Baby for the Billionaire(31)
Author: Maxine Sullivan

He settled on top of her, pressing her into the mattress. “That’s the nice part about marriage. You have all those years to spend unwrapping each and every layer.”

If anything his comment alarmed her even more. So much for boxing her in. One glimpse of the opening and she shied away. “What if you don’t like what you find when all the wrapping paper’s off?”

Was she kidding? “That’s not possible,” he stated quite definitely.

“Yes, Jack. It is.” She moistened her lips and he could see her agile mind marshalling her counterarguments. What he didn’t understand was why she found it necessary. “What happens if CPS decides to remove Isabella?”

Did she have any doubt? “We fight to get her back,” he answered promptly. “To prove to them—no matter how long it takes—that we love her and will do whatever we must to give her the best possible home.”

A small frown formed between her brows. “I mean … What happens to us? The entire reason we married was to provide your niece with a stable home. But what happens to our marriage if Isabella isn’t in the picture?”

“Do you think I’ll stop wanting you?”

“Yes,” she replied bluntly.

He shook his head. “That won’t happen.”

Her breath caught and she searched his face. “Are you serious? If they took Isabella away, you’d want our marriage to continue?”

“Isn’t that what you want, too?”

He could see the nak*d longing in her gaze, but it was tempered with caution … and something else. Something that had haunted her from the first time they’d met. Before she could reply, the door banged open and Isabella charged into the room with Madam. A tumble of puppies followed close behind. Jack glanced over his shoulder and stopped the entire menagerie in their tracks.

“That is not the proper way to enter a bedroom,” he informed her in no uncertain terms. “Please take Madam and the puppies and go outside. Knock on the door and wait until you’re invited in before opening the door. Got it?”

His niece stood there, debating whether to turn stubborn or to obey. To his relief, she spun around and shoved at Madam until the dog trotted out of the room. Then she herded the puppies. The instant the door shut behind them, Jack escaped the bed and tossed a nightgown in Annalise’s direction while he donned a pair of drawstring pants.

“I believe you still owe me an answer to my question,” he reminded his wife.

“There’s no time to discuss it right now,” she informed him.

“Tonight, then?”

She worried at that for a minute before releasing a gusty sigh and nodding. “Okay, fine. We’ll talk about it again tonight.”

For some reason, she didn’t look happy about it, and a wintry coldness swept through him. He didn’t know what secrets she kept, but he refused to lose the world she’d built for all of them. He wouldn’t be forced from paradise now that he’d finally found it.

A soft knock sounded at the door of the bedroom, putting an end to the conversation. He opened the door to Isabella who, much to his delight, threw herself into his arms. Madam followed with matronly dignity, which the barking, squabbling puppies spoiled by nipping at her heels and jumping at her tail.

In the six weeks since their birth, they’d put on size and weight at an impressive rate. The vet had been very pleased with their progress during their last checkup and pronounced dame and puppies in excellent health. Jack had already promised three of the pups to eager families of business associates, and he doubted he’d have much difficulty placing the others. He hadn’t told Isabella or Annalise, yet, but he’d already decided that they were going to keep the smallest of the six, a male who made up for his status as runt with a personality bigger than the other five combined. This one, in particular, had won all their hearts. He would also make a good companion dog for Madam.

The next hour passed in a rush as everyone pitched in to gather up the puppies and return them to the room in which they remained penned whenever they couldn’t be watched. After dressing, he, Annalise and Isabella shared their ritual family breakfast before he headed off to the office. If a hint of stiltedness existed between husband and wife, it couldn’t be helped. Whatever the cause, tonight would correct the situation. The instant they finished eating, his niece gave him a farewell kiss then made a beeline for the stairs leading to the bedrooms … and the dogs.

Jack turned to Annalise and held her gaze, forcing himself to use a hint of the ferocity that had helped him turn a small, startup import/export business into a multi-billion-dollar international success story. He aimed it straight in the direction of a lanky, golden-eyed ex-nanny with intoxicating kisses and a heart even larger than his bank account.

“Tonight,” he reminded his wife. “Cards on the table.” He didn’t phrase it as a question.

She gave a steadfast nod. “I told you we would. But, Jack—” Her voice held an unmistakable warning. “You might not like the hand I deal you.”

The doorbell sounded in the distance and his mouth twisted. “I may surprise you.”

He dropped a swift kiss on his wife’s mouth before going to answer the imperious summons. He opened the door, less than pleased to discover the Wicked Witch of all four compass points, plus several in between standing on his welcome mat. Or in her case, his unwelcome mat.

“Mrs. Locke.”

“Mr. Mason.”

He planted himself between her and his home and eyed the birdlike woman. He’d learned during their first meeting just how deceptive appearances could be. She barely reached the middle of his chest and appeared fragile enough for an errant breeze to snap in two. But that was as much a lie as the cheerful, robin’s-egg-blue eyes that blinked sweetly from behind the lenses of her rimless spectacles. She offered a wide, guileless smile that didn’t fool him for one little minute. She was a witch cloaked in the plumage of an innocent sparrow.

The two squared off against each other and Jack launched the first volley. “Did we have an appointment you forgot to arrange?” he asked mildly.

She looked entirely too pleased with herself which put him on instant alert. “It’s called an unannounced home inspection.”

“That’s funny. According to my lawyer, you were supposed to call and arrange a convenient time for a visit.”

