The change in his niece was instantaneous. Her eyes grew huge and a brilliant smile lit her face. She gave a little bounce that Jack swiftly stilled. “We need to be quiet. It’s a lot of hard work to have puppies.”
“I guess this explains why she was putting on so much weight,” Annalise murmured, as Madam whelped another pup.
“It never occurred to me to ask the vet if she’d been spayed,” Jack replied. “We’ll get that taken care of as soon as the pups are weaned.”
Over the next several hours, six puppies made their way into the world while Isabella looked on, wide-eyed and trembling with happiness.
“What are we going to do with all these dogs?” Annalise asked in dismay. “One Madam is wonderful. But six more …”
“Six more Madam-sized dogs are impossible, especially if these little guys are as klutzy as their mother.” He released a gusty sigh. “I’ll put the word out. We’ll find good homes for them.”
Isabella yanked on his arm, shaking her head.
“You want to keep them all, don’t you, sweetie?”
She nodded emphatically.
He hesitated, wondering how he could explain it in terms she’d understand. “Do you remember your mommy and daddy telling you about the day they adopted you?” He could tell from her expression that she did. “They adopted you because the lady who gave birth to you … like Madam gave birth to all these puppies … couldn’t take care of you, even though I’m sure she wanted to. Your birth mommy did a wonderful thing. She found someone who would love you and give you a safe home because she wasn’t able to. In a few weeks, when these puppies are ready to be out on their own, Madam won’t be able to take care of so many. It’s our job to find good mommies and daddies for all of Madam’s puppies, people who will love them and keep them safe. Families with children like you who need their own Madam. Do you understand?”
He could tell Isabella wasn’t happy about it, but she nodded reluctantly. He tossed a relieved smile over his shoulder in Annalise’s direction, shocked to see the tears streaking down her cheeks.
Fortunately, Isabella was so preoccupied with the puppies, she didn’t notice. With an inarticulate murmur, Annalise escaped the intimate circle and distanced herself from them. Jack followed. Some instinct warned that his wife was hanging on by a mere thread, and, without a word, he pulled her into his arms.
“Honey, what’s wrong?”
She simply shook her head without responding.
To his relief, Sara and Brett chose that moment to show up. They took in the situation in one glance. “Got a mite worried when no one appeared for breakfast.” Sara spoke in an undertone. “Brett had a strong suspicion about what was going on. Mentioned just last night that Madam looked a bit plumper than a few weeks of decent meals could explain.”
“I was going to give you the heads-up today,” Brett added. “But I see Madam decided to break the news to you herself.”
“That she did. Maybe if I’d had more experience with dogs I’d have caught on sooner.” Jack spared his wife a swift glance. She continued to cling to him, her face buried in his shoulder. “Would the two of you mind keeping an eye on Isabella? Annalise isn’t feeling well and I’d like to take her back to bed.”
“Oh, dear,” Sara said in concern. “Would it help if I fixed a pot of tea or a bite of toast?”
“I’ll let you know,” Jack assured. “I suspect Isabella will stay glued to Madam’s side for the next few hours, so I don’t think she’ll be any trouble. Call on the house phone if you need me.”
With that, he wrapped an arm around Annalise’s waist and ushered her from the room. The second they entered the master suite, she turned and curled into him. His arms closed around her, holding her tight. He felt the shudders ripping through her and caught the small gasping sounds. He waited out the storm, trying to pinpoint what had set her off. Something about the birth of the dogs was all he could come up with.
At long last, she pulled free of his hold. “You can let me go now,” she insisted. “I’m sorry to cause such a ridiculous scene.”
He tipped up her chin and regarded her in nak*d concern. “Tell me what’s wrong. Is it the puppies? Did they stir old memories of some kind?”
She waved that aside. “Not exactly. I don’t know why I reacted in such a silly way. What you told Isabella …” She gave an embarrassed shrug. “I’m sorry. For some reason, it made me cry.”
