Baby for the Billionaire(55)
“Of course not.” He checked his watch and frowned. “I was planning to take you home at lunchtime.”
Annalise shook her head. “That won’t work. There’s too much going on here, too much excitement. It’s getting Isabella riled up. We should leave now, and then I need you to sit quietly with her for a time and explain who and what I am. It would help with the transition.”
Jack frowned. “You haven’t already done that?”
He caught her unexpected flash of temper before she reined it in. “You’re her uncle, which makes you the authority figure,” she explained. “Isabella needs you to organize her world and then set the boundaries for that world. At school—even at day care—children learn very quickly that the teacher is in charge of them and the classroom, but that the principal oversees the entire school and is the ultimate authority figure. If you’re putting me in charge—as the teacher—you, as the principal, have to be the one to explain the rules so she knows that you back me up and that she’ll be sent to the principal’s office if she doesn’t behave appropriately toward the teacher.”
“Fine. I can take care of that right now.”
Annalise shook her head. “There are too many distractions here. It’s better to do it in the setting where we’re going to spend most of our time.”
“I have a full schedule today.”
Her mouth took on a stubborn slant. “No, right now you have a family obligation that takes precedence over your full schedule.”
“Damn it.” He allowed himself an entire ten seconds to stew. “You’re right, of course. I don’t like that you’re right. But, Isabella comes first.”
She didn’t attempt to disguise her relief. “You have no idea how happy I am to hear you say that.”
“Go pack her up. Tell the sitter he can leave. I’m sure he’ll be only too happy to run for the nearest exit.” He lifted an eyebrow. “You sure you don’t want to join him?”
Stark emotion shifted through her gaze, rousing his curiosity. For some reason his niece had made quite an impact on Annalise. He’d seen that look in others when they’d seized on a project or an idea that touched them in some way. In just the short time since he’d hired his new nanny, she’d bonded with Isabella and would do whatever necessary to make certain the relationship worked.
“I’m staying,” she said quietly, confirming his conjecture.
For the first time Jack felt a stab of genuine hope. So far, so good. “Thank you, Annalise.”
Once his PI had gone over her background and given the all clear, Jack would move his marriage project to the next stage. In the meantime, if Annalise became emotionally connected to Isabella, so much the better. It might make her more amenable to his proposal. All he had to do was find the right buttons to push to convince her to cooperate, something he hoped the investigation might assist in uncovering.
The ride to his home was accomplished in blissful silence. Isabella went into her booster seat without a word—or rather, sound—of complaint. He wished it signaled an improvement, but he suspected she was merely resting up for the next round.
Heading into the South of Broad neighborhood of Charleston, Jack turned onto Battery and hit the remote control for the electric gates. Beside him, Annalise reacted to her first glimpse of Lover’s Folly with a soft gasp. “Home sweet home,” he murmured. “Hope you like it.”
Whatever facade she’d managed to don over the past few hours crumbled. “You live here? This is your home?”
Even he had to admit the four-story, nearly eleven-thousand-foot residence created quite an impact. Meticulously renovated over the past several decades, it boasted views of Charleston Harbor and James Island, and was listed as an exceptional example of historic architecture.
“It’s called Lover’s Folly, and I inherited it from my paternal grandmother, much to my father’s annoyance. He assumed he was next in line to own the place. It’s been in the family since the mid-nineteenth century, a decade or so before the War Between the States. My ancestors bought it from the original owner.”
“Why is it called Lover’s Folly?”
He pulled his Jaguar into the two-story brick carriage house, the structure large enough to house a half dozen vehicles, if he were given to that sort of excess. His housekeeper, Sara, shared the two bedroom apartment above the garage with her husband, Brett, who was employed as the gardener and general handyman.