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It had been five long years since she’d seen him, yet looking at him now, it could have been yesterday. Even in this situation, with his eyes flashing fury, she felt that bone-deep stir of something hot and needy and oh, so tempting. What was wrong with her? Hadn’t she learned her lesson?
Isabelle had loved working for Texas Toys. They were open to new ideas and Wes had been the kind of boss everyone should have. He encouraged his employees to try new and different things and rewarded hard work. He was always hands-on when it came to introducing fresh products to his established line. So he and Isabelle had worked closely together as she came up with new toys, new designs. When she’d given in to temptation, surrendered to the heat simmering between them, Isabelle had known that it wouldn’t end well. Boss/employee flings were practically a cliché after all. But the more time she spent with him, the more she’d felt for him until she’d made the mistake of falling in love with him.
That’s when everything had ended. When he’d told her that he wasn’t interested in more than an affair. He’d broken her heart, and when she left Texas, she’d vowed to never go back.
It seemed though, she hadn’t had to. Texas had come to her.
“We have to talk.” His voice was clipped, cold.
“No, we really don’t.” Isabelle wasn’t going to give an inch. She wasn’t even sure why he was here, and if he didn’t know the whole truth, she wasn’t going to give him any information. The only important thing was getting rid of him before he could see Caroline.
“That’s not gonna fly,” he said and moved in, putting both hands on her shoulders to ease her back and out of the way.
The move caught her so off guard, Isabelle didn’t even try to hold her ground. He was already walking into the house before she could stop him. And even as she opened her mouth to protest, his arm brushed against her breast and she shivered. It wasn’t fear stirring inside her, not even panic. It was desire.
The same flush of need had happened to her years ago whenever Wes was near. Almost from the first minute she’d met him, that jolt of something more had erupted between them. She’d never felt anything like it before Wes—or since. Of course, since she came back home to Swan Hollow, she hadn’t exactly been drowning in men.
After Wes, she’d made the decision to step back from relationships entirely. Instead, she had focused on building a new life for her and her daughter. And especially during the last year or so, that focus had shut out everything else. Isabelle had her brothers, her daughter, and she didn’t need anything else. Least of all the man who’d stolen her heart only to crush it underfoot.
With those thoughts racing through her mind, she closed the door and turned to face her past.
“I think I deserve an explanation,” he said tightly.
“You deserve?” she repeated, in little more than a hiss. She shot a quick look down the hall toward the kitchen where Caroline was. “Really? That’s what you want to lead with?”
“You should have told me about our daughter.”
Shock slapped at her. But at the same time, a tiny voice in the back of Isabelle’s mind whispered, Of course he knows. Why else would he be here? But how had he found out?
One dark eyebrow lifted. “Surprised? Yeah, I can see that. Since you’ve spent five years hiding the truth from me.”
Hard to argue with that, since he was absolutely right. But on the other hand... “Wes—”
He held up one hand and she instantly fell into silence even though she was infuriated at herself for reacting as he expected her to.
“Spare me your excuses. There is no excuse for this. Damn it, Isabelle, I had a right to know.”
Okay, that was enough to jolt her out of whatever fugue state he’d thrown her into. Keeping her voice low, she argued, “A right? I should have told you about my daughter when you made it perfectly clear you had no interest in being a father?”
Wanting to get him out of the hall where Caroline might see him, she walked past him into the living room. It was washed with pale sunlight, even on this gloomy winter day. The walls were a pale green and dotted with paintings of forests and sunsets and oceans. There were books lining the waist-high bookcases that ran the perimeter of the room and several comfortable oversize chairs and couches.
Oak tables were scattered throughout and a blue marble-tiled hearth was filled with a simmering fire. This room—heck, this house—was her haven. She’d made a home here for her and Caroline. It was warm and cozy in spite of its enormous size, and she loved everything about it. So why was it, she wondered, that with Wes Jackson standing in the cavernous room, she suddenly felt claustrophobic?
