Baby for the Billionaire - By Maxine Sullivan Page 0,54
mind, he rejected it. Damn it to hell! Had he lost every ounce of common sense? This wasn’t part of the plan.
He deliberately turned his back on Annalise and walked to the window, giving himself some much needed breathing room. Resting his arm on the sash, he gazed out at the backyard. It had been designed as a peaceful haven, secluded from the bustle and noise of the city traffic. He retreated there whenever he had a tough business decision to make—or a tough personal one. It was there that he’d made the final determination to accept responsibility for Isabella. It was there he’d come to the conclusion that he’d have to marry in order to retain custody of his niece. Would it be Annalise who ultimately became his wife?
He turned around, surprising a look of compassion on her face. “CPS wants to take Isabella away from me,” he found himself admitting.
Annalise couldn’t quite control her flicker of alarm. “Why? What did you—” She broke off abruptly. “What concerns them?”
“That’s not what you were about to say.” It was his turn to close the distance between them. “You were wondering what I’d done wrong that caused CPS to step in.”
Her breathing quickened as she finally seemed to sense she’d pushed him too far. “Why are they involved?”
“I already told you. Paul and Joanne didn’t designate a guardian. CPS needs to make sure I’ll do an adequate job.” His mouth twisted. “So far they’re less than impressed.”
“But you mean to change that.”
He fixed her with a fierce look. “Allow me to make myself clear.” He paused to give his words more impact. “I’ll do whatever I must in order to keep Isabella. Any. Damn. Thing. Is that clear enough, Ms. Stefano?”
“Annalise.”
Why didn’t she back down? Did she know nothing about his reputation? Or did she simply not care? “You’re not the least intimidated by me, are you?”
She lifted an eyebrow. “Should I be?”
“Yes,” he stated baldly. “But you’re like a damned dog with a bone. You just don’t let go.”
She stunned him by leaning in and offering a teasing smile. “Isn’t that precisely the sort of person you want on Isabella’s side? I’m a fighter. And you’re right. I don’t give up.”
He paused to consider. He did need someone like her, someone who’d help him take on Mrs. Locke. Maybe it was time to listen to her. “What do you suggest?”
She didn’t hesitate. “Two things. First, simplify Isabella’s environment so she isn’t so visually stimulated and overwhelmed. Second, I suggest you take a few weeks off work and spend time with her in a—” she spared a brief glance around “—shall we say, in a more basic setting.”
“I can’t afford to take a few days off right now, let alone a few weeks.”
Annalise tilted her head to one side, and more curls escaped from the knot at her nape, tumbling down her shoulders and back in glorious abandon. No wonder she attempted to maintain such tight control over her hair. It was every bit as willful as the rest of her. Her eyes darkened as she regarded him.
“I thought you were willing to do whatever it took to keep custody of Isabella,” she said. “Any. Damn. Thing. Remember?”
“I have a business empire to run.”
“Then let her go.”
The softly spoken recommendation—identical to the one his lawyer, Derek, had made—hung in the air between them, vanquished only when he released a single, harsh expletive. “I must have been insane when I hired you.”
“Would it help if I promise I’ll always put Isabella’s best interests first?”
“I don’t doubt that for a minute.” He forked his fingers through his hair. Every instinct told him she was right. He’d just been looking for an easier solution. He should have known he wouldn’t find one. Building his import/export business had been no different. It had required total dedication and had demanded his attention every hour of every day, and then some. “Fine. We’ll try it your way for now.”
Her grin blew him away. “Thank you.”
He snagged the collar of her suit jacket and tugged her close. Close enough that he could feel the explosion of her breath against his jawline. “We’ll try it your way for now. But one stumble and that changes. Are we clear, Ms. Stefano?”
“Are you a perfectionist, Mr. Mason? Are your employees expected to be just as perfect?”
She’d reverted to a more formal manner of addressing him and he could guess why. Since she couldn’t pull free of his hold without losing their