Her Little Secret, His Hidden Heir(22)
She had friends who had gone through much nastier divorces. She’d heard the horror stories where women who had been married to extremely wealthy men were put through the wringer and kicked onto the street with barely the clothes on their backs, sometimes with their children in tow.
Marc had never been that type of man. He’d always had a very low-key personality, opting for silent fury over angry blow-ups.
Even during their marriage, he might not have been as attentive as she would have liked or taken her complaints about his family or his distance seriously, but he had never resorted to petty arguments or name-calling. A couple of times, she’d even wished for something like that, if only as proof that he still cared enough to fight. With her or for her; back then, either would have translated as caring at all.
But his response to marital conflict had always been to lock his jaw, slip into stony silence and go back to the office to work even longer hours that pushed them even farther apart.
Marc was also one of the most honest men she’d ever met. It would be just like him to compartmentalize their current relationship.
Anything involving Danny would remain strictly personal, and he would deal with her on a personal, father-to-mother level. Anything involving her bakery would remain strictly a business venture and he would treat it as such.
If he pulled out of The Sugar Shack, it would be only his money and professional ties that went with him, not his love for Danny or determination to be in his son’s life. And on the other side of the coin, if they were at odds about something that concerned Danny, he would never pull his financial backing of the bakery just to make her life miserable.
Unfortunately, she’d never been quite as good at keeping her work and her personal life separated. She loved The Sugar Shack. It was a part of her, built of blood, sweat, tears and most of all, heart. If it failed, if something happened to it or she had to close the doors, a very big part of her would die with it.
But even more important than that, and definitely what owned a much bigger portion of her heart and soul, was Danny. She would light a match and torch The Sugar Shack down to the ground if it meant keeping her child happy and safe.
And for better or worse, Marc was Danny’s father, a part of him. He was also probably the only investor she would ever find who was actually willing and able to give the bakery an influx of much-needed cash, and who apparently thought her ideas for expansion held actual merit.
Anyone else would have already jumped at the offer. But there was so much at stake for her—and for Danny and Aunt Helen.
She’d been silent for so long, she was surprised Marc didn’t check her for a pulse. She also suspected she would have the mother of all headaches soon just from the strain of thinking so hard. It was as though a Ping-Pong championship tournament was taking place inside her brain.
But in the end, she didn’t follow her head or even her heart. She followed her gut.
“All right,” she told him, the words nearly torn from a throat gone tight with the strain of her internal struggle. “But I don’t want your charity. If we’re going to do this, then I want it to be completely official and aboveboard. We’ll have Brian draw up investment papers, or make it a legal loan that I will pay back, or however these things are normally done.”
Marc smiled gently, the sort of smile a parent offers a recalcitrant child, almost as though he was getting ready to humor her.
“Fine. I’ll call Brian in the morning and get the ball rolling.”
She nodded slowly, still reluctant, still unsure. Gut or no gut, agreeing to let Marc become a partner in her and her aunt’s business still made her hugely uncomfortable, and there was no guarantee that it wasn’t a monumental mistake.
“So that’s the business end of things. We’ll iron out the details tomorrow,” he said. Then he ran his hands down the bare flesh of her arms from her shoulders to her elbows and lowered his voice to a near whisper. “Now on to something a bit more personal.”
Her first thought was that he wanted to discuss Danny again, and her heart dropped all the way to her stomach, only to jump back up and lodge in her throat. Her chest grew tight as she held her breath and waited—for the bomb to drop, for him to demand full custody or announce that he was taking their son back to Pittsburgh with him.
Instead, he tugged her close, lowered his head and kissed her.
Seven
For a moment, Vanessa stood completely frozen, eyes wide, shock holding her immobile. But then his heat, his passion, seeped into her, and she began to lean against him, his eyes sliding closed on a silent sigh.
Marc’s hands slipped from her elbows to her waist, pulling her even more tightly to him and holding her there with his arms crossed like iron bands at her back. His lips were warm and firm and masterful, plundering even as he attempted to coax and seduce.
He tasted like coffee and cream, and felt like heaven. Just as she remembered.
Kissing Marc had always been pure pleasure, like a cool glass of water on a hot summer day or sinking into a relaxing bubble bath after a long, exhausting day at work.
Hand drifting up to cup her cheek, Marc pulled away just enough to let her catch her breath and meet his gaze. His eyes were dark with a desire that Vanessa knew must be reflected in her own. Whether she wanted it or not, whether she liked it or not, there was no denying the heat that flared between them. Even now, after a year of separation, after the end of their marriage.