very physical."
"He's never had a chance to be." He hugged her tight, as if aware that this was hurting her. "Trust him, Taylor. He's an extraordinary boy."
She heard the affection in his tone and knew that he meant it. "I hate it when he's hurting. I hate it!"
"Iknow, cara mia ."Theendearment made her want to reach up and kiss him. "Let me help."
Her instincts rebelled. She was used to looking out for Nick on her own. But, though it was a painful concession, she acknowledged that over the past year, his needs had changed in a way she couldn't fulfill.
He was starving for a male role model. She'd considered enrolling him in a youth group of some sort, but here was a strong, independent male, offering to look after her baby.
Jacksonknew he was asking a lot. He wasn't exactly a prize. What the hell did he know about children?
A sharp pain stabbed him. Damn Bonnie for stealing his chance to learn.Taylor's drawn out silence seemed to signal rejection. His pride told him to withdraw the offer, but the memory of the joy on Nick's face when he'd paid attention to him pricked his paternal instincts into fighting mode.
"Look," he began.
"Hush."Taylorheld up a slim hand. "This is important. I have to think."
He didn't know whether to be flattered or insulted. People usually didn't gainsay him, much less reject his help. Then again, in most cases, it wasn't a little boy's happiness on the line.
"Yes."
His heart clenched at that decisive sound. "Yes?"
"You'll be good for him. It pains me to know that I can't give him everything he needs but I can handle that. I had to think about it because if I make the wrong decision, Nick's heart could break. I trust you to never hurt him."
It would be so easy to promise. "At times, I'm likely to do that without meaning to."
"That's okay. Even I slip up." Her candor was followed by a nod. "Just don't ever do it on purpose."
There was a pregnant pause. "If we part ways after a year ... will you promise to stay in touch with him?"
"Yes." The boy was now one ofJackson's people, just likeTaylor. For the first time, he had the startling realization that even if they never had a child, he might not be able to walk away from this woman.
His woman.
Chapter 6
" Then I have no arguments,"Taylorstated.
He sucked in a breath. "That's a lot of trust."
"I know."
They stood there for a long time beforeJacksonspoke. "What about you?"
"What about me?" Her voice was wary.
"Trusting me."
She was silent for a long while. "It's hard."
He made himself ask. "Why?"
"It's hard to forget."
"Nick's father?"Taylorwas a sensitive woman. From what she'd told him, he knew that though she hadn't been able to comprehend why her mother loved that bastard, she'd understoodHelena's pain at Lance's indifference. It would've twisted her impression of what marriage was about. What love wasabout. Not that he was any closer to the answer,Jacksonthought bitterly.
"My mother loved two men. They both left her." It was a harsh explanation. "I don't know if I'll ever be able to forget that lesson."
"You are telling me that you do not believe you will ever love a man?" he forced himself to ask.
The answer was a whisper. "Yes ... I'm sorry."
"There is no need for an apology, piccola ." Anger burned in him for the hurts of her past, hurts that he could not undo, but he didn't allow her to see that. "We are equals. I know even less of love than you."
She gave him a shaky smile. "Equals, huh? Are you going to remember that after we're married?"
"If I do not, you will remind me. So, you do not trust men because of what two of our sex did to your mother?"
"Yes ... and because of what the others did ... to me."
Jackson's heart slammed into his chest at that lost, broken sound. He'd guessed that her sexual fears were rooted in events beyond her assault at the hands of Grant Layton, but having it confirmed was an unwelcome shock. Fury erupted inside him. Used to being calm and in control, he knew that if any man had hurt his Taylor, he'd rip them limb from limb and suffer no pangs of conscience.
He'd forgotten to tell her that while he wasn't a mobster, back inItalya branch of theSantorini line was very deeply enmeshed with themafioso . He could well understand why. Violence and rage roared beneath the surface of his composed front, demanding vengeance. His