Mr. Hyde’s Assets

by Sheridon Smythe

  “When Jack told me about the job, he filled me in on a few things he thought I should know.” He swallowed again, but it didn’t ease the dryness in his throat any more than it had the first time. “For safety’s sake, he told me he’d read about the trouble you’ve been having with Mr. Vanausdale’s relatives.”

  Was she believing him? He couldn’t really tell. She just stood there, looking like the first arrival for a teen slumber party. Maybe he should have left well enough alone. Maybe if he had, he wouldn’t be entertaining the very naughty thoughts he was thinking right now. Like, hauling her against him and kissing the hell out of those extremely kissable lips. Or lifting his jersey and finding out if her breasts were a perfect fit for his hands, as he suspected they were.

  She curled her fingers around the doorjamb, and Austin noticed with a jolt of surprise that her nails were short and unpainted. Obviously, this lady had not been spending her time at a beauty salon getting manicures.

  But then, she didn’t get out much because of the media, who must know something he didn’t. Otherwise they wouldn’t be going to the trouble they were, right?

  Right. Austin felt better. Justified. His chest swelled with relief. He was back on track. In focus without a camera.

  He smiled at the pun.

  She knocked the smile right off his face with the low, vibrant timbre of her fury. “You’ve been making fun of me, haven’t you? All of this”—she plucked at his jersey and swung her honey-gold hair—”was just a game to you, wasn’t it?” Her hands came down on her hips, outlining her waist.

  Austin helplessly dropped his gaze for a quick look before jerking it back to her angry cat’s eyes. Whew! Nothing wimpy about this woman! She was burning—burning to punch his lights out.

  “You thought it would be funny to dress me down, bring the rich widow to her knees.”

  “Now, hold on a damned minute—”

  “What was the next lesson, Mr. Hyde? Skinny-dipping in the pool?”

  Well, now that she mentioned it…

  “Would that loosen me up, do you think? Make me look more like a mother-to-be? And if I got really lucky, a reporter would get a nice big glossy for the paper. Now that would be something for the scrapbook—something to save for my child!” She took a step forward, and he took a step backward, colliding with the hall wall.

  To Austin’s pleasure, she kept coming at him until her body was shoved up against his. But her blistering glare told him this wasn’t his lucky day; she just didn’t realize what she was doing, she was so spitting mad.

  And hurt, he now saw. And that bothered him. Not that she was mad—that proved she had backbone. But the hurt was something else. He wasn’t into inflicting pain. In fact, he’d wanted to make certain his child would be okay, wouldn’t suffer as he and Jack had. But maybe he’d gotten carried away.

  She grabbed his chin and stood on tiptoe to try to achieve his eye level. And her voice sank to a contemptuous whisper, making Austin wonder just exactly what his efforts had unleashed. He never would have imagined this tiger inside Candice Vanausdale’s petite kitten’s body.

  “To think I was feeling sorry for you earlier with your sad, puppy-dog eyes and unhappy hints about your mother. When all the time you were inwardly laughing at me, trying to humiliate me.”

  That did it. Austin did the only thing he could think of to snap her out of her hurt and convince her otherwise; he moved his hands to her waist and leaned to cover her mouth with his.

  She stiffened in shock, but at least she wasn’t fighting him. Still, she wasn’t responding yet, either.

  He ran the tip of his tongue across her tightly closed lips, conscious of her rigidity beneath his hands. All she needed was a little more coaxing to relax and let him kiss the hurt away, he decided. In the meantime, he wouldn’t think about the hard points of her breasts poking his chest, or her belly pressed against his. Neither would he give a thought to the delicious feeling of her pelvic bone pressing against the straining hardness in his jeans.

  Lord Almighty, but she was a taste of Heaven. She fit him in all the right places, and the heat between them should definitely be labeled a fire hazard. If only she would realize it.

  He continued to coax her lips apart in tiny, gratifying degrees. Finally, he sighed as her mouth opened to his. She tasted of pizza and the sweet, sweet honey of desire, and he moaned from the sheer pleasure of it.

