Inherited:OneChild(9)

"Hard work and luck?" he guessed.

"Mmm. We were lucky today. Tomorrow … ?" She shrugged. "Who knows? I do have another suggestion, however."

"Go on."

"If there's any way you can arrange it, we should institute step two as   soon as possible. Can you take a couple weeks off sometime in the near   future?"

"And go where?" A hint of cynicism crept into his voice. "The Caribbean? Hawaii? Europe?"

"Is that what you think I'm after? A free vacation?" Laughter brightened   her eyes. "No way, ace. I'm talking low-key. A little bungalow on one   of the islands around here. Someplace modest where the three of us are   tripping all over each other so we're forced to bond."

"Dangerous, all that bonding."

Color dotted her cheeks and he could see the reflection of those moments   in the playroom mirrored in her eyes. "Focus, Mason. I'm talking about   bonding with Isabella," she stated tartly. "Once we've spent some   quality time together, we can come back here. It would help if you could   transition to working part-time and hang around here with your niece   the rest of the day."

"Hell, honey. If I do all that, what am I paying you for?"

Annalise didn't take offense, though her chin jerked upward an inch in   open challenge. "You're paying me to help Isabella adjust to a brand-new   life, a life she didn't expect or want or ask for. You're paying me to   get CPS off your back, although you neglected to mention that small   detail during our interview."

"Sorry." He scrubbed his hands across his face. "You're right, of course. I'm not handling this well. Blame it on exhaustion."

It took her a minute to work out the reason. "Isabella's nightmares?"

He nodded. "It's hard to get her settled afterward. I'm down to about   five hours a night. She can sleep during the day to make up for it, but I   can't."

"That explains a lot. Isn't there someone who can cover for you at   night? What about the woman you mentioned during the interview?" She   fumbled for a name. "Mrs. Walters?"                       
       
           



       

"She's here five to ten but refuses to live in. And I've had enough   trouble finding someone for the day shift without running the risk of   losing Walters. I need her for those occasions I work late or have a   meeting out of town. Besides, the nights I'm with Isabella … " His mouth   compressed. "You've talked about my bonding with my niece. Well, the   nights when I sit with her, comforting her while she drifts back off to   sleep, those are the times we come closest to bonding."

Annalise nodded in perfect understanding. "And you don't want to give them up."

"No." His response caused a hint of relief to flicker across her face.   His back teeth clenched. "My guardianship of Isabella isn't just about   duty, Ms. Stefano, despite what you clearly believe."

A smile quivered at the corners of her mouth. "Do you realize that whenever you're annoyed with me, you revert to formality?"

"Take it as a warning."

Annalise's smile grew and Jack stared in disbelief. Why didn't she react   the way every other intelligent person within his sphere of influence   did when confronted with the predatory side of his nature? She should  be  quaking in her sensible flats. She should be utterly intimidated by  the  slightest frown. Hell, she should be doing precisely what he said   without a single word of argument. Instead, she helped herself to   another olive and popped it in her mouth as though lounging across from a   man capable of destroying her world was an everyday occurrence.

"Do you have no sense of self-preservation?" he demanded.

She blinked, mildly startled. "Excuse me?"

"You are familiar with my name, I assume? With my reputation?"

She frowned. "Sure. Who isn't?"

"What, may I ask, do you know about me?"

She shrugged. "You're thirty. You're rich. Powerful. You were supposed   to go into the family business with your father. Instead you walked   away. When you were cut off from the Mason purse strings, you built an   import/-export empire from scratch that succeeded in eclipsing your   father's in the business world. You've been linked, romantically, with   some of the most beautiful women in the world." She blinked at him in   open bewilderment. "Is it important that I know your history? Will it   help somehow with Isabella?"

He gritted his teeth. "No, but it should help in our dealings."

Her eyes narrowed, then widened. Her mouth gave another betraying quiver   before she bit down on her lip to suppress it. "I'm so sorry, Mr.   Mason. Have I neglected to treat you appropriately?"

"Instant obedience to my every whim would be appreciated," he responded dryly.

A gurgle of laughter escaped. She leaned forward and pitched her voice   to an ingratiating purr. "Very well, sir. Your every wish is my command,   no matter how boring and tedious all that instant gratification may   become."

He fought for a control that should have come without thought or effort.   But ever since Annalise had entered his life with her distinctive   hip-swinging stride, that control had eluded him. He couldn't help   himself. He released a barking laugh, unable to recall the last time   he'd felt such genuine amusement. Isabella's head jerked up and she   stared at him in open disbelief, as though the sound was not only   unheard of, but downright impossible. Sorrow caused his humor to fade.   Was his laughter really such a rare occurrence?

Annalise followed the progression of his thoughts with uncomfortable   accuracy. "Okay, I get it. You're a ruthless businessman. But who are   you to Isabella? How do you want her to respond to you, Jack? Should she   fear you, or should she look on you as her kind and loving uncle?"

He shook his head. "It's not like I have a choice. I am what I am."

"Are you saying you're incapable of kindness? Of love?"

He turned his gaze on her, one he didn't doubt reflected the wintry   coldness that seized hold. "Those qualities were eradicated long ago.   What I can give my niece is a home, financial security and as much   attention as I can spare."

"Got it. That sounds a lot like duty and obligation to me. And yet, not   two minutes ago you claimed that wasn't why you took Isabella in. You   might want to consider which is most accurate." She fixed him with an   unwavering stare. "And I suggest you choose one that CPS will buy."

"You want me to lie?"

"Right now, I'm not sure even you know what's truth and what's lie."

He swore beneath his breath and surged to his feet. He'd had enough of   this touchy-feely stuff. Time to take control, and this time he wouldn't   let Annalise wrest it away again. "I think we need to discuss what   happened earlier in the playroom."                       
       
           



       

His comment struck a nerve. She deliberately turned her head in   Isabella's direction. His niece remained fully engaged with her doll. "I   believe I already addressed that issue. It won't happen again."

"Time will tell."

She followed his example and thrust back her chair. He couldn't begin to   imagine the amount of inner fortitude it took for her to stand and  face  him. But somehow she did it. "I have no excuse for what took place   earlier. I will tell you I'm no stereotype, despite that unfortunate   incident. You're paying me to take care of your niece, not be your   mistress. Decide now, Mr. Mason. Which do you want? A nanny or a   mistress?"

"And if both roads end up in the same place?"

"I'll quit before I become your mistress. Is that clear enough?"

"Quite." He leaned his shoulder against one of the beams supporting the   wooden canopy that shaded the patio and folded his arms across his   chest. "There's only one small problem."

"Which is?"

Her poise wasn't as secure as she'd like to pretend. He'd always been   excellent at reading people and Annalise proved no exception. He caught   the slightest quaver of her voice and the helpless balling of her  hands.  Even more telling, the pulse in her throat fluttered like a moth   struggling to throw itself into the flames. And like that moth, she  was  irresistibly drawn to something guaranteed to deliver her into the  arms  of certain disaster.