Page 43 of Baby Nanny

“I don’t know.” The confession ripped from him. “But at least I would have been in a position to make an informed choice.”

Her hands dropped to her sides, stealing away the only warmth left to him. She stepped backward. “Then let me make this easy for you.” She took another step away from him. “I’ll narrow your choices down to two. We can stay married and work through this, or we can divorce.”

“And if I want a divorce?”

For the first time, her composure cracked. No, it more than cracked. It shattered. He found that shattering all the more devastating because he’d never seen her lose control to that extent before. She fought the loss for ten full seconds before managing to grind out a reply. “When we first met I had serious doubts about whether or not you were the appropriate person to raise Isabella . Idon’t have any doubts about that anymore.”

He froze. “What the hell does that mean?”

“I think you’re an amazing father, Jack,” she said. “There’s not a single doubt in my mind that she’s not only safe with you, but that she’ll thrive in your care . Iwon’t contest a divorce. Nor will I attempt to take her away from you.”

“Annalise—”

She shook her head and her mouth compressed, he suspected to keep her lips from trembling. “If you change your mind about the divorce, you know where to find me.” She squared her shoulders and looked him straight in the eye. “But if you decide you want to give our marriage a try, there’s only one way I’ll return to you. And that’s not as Isabella’s nanny or your employee. It will be as your partner. As your wife.”

With that, Annalise turned and stepped into her father’s arms. She clung to him for a long minute while Robert stared at Jack with eyes filled with threat. Without another word, he swept his daughter across the patio and into the house. There they paused, and her gaze clung to an oblivious Isabella a final instant. Not once did she look back at him. Then the door closed behind them with frightening finality.

Jack stood unmoving for an endless moment. How was it possible that in thirty short minutes his life had gone from near perfection, straight to hell? Isabella continued to play with Mister Mayhem, giggling in blissful ignorance at the puppy’s ungainly antics. He took a single step toward her when a voice like shards of glass cut intohim.

“You, Mr. Mason, are a complete and total idiot,” Mrs. Locke announced in ringing tones of disgust.

He spun in his tracks. He’d completely forgotten about the caseworker. She continued to sit beneath the canopied portion of the patio. Without taking her gaze from him, she pickedup her glass of iced tea with impressive casualness and took a daintysip.

She offered a sour smile. “Forgot I was here, didn’t you?” He muttered a word that had the woman’s carefully stenciled eyebrows climbing. “I certainly hope you don’t use that sort of language around Isabella on a regular basis,” shesaid.

“Since she doesn’t talk , Ididn’t think it mattered,” he shotback.

To his amazement, Mrs. Locke actually smiled. “I suggest you come and sit down before you fall down.” She hefted the pitcher of tea and splashed some into one of the empty glasses. “Here. Drink this.”

He reluctantly approached, amazed to find himself taking the proffered glass and obediently downing half the contents in one swallow. The sugar rush hit his system and helped clear his head. “So, how’s your morning been so far, Mrs. Locke?” He collapsed into the chair across from the caseworker and stared broodingly at his niece. “Entertaining enough for you?”

“Vastly.”

“Glad you’re enjoying yourself. Personally, the last time I had a day this bad my sister and her husband died in a plane crash , aflight I should have been on with them. Oh, and my niece’s life hung by a mere thread.”

“I’m sorry, Jack.” He couldn’t mistake either her sincerity or her compassion.

He found himself unable to respond. Instead, he traced his finger along a teardrop bead of condensation trickling down the side of his glass. He struggled to gather himself and determine what his next step should be. Having built his business from scratch, he’d learned the importance of flexibility. He’d becomean expert at thinking and organizing quickly and reacting to fluid situations even faster. Logic and ruthless intent had gotten him through many a crisis. But this…

He couldn’t think at all, let aloneact.

“So, did you marry Annalise because you loved her, or in order to get rid of me?” Mrs. Locke asked.

“To get rid of you.” He returned the glass to the table and rubbed at the headache gathering in his temples. “At least , Ithought so.”

“Interesting.”

His head jerked up. “What’s interesting?”

“When I asked Annalise why she’d married you, she said more or less the same thing.”

He had a vivid memory of standing in the kitchen, desperate to hear his wife’s response to Mrs. Locke’s question. The truth came as one more blow. He didn’t even attempt to conceal his pain. It cut too deeply. “She told you that?” he murmured.

“No, she told me that’s why she’d initially agreed to marry you. She said she married you for one reason and one reason only.”

“What?” The word was torn from him before he could preventit.

Mrs. Locke lifted an eyebrow and pinned him with those bright blue eyes. “Don’t you know?” She dismissed her own question with a wave of her hand. “Of course you don’t, or you’d never have made those ridiculous accusations.”

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