  The second moan was not his, however, and the instant he realized this, Austins control dropped a few yards shy of a goal. A touchdown wasn’t far away, but, hell, he couldn’t take advantage of her like this. She might be tough, but he knew—knew—that she was also breakable.

  Oh, and don’t forget pregnant. Austin eased his hold on her and slowly, ever so reluctantly, pulled his lips away and settled them on her cheek. Her warm breath came in tiny, rapid puffs against his face. He wasn’t a bit surprised to find his voice thick. “I swear I wasn’t making fun of you.” He felt her lashes sweep his cheek as she slowly opened her eyes. A butterfly kiss, he remembered from a long time ago. What nanny had told him that?

  At the moment, it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but that she believe him.

  When she moved her head to his shoulder, she unintentionally buried his face in her hair. Austin inhaled the smell of green apples, then released his breath on a ragged sigh. His knees felt ridiculously weak, reminding him of his younger days and necking in the backseat at drive-ins. “You—you didn’t finish eating.”

  “No. I didn’t.” She lifted her head to look at him before she stepped away.

  Austin envied her resilience. She was flushed, and there was an odd, dazed expression on her face, he thought smugly, but damned if she didn’t walk straight, which he couldn’t do. He felt drunk on desire and antsy at the same time.

  Hell, why didn’t he just admit it? The lady turned him on, rich or not, pregnant or not! Pregnant… with his baby. Austin paused to steady himself against the wall, the enormity of that fact hitting him squarely in the belly.

  He wanted her, but he had never made love to her, and she was already carrying his child. Fire spread quickly, racing to his groin. The thought, the simple, irrefutable fact that she carried his child, turned him on?

  The realization staggered him, nearly buckled his desire-weakened knees. He leaned against the wall, glad Candice appeared too bashful to look at him.

  Well, I never. One of his nannies used to say that, usually in response to some prank he or Jack had instigated.

  A nanny. Something he was determined his child would never have to suffer. Okay, so they hadn’t all been bad, but the statistics had not been good.

  Six months. He had six months to work on this wealthy woman, to convince her how wonderful raising a baby could be. To make her understand that a child absolutely needed a mother who cared and proved it. To show her how to have fun and enjoy life, so she could better be that healthy, happy mother.

  And he had to do all of this without taking the mother of his child to bed and making wild, never-ending love to her?

  Austin began to chuckle. The chuckles grew into belly laughs, the more he thought about his predicament. Through laughter-induced tears, he saw Candice staring at him. He tried to imagine how she would look if he blurted out the truth right now, and the image sent him into harder laughter.

  She couldn’t have known what he was laughing about, but something in his expression must have reassured her, for she smiled. Then giggled. Finally she laughed along with him.

  Somehow, he made it to the table and fell into the chair opposite hers. Wiping his streaming eyes, he finally managed to contain his hilarity. She was a good sport about it, handing him a napkin and chuckling as if she knew exactly what he was laughing about.

  And this thought nearly set him off again. To bring himself under control, he forced himself to think of more serious things. Okay, so this was serious, but he needed something that would take his mind off the fact that the woman sitting across from him was going to h
ave his baby and didn’t know it.

  Wouldn’t believe it, most likely. Hell, no most about it. She would not believe it. She would think it an absurd lie designed to get her into the sack. Fact was, if Austin believed it would work, he’d be tempted to tell her.

  But then, he reminded himself, he’d been the one to stop what had started happening, and he’d best remember why. She’d been through a lot, what with losing her husband and now having to deal with his obnoxious relatives, and with a baby on the way, to boot. He was no pregnancy expert—he hadn’t even finished the book From Discovery to Delivery—but he was smart enough to realize she didn’t need the added stress a new sexual relationship would bring.

  Oh, sure, there were definite pluses, but Austin thought they were mostly to his advantage. This lady was manna to the media, and they would eat her alive if they ever found out. And so would her husband’s relatives. Between them, they would break her into a million pieces and sweep what was left of her under the rug.

  Well, he would do what he could to keep her safe from all that. Jack had done enough damage.

  Speaking of Jack… damn him. Now things had become even more tangled.