He came up right behind her and she felt as if she couldn’t draw a breath. She wanted him out. Now. Before Caroline could come in and start asking questions Isabelle didn’t want to answer. She whipped around to face him, to finish this, to allow him to satisfy whatever egotistical motive had brought him here so he could leave.
His aqua eyes were still so deep. So mesmerizing. Even with banked anger glittering there, she felt drawn to him. And that was just...sad. His collar-length blond hair was ruffled, as if he’d been impatiently driving his fingers through it. His jaw was set and his mouth a firm, grim line. This was the face he regularly showed the world. The cool, hard businessman with an extremely low threshold for lies.
But she’d known the real man. At least, she’d told herself at the time that the man she talked, laughed and slept with was the real Wes Jackson. When they were alone, his guard was relaxed, though even then, she’d had to admit that he’d held a part of himself back. Behind a wall of caution she hadn’t been able to completely breach. She’d known even then that Wes would continue to keep her at a safe distance and though it had broken her heart to acknowledge it, for her own sake, and the sake of her unborn child, she’d had to walk away.
“That was a hypothetical child,” he ground out, and every word sounded harsh, as if it was scraping against his throat. “I never said I wouldn’t want a child who was already here.”
A tiny flicker of guilt jumped into life in the center of her chest, but Isabelle instantly smothered it. Five years ago, Wes had made it clear he wasn’t interested in a family. He’d told her in no uncertain terms that he didn’t want a wife. Children. Love. She’d left. Come home. Had her baby alone, with her three older brothers there to support her. Now Caroline was happy, loved, settled. How was Isabelle supposed to feel guilty about doing the best thing for her child?
So she stiffened her spine, lifted her chin and met Wes’s angry glare with one of her own. “You won’t make me feel bad about a decision I made in the best interests of my daughter.”
“Our daughter, and you had no right to keep her from me.” He shoved both hands into the pockets of his black leather jacket, then pulled them free again. “Damn it, Isabelle, you didn’t make that baby on your own.”
“No, I didn’t,” she said, nodding. “But I’ve taken care of her on my own. Raised her on my own. You don’t get to storm into my life and start throwing orders around, Wes. I don’t work for you anymore, and this is my home.”
His beautiful eyes narrowed on her. “You lied to me. For five years, you lied to me.”
“I haven’t even spoken to you.”
“A lie of omission is still a lie,” he snapped.
He was right, but she had to wonder. Was he here because of the child he’d just discovered or because she’d wounded his pride? She tipped her head to one side and studied him. “You haven’t even asked where she is, or how she is. Or even what her name is. This isn’t about her for you, Wes. This is about you. Your ego.”
“Her name is Caroline,” he said softly. He choked out a laugh that never reached his eyes. “I’m pretty good at research myself. You know, you’re something else.” Shaking his head he glanced around the room before skewering her with another hard look. “You think this is about ego? You took off. With my kid—and never bothered to tell me.”
Was it just outrage she was hearing? Or was there pain in his voice as well? Hard to tell when Wes spent his life hiding what he was feeling, what he was thinking. Even when she had been closest to him, she’d had to guess what was going through his mind at any given moment. Now was no different.
She threw another worried glance toward the open doorway. Time was ticking past, and soon Caroline would come looking for her. Edna, the housekeeper, would be home from the grocery store soon, and frankly, Isabelle wanted Wes gone before she was forced to answer any questions about him.
“How did you find out?” she asked abruptly, pushing aside the guilt he kept trying to pile on her.
He scraped one hand across his face then pushed that hand through his hair, letting her know that whatever he was feeling was in turmoil. Isabelle hadn’t known he was capable of this kind of emotion. She didn’t know whether she was pleased or worried.
“You haven’t seen the internet headlines today?”
“No.” Worry curled into a ball in the pit of her stomach and twisted tightly. “What’s happened?”
“Someone knew about our daughter. And they’ve been hammering me with that knowledge.”
“How?” She glanced at her laptop and thought briefly about turning it on, catching up with what was happening. But the easiest way to discover what she needed to know was to hear it directly from Wes.
