Baby for the Billionaire(99)

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.”