  “I’m sorry,” they both said at once, finally daring to look at each other.

  Candice blushed, and Austin thought it was the most endearing thing he’d ever seen. He couldn’t fathom how she’d kept such innocence, and he didn’t know why it mattered to him.

  “I shouldn’t have—”

  “I didn’t mean to—”

  They both halted again and eyed each other as if for the first time. She had crossed her arms and now looked quite at ease with her hair down and wearing his football jersey. But gazing at her mussed hair reminded him of how it had gotten that way, leaving him anything but at ease.

  Seeking a distraction, he went to the desk in a corner of the room and retrieved the object he’d found beneath her window after the trespasser had frightened her into fainting. He wished he’d gotten his hands on the bastard, but at least they now had a clue.

  She unfolded her arms and sat up, tension returning to her face as she stared at the diamond-studded gold wristwatch he placed on the table. “Where did you find this?” Picking it up, she turned it over, studying it with a puzzled frown.

  Austin watched her face intently, hating to be the one who’d put the frown there. “On the ground below the east guest bedroom window, after you saw the intruder. It must have come off while he was climbing on the trellis.”

  “So that’s how he got up there.” She set down the timepiece, looking disgusted and weary.

  Austin resisted the urge to cuddle her against his shoulder. It wouldn’t be wise, no matter how much she looked as if she needed it. “Ever seen it before?”

  “No. But it’s expensive.”

  “I gathered that,” he said dryly. She’d never suspect how much he knew about diamonds and gold. His mother had loved jewelry—more than she’d loved her own kids. “And I can’t imagine a reporter wearing this, can you? So that leaves… ?” He had his suspicions, but he wanted to see if she agreed with him.

  Her gaze met his, somber and heart-tugging. “My in-laws. They must be getting desperate to get some mud on me. Luke says they don’t stand a chance of winning, but—”

  “Luke?” Austin growled. “Who’s Luke?” He had assumed she was all alone in the world, except for Mrs. Merryweather, of course. The thought of another man in her life cut through his gut like a scythe. Which was stupid, because he knew he didn’t own her just because she carried his baby. Right?

  Well…

  “Luke McVey. He’s my lawyer.”

  He didn’t like that winsome smile. And this Luke guy? Probably a stuck-up, suit-wearing, slick-haired—

  “He’s also a friend.”

  Hell. Austin decided not to hound her about the friend part. She didn’t need the stress, he reminded himself. He’d just have to find out on his own in due time. Because of the unusual circumstances of her carrying his baby, of course.

  Taking his seat, he crossed his arms and tried not to stare at the way her hair shimmered in the light. Expensive shampoo could do that, he told himself. Probably wasn’t her natural color anyway. The moment he thought it, he cursed to himself, because it reminded him of how he could find out. He just managed to contain an anguished groan.

  Damn Jack.

  Double damn Jack.

  He cleared his throat, hoping that would somehow clear his mind. Get it good and clean. “Just how far do you think these people would go to get at you?” At his question, her frown returned, and so did the shadows in her eyes. He liked them better when they were blazing with fire, or dazed with desire.

  “I don’t know. I really don’t. Mrs. Merryweather… thinks I’m not serious enough about the danger.”

  “That settles it then.” Austin tightened his jaw. He could do it—for the baby. And yes, for Candice. Mrs. Dale. Maybe it would be a good idea to keep calling her that, just as a self-reminder. “I’m moving into the big house,” he announced.

  Chapter Seven

  Believing he was teasing her again, Candice waited for laughter, a smile, that tiny glimmer of wicked amusement she was becoming accustomed to seeing in his handsome features.

  His jaw remained hard and square, his eyes dead serious. What an excellent poker face—if it was a bluff.

  Finally, she broke the tension with a little laugh, which came out as a squeak. “You’re kidding, right?”

  He shook his head slowly.

  “But why? What would your staying in the… house achieve?”

  “Your safety. My peace of mind. Probably Mrs. Merryweather’s, too.”