Aw, hell. “You do understand that we can’t keep the puppies?” Just the thought of six more dogs as large as Madam rampaging through the house left him weak at the knees. “We can’t give that many dogs the time and attention they deserve. We’d be doing them a disservice.”
She lifted her tear-streaked face to his. “No, no. I understand that part.”
“I’ll find good homes for them. The best. I have a lot of contacts in both the local community and the business world. We’ll find people whose homes and lifestyles are well suited for a large dog.”
“I know you will. It’s not that.”
Another possibility occurred to him. “Was it what I said about Isabella’s adoption?” he asked uneasily. “Joanne and Paul were very open with her about the subject, very matter-of-fact about it. They wanted her to understand the truth from an early age so there wouldn’t be any unpleasant shocks later on in life. Not that they were cold-blooded about it,” he hastened to add. “They were two of the most loving individuals I’ve ever known, and their daughter was at the center of that love.”
“Everything that’s happened to her just seems so unfair.”
He hadn’t quite gotten to the root of the problem and found himself floundering a bit in his attempt to pin it down. “That won’t be an issue for her anymore,” he reassured. “Not now that she has the two of us.”
“But what about Mrs. Locke and CPS?”
Jack lifted Annalise’s face and thumbed the remaining traces of tears from her cheeks. “They don’t stand a chance against us.”
A smile splashed across her face like sunshine following a cloudburst. It brightened her eyes, banishing the darkness. “How could I forget? You’re Jack Mason. No one can stop a Mason once he makes up his mind to accomplish something.”
He leaned in until they were almost nose to nose. “In case you’ve forgotten, you’re a Mason now, too.”
Her smile faded. “A temporary Mason,” she corrected softly.
That did it. He caught hold of the lapels of her robe and reeled her in. Her warmth collided with his, her soft curves locking with stunning perfection against his hard-cut angles. He released her robe and sank his fingers into the mass of inky ringlets spilling down her back. They wrapped around him in joyous abandon, allowing him to anchor her close.
“Did it feel temporary last night when we made love?” he demanded. “Does it feel temporary when you’re in my arms like this?”
He could read her uncertainty. “You know that’s not what we agreed—” she began.
His mouth tightened. “I’m changing the terms of our agreement.”
He didn’t give her an opportunity to reply, stopping the incipient argument with a kiss. He kissed her with a passion that had little to do with Isabella and everything to do with his own selfish desires. Her reaction was instantaneous. She returned his embrace with an urgency that stole every thought but one. To lose himself in her. To join them in a way that would defy any and all attempts to force them apart. To bind and blend and mate one unto the other until two became one.
She must have felt something similar because she looked up at him and the longing in her eyes nearly unmanned him. “Please, Jack. Make love to me.”
A final rational thought kept him from doing just that. “You’re exhausted.”
She shook her head. “Not that exhausted. Never that exhausted.”
He couldn’t resist. In all honesty, he didn’t want to. He tugged at the belt anchoring her robe. It parted, revealing the paper-thin nightgown beneath. A brush of his hands sent the robe fluttering around their feet in a pool of vibrant aqua silk. Next he captured the two straps of her nightgown and drew them down her shoulders, baring her desire as he bared her. His clothing followed until all that remained between them was pure desire, a white-hot blaze that drove them toward the bed.
She sank into the mattress and lifted her arms to him, offering herself like some pagan goddess. He didn’t hesitate. He claimed what she gave so willingly, branding her with his weight and desperate urgency. He found her br**sts and claimed those as well, teasing them to rigidness with his teeth and tongue. Her arms enfolded him, pulling him closer still. And he sank into her heat, feeling the lap of it surround him, hearing the roar of it burning in his ears.
“I need this. I don’t think I can survive without it. Not anymore.”
“I’m here,” she whispered in her siren’s song. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“No, you’re not.” Somehow it didn’t come out as an agreement, but more as a warning. “You’re mine now, and I protect and hold what’s mine.”
