nanny you could   inveigle yourself into my niece's affections. Maybe drop a word or two   of concern in Mrs. Locke's ear."