Baby for the Billionaire - By Maxine Sullivan Page 0,68

there. But she remained silent. And he gave himself up to duty and responsibility. The familiar cold returned, sweeping into his veins and taking root. How many years had it been his companion? He couldn’t remember anymore. Not that it mattered. He’d learned long ago to accept the inevitability of it.

Without a word, he turned and walked away.

Jack jerked awake at the sound of his bedroom door banging open.

“Is Isabella in here?” Annalise demanded. “Is she with you?”

He came off the bed like a shot. “She’s missing?”

Annalise nodded rapidly, her breath escaping her lungs in frantic gasps. “When I went in to get her this morning she wasn’t there. I thought she was hiding in the tree house. I practically took the thing apart looking for her. I’ve searched the entire house. She’s not here.” Undisguised fear glittered in her eyes, shredding her usual control. “I can’t find her anywhere.”

“Have you checked outside?”

“Oh, God, Jack.” She turned a panicked gaze in the direction of the front door. “The ocean.”

They both raced for the door. It wasn’t locked and he could distinctly remember double-checking it last night to make certain it was. He ripped the door open and erupted onto the front porch. He drew in a deep breath, preparing to shout his niece’s name, when suddenly he saw her. She sat halfway between the house and the water, half-buried beneath the largest dog Jack had ever seen.

Behind him, Annalise stumbled against his back. She inhaled sharply and he whipped around and caught hold of her. Sensing the scream building in her lungs, he covered her mouth with his hand.

“Quiet,” he ordered in a voice barely above a whisper. “Don’t startle them.”

At her nod of understanding, he released her. “Jack,” she whimpered. “That thing could kill her.”

“Don’t say it. Don’t even think it. Right now, I want you to go back in the house and find my cell. Punch in 911, but don’t hit Send until I tell you.” She continued to stare at him with glazed, terror-stricken eyes and he gave her a quick shake. “Do you understand?”

She recovered a small semblance of control and nodded. “Yes. Yes, I understand. Dial 911. Don’t hit Send until you give the word.”

“Then I want you to grab the steaks that are in the fridge and bring them out here to me. Slow and easy, got it? No fast or sudden moves. No loud noises.”

“I understand.”

Without another word, she slipped back into the house. Jack forced himself to move forward and sit on the porch steps. Then he whistled, low and gentle. Both dog and child jerked to attention, their heads swiveling in unison toward him. To his horror, the dog bristled, emitting a low growl. Even worse, Isabella reached up to pat the animal on the muzzle, her tiny hand inches from a set of lethally bared teeth. He knew Annalise had returned by her soft gasp of reaction at how much more dangerous the situation had become.

“Here.” She slipped the raw slabs of meat into his hand. Her fingers trembled against his and her breath warmed the back of his neck in rapid-fire bursts. She was inches from losing it, and yet she spoke with a calmness that washed over him like a gentle balm. “It’s going to be all right, Jack. I have my hand on the Send button. Say the word, and I’ll place the call.”

“Go back inside,” he instructed in an undertone. He wouldn’t risk her welfare, too. “Be ready to open the door on my signal.”

He sensed her silent retreat into the house and fixed his full attention on his niece and the huge animal hovering above her. He didn’t dare whistle again. He could only hope that one or the other of them would come to him. Sure enough, Isabella released a gleeful laugh and clambered out from beneath the dog. To Jack’s relief, the animal allowed it, though she—at least, he thought it was a female—continued to regard Jack with open suspicion bordering on hostility.

He needed to get the dog away from his niece, and fast. Hoping he wasn’t making a hideous mistake, he held up the first steak. “Here you go, girl!”

It was as though someone had thrown a light switch. The hair along the dog’s back slicked down and her ears perked up. A huge flirtatious grin spread across her giant square mug. After treating Isabella to a maternal lick of farewell from a tongue big enough to clean his niece’s face with

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