Amusement glittered in her witch gold eyes. “We’re not possessive, are we?”
“Only with some things.” He swept a hand from breast to thigh. Mine, his touch seemed to say. He couldn’t seem to help it, his need to cleave to her had grown beyond his capacity to control. He tried to explain how he felt, fumbling over the unfamiliar words. “Now that I’ve found you, I don’t want to lose you. Now that I’ve had you, I don’t think I can go back to how it was before you were part of my life.”
“Then don’t.”
There was so much more he longed to say. To explain. But he no longer possessed the ability. So he told her without words. He knew what she liked, what brought her the most pleasure. And he gave it to her. Each caress built, one on the other, and she clung to him as though she’d never let him go.
She trembled beneath his questing hand—the elegant line of her spine, the velveteen swell of her breast, the sweet curve of her thigh. He cupped the downy center of her passion, feeling the gathering tension and delicate quaking of a woman teetering on the verge. He drew her legs around his waist and drove slowly into her, losing himself in the delicious warmth. Her sigh of pleasure slid over him, sank deep inside to the very core of him, to that final place of coldness. With each ebb and flow, they moved ever closer. The eruption came, more powerful and overwhelming than any before.
He took her. Made her his. Let go of the final fragments of his control. When he did, the last sliver of ice melted. And in its place came love, a love he’d never anticipated or asked for. Never even thought possible.
But come it did.
Chapter Nine
Naturally, Mrs. Locke chose the worst possible time to arrive on their doorstep, descending six weeks after the birth of the puppies.
The morning started out perfectly, with Annalise in his arms still soft and trembling from the aftermath of their lovemaking. She wrapped him up in a tangle of arms and legs that held him close to the urgent beat of her heart. Though she never actually said the words, every lingering touch, every golden look, every whispered sigh, spoke of love.
Somehow she’d created a magical circle, a bountiful place more comfortable and spacious and exquisite than all the rooms in his family home combined. And in that circle she’d seeded a fertile garden where Isabella thrived. It was a place where he could loosen his grip on the chains of his restraint and reserve and simply let go. In that magical place, Madam romped and Isabella would soon speak and he belonged as he’d never belonged before.
For the first time, Jack felt hope. For the first time in more years than he could count, he’d found his way home, and he had no intention of ever losing his way again. He thrust his fingers deep into Annalise’s silken curls and combed them back from her face. She smiled up at him, the words he longed to hear glittering in the brilliance of her eyes and trembling on the rose-petal softness of her lips, hovering so close he could practically hear the whisper of them on each exhalation of her breath. And yet, they remained unspoken.
It was time to take matters into his own hands.
“I want to change the parameters of our agreement,” he stated bluntly.
Confusion clouded her gaze and a wariness settled over her. “You what?”
“I want to fire you.”
She shoved at his chest and sat up, snatching the sheet to her chest. “Fire me,” she repeated in patent disbelief. “Have you lost your mind? What about Isabella? What about CPS?”
His mouth set into a stubborn line. He reached beneath the covers and caught one silken bare leg. He gave it a sharp tug, sending her sliding back under him. “I want our marriage to be real. I want a wife. A permanent one, not a temp who’s going to leave us in two years. Isabella needs a mother, and not any mother. She needs you.”
For a brief instant she burned with happiness. The next instant it winked out of existence. “I can’t promise you that,” she stated categorically.
Had he misread her feelings? A rare panic swept through him and he clamped down on it, replacing it with every bit of strength and business acumen that he typically brought to the table whenever a deal threatened to go sour. He could handle Annalise. He’d handle her the same way he handled an unruly business transaction. He’d devastate her defenses with logic, boxing her in until she had nowhere to go other than straight into his arms.
“What’s wrong with making our marriage a real one?” he demanded. “Aren’t you happy?”
“I’m happier than I’ve ever been in my life,” she conceded. “But our relationship is still new and untested. You don’t know everything about me.”