two more weeks."
A bare fourteen days before time expired to file legal papers in opposition to his claim for sole custody.
His laugh was cruel. "We can do it easy or we can do it hard but I'll win. Remember that and don't forget your place, brat - you're nothing but a rich man's castoff. My son deserves better than a life with you."
She hung up, hand shaking. Lance could reduce her to tears with a few well-chosen barbs, but she prided herself on never breaking down where he could see or hear her.
"Who was that?"Jacksondemanded.
She could almost feel the heat of his big body against her back. The urge to tell him was overwhelming, but remnants of the fear generated by the call held her back.Jacksonwas a rich and powerful man, too.
He might take Lance's side. Bewildered and a little lost, she could barely think. All she knew was that she couldn't let that monster take Nick. Suddenly, panic hit her. What if Lance took him by force? She had to call the camp and warn them!
When she turned to faceJackson, the clean, male scent of him taunted her with promises of safety.
"Someone I don't want to talk to," she admitted, trying not to let him see the panic riding her.
"Do you want me to deal with it?"
She shook her head. "No. I think I'd like to go to sleep." Her words were blunt, her inner resources depleted by the force of her apprehension.
Though his dark eyes narrowed, he left, his shoulders almost filling the doorway. Despite the horrible feeling in the pit of her stomach, the urge to touch those shoulders made her throat dry. Big, strong Jacksonseemed like the safest port in the storm of her life.
Trembling, she closed her door and immediately called Nick's camp counselor. After waking her from a deep sleep, she made the poor woman do a bed check on her brother and then swear that she'd ensure that no one butTaylorwas allowed to pick him up, during or after camp. She wanted to go get him right now, but Nick had been so excited about the camp, she couldn't bear to cut it short.
Calmer now that she knew he was safe, she got out of the robe and into the shirt. It came almost to her knees and she had to fold back the cuffs several times before her hands poked through the sleeves. But, for some reason she didn't want to face, it comforted her to be wearingJackson's shirt. She crawled into bed, craving sleep.
Instead, fear hammered at her temples, creating an excruciating headache. Whimpering in pain, she sat up, aware that her suffering was stress induced. She needed to release some of the pressure by asking for help - by askingJackson? Out of the grip of the illogical terror that had bewildered her after the call, she knew that her fears that he'd take Lance's side were groundless. JacksonSantorini might be dictatorial and dominating, but unlike her tormentor, he had honor.
Life had forced her to be strong, but this time there were so many burdens on her that she felt as if she would collapse. Despite that, her heart rebelled against askingJackson. She remembered how his family ignored him, except when they needed his help. Becoming another burden chafed, but she'd do anything to protect Nick. Including asking the help of a man who made her wish for impossible things.
Afraid that her courage would desert her if she delayed, she jumped out of bed. It was only when she was standing beforeJackson's bedroom door that she remembered her only clothing was his shirt. Her knuckles had hit the wood by then and it was too late. The door swung open before she could retreat.
Jacksonstood in front of her, wearing a pair of white boxer shorts.
Captivated by the view, she lost her train of thought. His thickly muscled wall of a chest, covered with a sprinkling of black hair, was only the start. Ropes of muscle ran across his shoulders and arms, and his abdomen was ridged in a way that told her he carried no excess flesh. His thighs looked like tree trunks.
She'd been right - the man was muscled everywhere.
He shifted and she jerked her head up, aware that she'd been staring. But, how could any red-blooded woman resist indulging herself with such a prime example of masculinity? Especially a woman who'd been shown time and time again that this masculine power would never