Falling for King's Fortune / Seduction, Westmoreland Style. Maureen Child
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nodded, since her throat was suddenly so tight, she didn’t think she’d be able to squeeze out a single word. Did he have to sit so closely? Did he have to smell so good? Did he have to have a voice that sounded like hot nights and silk sheets?
“So,” he said, his tone pleasant, though his eyes were dark and unreadable. “Since we find ourselves in a unique position, I’ve got a unique solution to the situation.”
She found her voice. It was scratchy and she was forced to clear her throat, but she managed. “I didn’t realize we required a ‘solution’.”
“Then you were wrong again,” he said and gave her a brief half smile.
“Jackson…”
“You’ve lived here three years, right?”
The statement was so far out of the blue, she only blinked at him for a second or two. “How do you know that?”
“You rent it.”
She shifted, lifted her chin and said, “Did you investigate me or something?”
“Why wouldn’t I? You show up claiming I’m the father of your child, it only makes sense to check you out.”
“I can’t believe this.” Nerves jumped inside her and Casey suddenly felt as though she couldn’t draw enough air into her lungs. She felt trapped in the little house she’d always loved so much.
“Since you rent, it’ll make things easier all the way around.” He nodded thoughtfully, glanced at the cramped quarters and she could guess exactly what he was thinking. He came from big, towering piles of money. He owned a mansion he rarely used and kept hotel suites ready “just in case.” He had no idea what life for real people was like and she was sure he was mentally dismissing the home she’d made for Mia and herself.
But Casey had nothing to be ashamed of. The house was small, but it was clean and cute and just enough for her and her daughter. And if he had investigated her background, then he knew she was honest, paid her bills on time and that she was completely capable of caring for her child.
He could think whatever he liked. It really didn’t matter to her one way or the other.
“That will make this easier,” he said at last.
“Make what easier?”
“I want you and Mia to move in with me.”
Five
“You’re crazy!”
“Possibly. You know, it’s the oddest thing,” Jackson mused as he watched her features register complete and total shock. “Your eyes change color according to your moods.”
She shook her head as if she couldn’t believe she’d heard him correctly. “What?”
He’d done that on purpose. Put her off guard. Off balance. Never sure what he’d do next. Besides, her eyes did intrigue him. But then, she intrigued him. More than he was comfortable admitting.
“Your eyes,” he said. “They seem a very pale blue usually. But when you’re mad—like now—or when I’m inside you…” he paused and watched his words hit home, “that soft blue becomes as dark and deep as the ocean.”
She squirmed uneasily in her chair. Good. She should be uneasy. He was. Damn it, she’d thrown him for a hard loop since the moment he’d first spotted her at the hotel bar. Seemed only fair he return the favor.
Since meeting with his brothers the day before, Jackson had been in high gear. One thing you could say for the Kings, they knew how to get things done fast.
He’d placed a single phone call to the King family attorneys and within a few hours, he’d not only gained several new employees at his home and every stick of furniture an infant required, but he’d known everything about Casey Davis that there was to know. He wasn’t sure how the law firm had managed it, but he assumed they had people on the payroll who could pull off minor miracles when necessary.
Even knowing that he’d come here to draw a line in the sand, all Jackson could think now was, he wanted to touch Casey again. Feel her eager response, the sigh of her breath on his neck. Drown in the heat of her body.
He shook his head, dislodging the erotic images that flooded his mind, so that he could concentrate on the problem at hand.
“You can’t be serious about us moving in with you.” Her arms tightened around Mia until the baby squirmed uncomfortably in her mother’s grasp.
He’d expected just such a reaction. And if he were to be honest with himself, it was a crazy idea. He was supposed to be on the verge of getting engaged. Marrying a woman who was completely unaware of Mia and Casey’s existence. And truth be told, he hadn’t come here with the idea of moving the two of them into his house. He’d come to demand time with his daughter. But one look at the tiny rental on the ragged edge of town where his daughter lived had convinced him that she deserved better.
And she’d get it.
As for Marian, he’d talk to her. Explain that he needed more time. He couldn’t go into a marriage—not even one that was a strictly business proposition—until he had the rest of his life straightened out.
And who would have thought it would need straightening? He’d always lived his life as he chose. Making his own decisions. Never factoring in anyone else’s opinion.
Seemed those days were over.
“There’s plenty of room. I’ve got a nursery completely outfitted already and plenty of help in the house for you if you need it.”
“I don’t.”
“So you’ve said. Repeatedly.” He shifted on the footstool and the old leather creaked with the movement. “But I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about this.”
“And this is your plan?”
“That’s right.” He got up from the too-low footstool, not because his long legs were cramped but because he was too close to Casey. Her scent reached for him. The curve of her breasts tempted him and her mouth all but begged to be kissed.
And that wasn’t why he was here. This wasn’t about him and Casey. This was about his daughter.
He walked two short paces—all he could take without actually leaving the room—stopped beside the playpen and idly rested one hand on the rim. “Look, I might never have planned on being a father, but I am one now and that changes things.”
Her chin lifted, her eyes narrowed and her grip on Mia tightened as if she were half afraid he was going to grab the baby and make a run for it. “I don’t see how.”
He laughed shortly. “Of course you don’t.”
She took a breath, blew it out and said, “I know what you’re doing….”
“Is that right?” He let go of the playpen, folded his arms over his chest and looked down at her.
“Men like you—”
“Like me?”
“The take-charge type,” she explained.
“Ah.”
“Men like you see a situation and immediately jump in and start shifting things around. For some reason, you’ve decided that Mia and I are your business. We’re not.”
“We disagree,” he said, his gaze slipping from her now dark blue eyes to the baby on her lap and back again.
She blew out a frustrated breath. “I don’t know how to say this so you’ll understand me. You don’t owe us anything. I don’t want your money and I don’t need your help.”
Well, that stung. True or not. And it was clearly, he thought with another rueful glance around her tiny, cluttered home, not true.
“Let’s