“That would have defeated the entire point of the ‘unannounced’ portion of the inspection.” She folded her twig arms across her nonexistent bosom. “Are you going to let me in, or are you going to continue looming there in that threatening manner?”

He narrowed his eyes at her phrasing. She narrowed hers right back at him. He wasn’t sure how the stalemate might have ended if it hadn’t been for Isabella charging toward him with a shriek. Her fingers fluttered in a gesture she used to alert them to a problem with the puppies. Then she yanked on his suit coat.

He turned to Mrs. Locke. “You’ll have to leave. We have an emergency on our hands. That takes precedence over everything else.”

She stiffened and yanked out a cell phone from the purse tucked beneath her arm with impressive speed. “Shall I call 9-1-1?” she asked crisply.

“That won’t be necessary. It’s a—” he hesitated “—dog emergency.”

Mrs. Locke’s brows climbed skyward. “A dog emergency is not an emergency I recognize,” she informed him in a wintry tone. “The inspection will continue.”

Isabella yanked harder at his suit coat and he rested his hand on her head in gentle reassurance. Damn it to hell. Why now, of all days? He regarded Mrs. Locke with a sour expression and gave her two options. “In that case, you may wait here until I’m available, or grace us with your presence at a more convenient time.”

“I’ll stay,” she stated in tones as implacable as his own.

“Jack? Red alert. The puppies are on the loose.” Annalise charged into the hallway and skidded to a halt. “Oh, we have guests.”

Jack grimaced. This grew more complicated by the minute. He’d wanted time to prep Annalise before the two women met. “Mrs. Locke is not a guest. She’s here for an inspection.”

“Mrs. Locke?” To his disgust a broad, welcoming smile swept across his wife’s face. “Isabella’s Mrs. Locke?”

The caseworker inclined her head. “And I assume you’re Mrs. Mason?”

“Oh, please. Call me Annalise.” She held out her hand. “I’m afraid we have a bit of a family emergency going on here.”

“So, I understand. Something to do with dogs?”

Isabella made a frantic noise and Jack interrupted. “Which we need to take care of immediately. Annalise, ask Sara and Brett to scour the first floor. I’ll take the bedrooms. You and Isabella see if anyone’s found their way to the third level. Since this isn’t a scheduled appointment, Mrs. Locke can return at a more convenient time.”

His beautiful, sexy, loyal wife fluttered her lashes at him and turned traitor in the blink of an eye. “I’ll give Sara and Brett the heads-up while you and Isabella check the bedrooms. Mrs. Locke and I will be having some iced tea out on the patio. Once everyone’s rounded up, you can join us there.”

“Excellent suggestion,” Mrs. Locked concurred. “I wanted some private time with your wife, anyway.”

“I— You—”

Annalise smiled in satisfaction. “It’s a plan. I’ll call your office and warn them you’re running behind.” She fished her cell phone out of her pocket and hit a preprogrammed button. “Mary, it’s Annalise. Jack’s going to be late again. What? Oh, yes, of course. The pups on their usual rampage. Expect him when you see him.”

Isabella didn’t give him an opportunity to argue further. Grabbing his hand, she literally towed him in the direction of the steps. The last view he had of his double-crossing wife was her saucy backside vanishing in the direction of the kitchen, accompanied by the smirking Wicked Witch, her broomstick slung over one shoulder.

This was not good. Not good at all. He’d planned to be there the first time Annalise and Locke spoke, to run interference in case they hit any snags. Based on the smug look the caseworker shot him, she’d known it and took great delight in outmaneuvering him. Not that she’d actually been the one to make mincemeat of his plan. He could lay that delightful screwup squarely on his wife.

It took thirty nerve-racking minutes to round up five of the mischievous puppies and return them to the gated bedroom that was their “nest.” Isabella remained with them while he went in search of the last one, the runt of the litter. He found Mister Mayhem, as he’d begun to refer to the dog, on the verge of sneaking out the kitchen door. He scooped up the wriggling bundle of energy before the pup could make good his escape.

From the direction of the patio, he caught the distinctive sound of feminine laughter. He stood there, literally frozen in disbelief. That couldn’t possibly be Mrs. Locke laughing. Not the witch herself. He had no idea how Annalise managed to charm the woman, but he could only thank God it had happened. Then he immediately shook his head.

He did know how his wife had pulled it off. He’d watched her do it with him and Isabella, and every other person she met. She had a knack about her, a natural charm. No, even that wasn’t quite right. She welcomed people in. Even though she’d been hurt, she hadn’t allowed past events to close her down the way he had. She continued to open herself to others, despite the fact that she might get hurt again. The vulnerability remained, reflected in those magnificent eyes of hers. But she gave of herself, anyway.

The laughter had faded and he heard Mrs. Locke say, “So, tell me the truth, Annalise. Why did you marry your husband?”

Jack didn’t think he could have moved if Doomsday itself were unfolding at his feet. Everything within him strained to hear the answer. But when it came, it was spoken so softly he couldn’t catch the words he longed to hear.

He erupted from the kitchen onto the patio, the pup still cradled in his hands. He didn’t know what he’d hoped, perhaps to discover Annalise’s response still lingering on the summer breeze. Maybe to read it in her expression or glittering like gold dust in her eyes. Instead, her head swiveled in his direction and she simply smiled. Just that. A smile that made his heart stand still and left him more helpless and out of control than he’d ever been in his entire life.

“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.