  Well, Candice wasn’t too sure about that, considering Mrs. Merryweather’s suspicions about Mr. Hyde himself. Also, there was this… attraction to consider. Just the thought of Austin Hyde sleeping under the same roof with her made her warm and achy in unmentionable places. Hormones, of course. She made a mental note to ask Dr. Robinson about this phenomenon during her next visit. And to find out what she could do about it.

  His soft voice commanded her attention. “Unless you don’t trust me?”

  Instinctively, Candice sensed her answer was important to him. She didn’t know or understand why, but it added to the warmth building within her by slow degrees.

  Knowing this, experiencing this strange, aching reaction, how could she even consider his suggestion? It wasn’t only Austin she didn’t trust. After what had happened here tonight, she didn’t have much faith in her own self-control, either. She had enjoyed his touch, his kiss, his closeness, and the wondrous desire he’d stirred inside her.

  Deciding the watch on the table needed her undivided attention, she cast her gaze down and mumbled, “Do you think it’s wise?” He knew what she meant, didn’t he? A quick peek up showed that he did. His lips had curved into a rueful smile, and she watched him shrug.

  “If I promise to be good?”

  Candice crossed her legs at. his low, husky entreaty. She had to. Something was certainly out of whack with her body, because her inner thighs were quivering. So was her voice, she discovered. “You weren’t being bad… it’s just that this is the worst possible time for me to… get involved with anyone.” And I’m pregnant with another man’s child. The silent reminder jolted her down to her bare toes. Austin Hyde actually desired her, even knowing this? She didn’t know much about these things, but it somehow seemed odd.

  Or maybe Mr. Hyde had forgotten about her condition during those few heated, wonderful moments.

  “I understand.” He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck and grimaced. “I… I was out of line tonight. It won’t happen again unless you want it to.”

  He sounded sincere, which, perversely, hurt Candice’s feelings.

  Then he added something that wiped out her recent theory about his forgetting about her condition.

  “However, I think you should consider the baby. His or her safety.”

  Slowly but surely
he was tumbling her excuses, weaving a spell of enchantment and longing with his low-voiced logic. Candice had to admit the prospect of his presence in the house held appeal. And maybe he wouldn’t mind spending a few evenings painting and working on the nursery. After all, he was the handyman, and he’d be right there. Her mind latched on to the thought like a lifeline.

  Her conscience snorted sarcastically, reminding her that he was only about forty-five seconds away living over the garage.

  To the dismay of her conscience, though, she heard herself agreeing. “Maybe it’s not such a bad idea. Maybe I’d sleep better, knowing—” No, she wouldn’t. She licked her lips. “Mrs. Merryweather would sleep better, knowing you were in the house. But what about the media? If they found out a man was—”

  “They won’t. And if they do, then we’ll say I’m your bodyguard, which won’t be a lie.”

  She fingered the hem of the football jersey, then uncrossed her legs. The way he looked at her made her fidget like a schoolgirl in study hall. “Why are you doing all this?”

  Austin chuckled, his white teeth flashing in his suntanned face. Candice swallowed. Lord, but his smile held the kick of a 110 volts.

  “Would you believe me if I said it was for the money?”

  Before she could think, she shook her head.

  He inclined his own, as if he weren’t surprised. “Then I’d have to say that I like your company. It’s a little lonely living out here. Besides, I really do worry about you and the baby, especially after today.”

  Candice tensed. “You didn’t live alone before?” Was there a woman? Was he divorced? Tomorrow, she would make that call to Jack Cruise before she went stark raving mad with curiosity! And then the rest of his words caught up with her. He worried about her and the baby.

  Before she could delve into the questions his statement aroused, he answered her first query momentarily confusing her.

  “Roommate.” He let a few seconds pass before he added, “Male. Another good-for-nothing artist.”

  Her objection was spontaneous. “I happen to admire artists.” What would he say if she told him she had artistic aspirations herself? Well, technically woodcarving was probably a craft. But, either way, she wasn’t ready to reveal that part of herself, to risk ridicule, even though he didn’t seem the type who would. Another thing she had noticed about Mr. Hyde was that he wasn’t judgmental.