“I got an email yesterday from someone calling themselves Maverick. Sent me a picture of my daughter.”
“How did you know she was yours?”
He gave her a cool look. “She was wearing the princess heart necklace I once gave you.”
Isabelle sighed a little and closed her eyes briefly. “She loves that necklace.” Caro had appropriated the plastic piece of jewelry, and seeing it on her daughter helped Belle push the memory of receiving it from Wes into the background.
“You liked it once too, as I remember.”
Her gaze shot up to his. “I used to like a lot of things.”
Nodding at that jab, Wes said, “The same person who sent me the picture also let me know my Twitter account had been hacked. Whoever it was gave me a new handle. Real catchy. Deadbeatdad.”
“Oh, God.”
“Yeah, that pretty much sums it up.” He shook his head again. “That new hashtag went viral so fast my IT department couldn’t contain it. Before long, reporters were calling, digging for information. Then Teddy Bradford at PlayCo called a press conference to announce the merger we had planned was now up in the air because, apparently,” he muttered darkly, “I’m too unsavory a character to be aligned with his family values company.”
“Oh, no...” Isabelle’s mind was racing. Press conferences. Reporters. Wes Jackson was big news. Not just because of his toy company, but because he was rich, handsome, a larger-than-life Texas tycoon who made news wherever he went. And with the interest in him, that meant that his personal life was fodder for stories. Reporters would be combing through Wes’s past. They would find Caroline. They would do stories, take pictures and, in general, open her life up to the world. This was fast becoming a nightmare.
“The media’s been hounding me since this broke. I’ve got Robin fielding calls—she’ll stonewall them for as long as she can.”
Wes’s assistant was fierce enough to hold the hordes at bay—but it wouldn’t last. They would eventually find her. Find Caroline. But even as threads of panic unwound and spiraled through her veins, Isabelle was already trying to figure out ways to protect her daughter from the inevitable media onslaught.
“So.” Wes got her attention again. “More lies. You’re not Isabelle Gray. Your real last name is Graystone. Imagine my surprise when I discovered that. Isabelle Gray didn’t leave much of a mark on the world—but while typing in the name you gave me, up popped Isabelle Graystone. And a picture of you. So yeah. Surprised. Even more surprised to find out your family is all over the business world. As in Graystone shipping. Graystone hotels. Graystone every damn thing.
“You didn’t tell me you were rich. Didn’t tell me your family has their fingers into every known pie in the damn country. You didn’t even tell me your damn name. You lied,” he continued wryly. “But then, you seem to be pretty good at that.”
She flushed in spite of everything as she watched his gaze slide around the room before turning back to her. Fine, she had lied. But she’d done what she’d had to, so she wouldn’t apologize for it. And while that thought settled firmly into her brain, Isabelle ignored the niggle of guilt that continued to ping inside her.
“Why’d you hide who you were when you were working for me?”
Isabelle blew out a breath and said, “Because I wanted to be hired for me, for what I could do. Not because of who my family is.”
Irritation, then grudging respect flashed across his face. “Okay. I can give you that one.”
“Well,” she said, sarcasm dripping in her tone. “Thank you so much.”
He went on as if she hadn’t said a word. “But once you had the job, you kept up the lie.” His eyes narrowed on her. “When we were sleeping together, you were still lying to me.”
“Only about my name.” She wrapped her arms around her middle and held on. “I couldn’t tell you my real name without admitting that I’d lied to get the job.”
“A series of lies, then,” he mused darkly. “And the hits just keep on coming.”
“Why are you even here, Wes?” She was on marked time here and she knew it. Though it felt as if time was crawling past, she and Wes had already been talking for at least ten minutes. Caroline could come into the room any second. And Isabelle wasn’t ready to have that conversation with her little girl.
“You can even ask me that?” he said, astonishment clear in his tone. “I just found out I’m a father. I’m here to see my daughter.”
Damn it. “That’s not a good idea.”
“Didn’t think you’d like it.” He nodded sharply. “Good thing it’s not up to you.”
