Baby for the Billionaire(66)
“And yet, you sound annoyed.” A sudden thought struck, one he could scarcely credit. “Have I offended you by offering to pay you extra?” he asked.
Annalise released a sigh and shifted in her seat to face him again. “Yes. The ridiculous part is, I can’t figure out why.”
Maybe not, but he could. “It’s because of what happened yesterday. In the playroom,” he clarified.
She stiffened. “You mean when we—” She broke off and spared Isabella a quick look. “You know.”
“Yes, I mean when we you know. The ‘you knowing’ blended business with personal.”
“Then I suggest we unblend them since there won’t be any more of either ‘you,’ let alone ‘know,’ ever again.”
He shrugged. “We can try, though I doubt we’ll succeed. How do you take the color green and turn it back into blue and yellow? We can say we’re going to keep all the colors separate, that we’ll resist the temptation to … er … blend. But I can’t even offer to compensate you for the extra duties you’ll be taking on these next couple weeks without it offending you.”
“I’ll get over it, just as I’ll get over the urge to do anymore blending.”
“Be sure to tell me how that works for you. I’m afraid I’m still a vivid shade of green.”
An attractive blush tinted her cheeks. She deliberately twisted around and engaged in a one-sided conversation with Isabella. He didn’t push. There’d be plenty of time over the next couple of weeks to tempt her with more blending. Even if he couldn’t engage her on a personal level, he hoped she’d become so attached to Isabella that she’d be willing to accept his proposal for his niece’s sake. He just needed to find the right lever that would tip the scales in his favor.
He ignored the small prick of conscience that prodded him for his cold-blooded plan. He couldn’t afford a conscience, not if he wanted to keep custody of Isabella. If his father had taught him nothing else in life, Jonathan Mason had proved himself an expert instructor on how to pursue one’s goals with ruthless disregard. Nothing mattered but the end results. Not compassion. Not kindness. Not any of the gentler emotions.
Jack had been brought up with a single motto: No matter what it takes. And that was how he would respond to his custody battle. When it came to Isabella, he would do whatever he had to, no matter what it took.
He pulled into a broad drive, guarded by a ten-foot-high stone wall and a high-tech electronic security gate. He keyed in the code Taye had given him and, once the wrought-iron doors swung open, drove toward a mansion even more elaborate than his own. Beside him, Annalise’s jaw dropped. He turned down a narrow, graveled pathway, just wide enough for his Jag, and followed it for several hundred yards to a bungalow snuggled between beach and marsh.
Beside him, Annalise relaxed, possibly because the bungalow was an exercise in simplicity in comparison to the main house. “It’s lovely,” she said with all sincerity.
He smiled in satisfaction. “I hoped you’d approve.” He thrust his door open. “Come on. Let’s check it out.”
Even Isabella lost her more typical apathetic mien and showed some enthusiasm. She darted into the bungalow behind him, one arm wrapped around her doll, the other around her stuffed lion. Jack couldn’t help but wonder if the lion was meant as a protector—not that he’d blame her if that were the case. If it added to her sense of security, he’d surround her with a dozen lions.
The front door opened onto a small foyer, which accessed the main living area and a small dining room that he could use as a temporary office. On the far side of the dining room was a snug kitchen. A hallway branched off the living room and he led the parade in that direction, fairly certain they’d find the bedrooms.
Jack opened the first door and a small, rusty “ooh” emanated from behind him. His heart skipped a beat at the sound and he felt a surge of hope. Maybe Annalise was right. Maybe this vacation would turn Isabella around. Maybe it would even get her talking again. He forced himself to stroll casually into the bedroom, not wanting to betray any sort of reaction to that almost-word, afraid it might alarm her.
Isabella followed him in and made a beeline for a huge wooden structure that was part bunk beds and part tree fort. She vanished into one portion of the fort, climbed through trap doors and along secret tunnels, ending up in a bed cradled in the branches of the manufactured “tree,” complete with fabric leaves and stuffed animals hidden in various nooks and crannies. Her vivid green eyes glowed with happiness and Jack realized that nothing had ever given him greater pleasure than the sight of his niece’s beaming face.