"I can't believe this." Megan rooted through the back of her car and came up empty again. "What kind of mother would leave her child's birthday present home?"
"A busy one," said Ingrid, massaging the small of her back. "I'm surprised you managed to finish the cake." She sighed loudly. "I wish I could've been more help with the party, but...." Her voice trailed off.
"Good grief, Ingrid. Offering up your house for this shindig is more than any enough."
Ingrid grinned. "You do realize I'll get my own back when you take care of Stace for us while I'm in the hospital."
"Stace is a doll. We love having her around." Megan climbed behind the wheel. "I'll be back as fast as I can. The girl with the pony should be here any minute." She started the engine then checked the rearview mirror. "Tell Miguel I'll be forever in his debt if he'll film Jenny and--"
"Go get the present," said Ingrid. "We'll take care of everything else."
#
"Damn it," Jake swore as he turned down yet another rundown residential street. He'd been driving around for twenty minutes and he had yet to find 56 Tecumseh Avenue. In fact he was beginning to doubt there even was a Tecumseh Avenue.
The address had to be wrong. He looked around at the tiny houses with their parched lawns and old cars crowding the driveways. Megan wouldn't be caught dead driving through a neighborhood like this, much less working here.
He'd noticed a gas station about a mile back. Maybe somebody there would be able to tell him where he'd gone wrong. He was about to make a U-turn when in someone's driveway when he caught a glimpse of a street sign that was hanging by one bolt. T UM EH. Tecumseh. It had to be. He swung a quick right onto the narrow street and peered at the house numbers.
Number 56 was a tiny cottage, not much bigger than the one he owned on La Mirada. Someone had carefully painted it a pale yellow with crisp white trim. Flower boxes, heavy with red blooms, were at each window. A little Ford wagon that had seen better days idled in the driveway. Megan lived here? Not bloody likely.
He braked to a stop in front of the house turned off the engine. Still it wouldn't hurt to check.
#
Jenny's birthday present was in the tool shed, hidden behind the grass catcher, right where Megan had left it. The tool shed was the only place she could be certain Jenny wouldn't look because she might run into spiders.
Megan dusted a fine layer of grass clippings off the brightly-wrapped package, adjusted the bow, then ran back into the house for her sunglasses. She was debating the wisdom of locking the kitchen window when the telephone rang.
"Better come back right away," said Ingrid. "I think I'm in labor."
"Good grief, Ingrid, you're kidding!"
"I never kid about labor. Hurry up, Meg."
She popped on her sunglasses, grabbed the birthday present, then hurried toward the front door as footsteps crunched their way up the walkway. The UPS. woman, maybe. Or a FedEx delivery. She'd ordered some twenty-quart stockpots a few weeks back. It would be nice if the darned things arrived before the big Cooper-Hardison wedding next month. If they didn't, she'd be making clear consomme for three hundred in metal washtubs.
"I'm in a rush," she called out as she swung open the door. "If there's anything for me to sign, I'll--"
She stopped. It wasn't UPS or FedEx or the U. S. Mail.
It was Jake.
And he was looking for a fight.
Chapter Eight
The thing to do was act cool even though her hands were shaking. If Jake had shown up an hour earlier, he would have been standing right there at the foot of the walkway staring at his daughter. Megan whispered a quick prayer of thanks for good friends and birthday parties.
Head high, she stepped out onto the rickety porch. He had a black eye, she noted. Her only regret was that she wasn't the one who'd given it to him. "What are you doing here?"
"What the hell do you think I'm doing here?"
"I'm not in the mood for riddles, Jake. Just tell me what you want then leave."
"What if I don't, Megan?" He stepped closer. "What'll you do, run away?"
"I have this thing about liars," she said smoothly. "I can't help myself. I just automatically run in the opposite direction."
"Not this time," he said.
In a blink of an eye he was standing on the step in front of her and she was in his arms.
"Jake, I--"
His kiss was angry. So was her response. A ferocious mating of will and desire that left her breathless and enraged.
He broke the kiss but not the hold he had on her arms.
Her eyes widened but she didn't give an inch. "We're going to talk," he said.
"The hell we are." She wanted to storm off but he held her tight.
"You know I own Tropicale, don't you?"
"Remind me to send Val some flowers. If it hadn't been for her, I'd still think you were a lowly piano player."
"I was going to tell you that night."
"Right," she said, with a bitter laugh. "After you got what you wanted between the sheets."
"There's more to it than that."
"Sure there is." Her voice broke but she recovered quickly. "If you don't leave in the next thirty seconds, I'll call the police."
"Not if I don't let you."
"You don't scare me."
"No?" His eyes glittered with dark fire. "Then you're not paying attention. We're going to talk if I have to tie you up and lock you in a room."
"Big talk from a man who gets his kicks slumming with the masses. Now I know how you got the black eye."
"Who's slumming?" he asked, ignoring the comment about his eye. "This isn't exactly the Ritz-Carlton you're visiting."
She took a deep breath. "I'm not visiting."
"Your partner's place?"
She shook her head.
He looked skeptical. "I get it," he said. "This is where you do your cooking."
"Wrong again." She glanced at her watch. "Ten seconds, Jake, and then I'm calling the police. You're not welcome here."
"You're not planning to stay here all night, are you?"
She lifted her chin. "So what if I am?"
"This is a lousy neighborhood. It probably gets lousier after dark."
"This is a terrific neighborhood," she shot back. "Too bad it isn't fancy enough for your nouveau riche tastes."
#
An alternate universe, that's what it was. The real Megan McLean wouldn't say something like that.