“Oh, yes, it is,” Isabelle said, lifting her chin to meet his quiet fury with some of her own.
Funny, she’d thought about what this moment might be like over the years. How she would handle it if and when Wes discovered he had a child. She’d wondered if he’d even care. Well, that question had been answered. At least, partially. He cared. But what was it that bothered him most? That he had a child he didn’t know? Or that Isabelle had lied to him? At the moment, it didn’t matter.
“You don’t want to fight me on this, Belle.” He took a step closer and stopped. “She’s my daughter, isn’t she?”
No point in trying to deny it, since once he saw Caroline, all doubts would disappear. The girl looked so much like her dad, it was remarkable. “Yes.”
He nodded, as if absorbing a blow. “Thanks for not lying about it this time.”
“Wes...”
“I have the right to meet her. To get to know her. To let her know me.” He stalked to the fireplace, laid one hand on the mantel and stared into the flames. “What does she know about me?” He turned his head to look at her. “What did you tell her?”
His eyes were gleaming, his jaw was set and every line of his body radiated tension and barely controlled anger.
“I told her that her father couldn’t be with us but that he loved her.”
He snorted. “Well, thanks for that much, anyway.”
“It wasn’t for your benefit,” she said flatly. “I don’t want my daughter guessing that her father didn’t want her.”
“I would have,” he argued, pushing away from the mantel to face her again. “If I’d known.”
“Easy enough to say now.”
“Well, I guess we’ll never know if things would have been different, will we?” he said tightly. “But from here on out, Belle, things are going to change. I’m not going anywhere. I’m in this. She’s mine and I want to be part of her life.”
Isabelle was so caught up in the tension strung between them, she almost didn’t notice Caroline walk quietly into the room to stand beside her. Her first instinct was to stand in front of her. To somehow hide the little girl from the father who had finally found her. But it was far too late for that.
Instantly, Wes’s gaze dropped to the girl, and his features softened, the ice melted from his eyes and a look of wonder crossed his face briefly. Of course he could see the resemblance. Isabelle saw it every time she looked at her daughter. She was a tiny, feminine version of Wes Jackson and there was just no way he could miss it.
“Hi,” he said, his voice filled with a warmth that had been lacking since the moment he arrived.
“Hi,” Caroline said, as her fingers flew. “Who are you?”
Before he could say anything, Isabelle said, “This is Mr. Jackson, sweetie. He’s just leaving in a minute.”
He shot her one quick, hard look, as Isabelle dropped one hand protectively on her daughter’s shoulder.
“We’re not done talking.” His gaze was hard and cold, his voice hardly more than a hush of sound.
“I guess not,” she said, then looked down at her baby girl. Using her hands as well as her voice, she said, “I heard Edna’s car pull into the driveway a minute ago. Why don’t you go help her with the groceries? Then you can go upstairs and play while Mommy talks to the man.”
“What about the ice cream?” Caro asked.
“Later,” she signed. Sighing a little, she watched Caroline smile and wave at Wes before turning to head back to the kitchen.
Once the little girl had hurried out of the room, Wes looked at Isabelle. “She’s deaf?”
“Good catch,” she said and instantly regretted the sarcasm. No point in antagonizing the man any further than he already was. “Yes. She has progressive hearing loss.”
“And what does that mean exactly? For her?”
“That’s a long conversation better suited to another time,” Isabelle said, in no mood whatsoever to get into this with Wes right this minute.
She wouldn’t have thought it possible, but his features went even icier. “Fine. We’ll put that aside for now.” He lowered his voice. “You should have told me. About her. About everything.”
Fresh guilt rushed through her like floodwaters spilling over a dam, but she fought it back. Yes, she remembered what it had been like to discover that Caroline was losing her hearing. The panic. The fear. The completely helpless feelings that had swamped her for days. Now she could look into Wes’s eyes and see the same reactions she’d once lived through. He had been hit with a lot of information in a very short time, and if it had been her, she probably wouldn’t have been as controlled as he was managing to be.
For some reason, that really irritated her.
