Inherited:OneChild(29)

A spark of anger appeared, at war with her self-control. She folded her   arms across her chest. "And then what, Jack? Have Isabella's life   upended again when they put her into foster care? Or even worse, stick   her into a treatment program?"

He lifted a shoulder in a negligent shrug. "Once she was out of my control you'd have a better shot at getting custody of her."

Fury blossomed, full-throttled and magnificent. "That's what you think   this is all about? You think I want to take her away from you?"

His anger rose to meet hers. "What am I supposed to think? In all this   time, never once did you bother to say, 'Oh, hey, Jack, just so you   know, Isabella's my biological daughter.'" He stalked closer. "Did you   think I'd never find out?"

"I was going to tell you!"

"Right. Now that we're safely married and you're in an even better position to fight for legal custody."

She went nose to nose with him. "Is that your real opinion of me? After   all this time together, you don't know me better than that?"

The ache was almost more than he could bear. "I thought I did," he whispered. "But you lied."

"I never lied. I just didn't tell you all of it." She dared to splay her   hand across his chest. Could she still feel his heart beating? It   wasn't possible. Not when it had been turned to stone. "Would you have   refused to marry me if I'd told you beforehand?"

"I don't know." The confession was ripped from him. "But at least I would have been in a position to make an informed choice."

Her hands dropped to her sides, stealing away the only warmth left to   him. She stepped backward. "Then let me make this easy for you." She   took another step away from him. "I'll narrow your choices down to two.   We can stay married and work through this, or we can divorce."

"And if I want a divorce?"

For the first time, her composure cracked. No, it more than cracked. It   shattered. He found that shattering all the more devastating because   he'd never seen her lose control to that extent before. She fought the   loss for ten full seconds before managing to grind out a reply. "When we   first met I had serious doubts about whether or not you were the   appropriate person to raise Isabella. I don't have any doubts about that   anymore."                       
       
           



       

He froze. "What the hell does that mean?"

"I think you're an amazing father, Jack," she said. "There's not a   single doubt in my mind that she'd not just be safe with you, but that   she'll thrive in your care. I won't contest a divorce. Nor will I   attempt to take her away from you."

"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.