"Since when did you become a populist?" Jake remembered the girl who thought anything south of Palm Beach was swampland fit only for gators and rednecks. He released his hold on her. "You must be counting the minutes until you can run home."
"Go away," she said, poking her finger into his chest. The look in her eyes was fierce. "Why don't you go back to Australia and chase kangaroos?"
"Come with me to Australia," he said, ignoring the way her hands were clenched into fists. "Let me show you where I grew up."
"I don't give a damn where you grew up." She shoved him in the general direction of the street. "I just want you to leave."
"Sign the contract with Tropicale and I'll leave."
"I'd rather be dead."
"Don't push me," he growled. "Now let's go back to your place and straighten this whole thing out."
"This is my place."
"You can do better than that."
"Damn you. I am telling the truth." The fire in her eyes was softened by unshed tears.
"You live here?"
"I live here."
"What about the house in Palm Beach?" Her father's pink palace where the beautiful princess lived in splendor.
"There is no house in Palm Beach."
"You sold it?"
"The bank and two mortgage companies relieved me of that particular burden."
"You're telling me your father's insurance didn't cover it?"
She looked as if she'd rather walk across a bed of hot coals than answer his questions. "There was no insurance, Jake." Sh
e met his eyes. "No insurance. No stocks. No bonds. Nothing."
"With all his money?" Jake tried to fathom her expression. "Look, I was no fan of your father's, but he wasn't that old. He probably didn't think--"
"You don't get it, do you?" she asked, her voice rising. "My father didn't just die, Jake. He killed himself. He walked straight out into the ocean and he never came back." She looked away for a moment. "And he didn't give a damn if I died right along with him." Darrin McLean had gambled away his assets on slow horses and fast women, and when it all became too much he took the easy--and permanent--way out.
His gut burned with rage. "That son of a bitch threw you to the wolves."
She didn't deny it. She didn't do anything at all, except meet his gaze head on. For the first time he understood the shadow of vulnerability he'd seen in her eyes. It hadn't been his imagination. It had been real. All too real.
"I don't want you living like this," he said. "I can help you to--"
"I don't need your charity and I don't particularly want your company." Her voice shook with anger. "Now if you'll excuse me, I was on my way out."
"We're not finished."
"Oh yes, we are."
"I fucked up," he said. "I admit it. I should've told you right up front that I owned the company."
"Get out of my way," she said. "I don't want to see your face ever again."
"Grow up, Meggie." His temper flared. "If you'd stop running and start listening, we might be able to work this out."
"Work what out? There's nothing to work out." She shoved him again, harder this time. "You mean nothing to me, Jake. All you are is a mistake I'd rather forget."
He grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her body up against his.
"Jake, if you--"
"Shut up." His mouth slanted across hers hungrily. Her lips parted in surprise. He took full advantage of her moment of weakness as his hands cupped the heavy fullness of her breasts.
"I despise you," she said, breaking the kiss. "Only a bastard would take advantage of the situation."
"Only a fool would let it pass."
"Go ahead," she said, taunting him. "Show me what a big man you are. There's nothing I can do to stop you."
"You're right," he said. "If I wanted to take you right here in your front yard, there's not one damn thing you could do to stop me. But that's not what I want and you know it."
"I pity you," she said, pulling away from his grasp. "You don't have any idea about what's important in life."
"And you do?" He laughed. "I saw you on the cruise, Megan. You were desperate to land the franchise." He gestured toward the house. "Now I know why. You're counting the days until you're back in Palm Beach where you belong."
"You don't know what you're talking about."
"The hell I don't."
"I'm not--" She stopped. "Forget it. This conversation is pointless." What on earth was she going to do? Ingrid was in labor. She had to get back there and watch the kids even if it meant she risked having Jake discover Jenny's existence. She started for her car. "Follow me," she said over her shoulder, "and I swear I'll have you arrested."
She climbed into the car and started the engine. Her hands shook so badly she could barely hold the steering wheel. Take a deep breath, she ordered herself. Jake was as tenacious as a bulldog. He'd be tough to lose but she would do anything she had to, short of driving into oncoming traffic.
Gunning the engine, she roared out of the driveway and zoomed down the street with Jake in hot pursuit. For a while it seemed she'd have to drive all the way to Key West with him right behind her as she attempted to lose him in traffic. If she had to she would drive off a bridge. No way on earth was she going to lead him to Jenny.
Sweat broke out along her hairline and trickled down the back of her neck. Ingrid...she had to get there for Ingrid. Not even hard labor would convince Ingrid to leave those kids alone. Megan entertained horrifying visions of her partner giving birth in the middle of the birthday party with a score of horrified six year olds in attendance.
She finally ditched him forty minutes later. A quick right, a sharp left, then a ridiculous race through a parking lot and she was free. Badly shaken, she pulled off to the side of the road and burst into tears of relief.
This can't be happening, she thought as she started once again for Ingrid's house and her daughter's birthday party. Jake wasn't supposed to show up on her doorstep, demanding apologies and explanations, drawing responses from her that she'd sell her soul to the devil not to feel.
She wanted to grab Jenny and run. California, maybe. Or Seattle. Some little town in the middle of Montana where Jake could never find them. He was too wild, too unpredictable. He knew nothing about being part of a family and he cared even less.
She'd spent much of her life looking for a hero, but there were no heroes any longer. Maybe there never had been. A long time ago she had believed her father would move mountains to keep her safe from harm. Discovering the truth made her question everything she'd believed as a child. Everything she'd considered important as a young woman.
That wasn't going to happen to Jenny. Not as long as there was breath in her body. If it meant they had to pull up stakes and move to another house, then so be it. Jake's attention span had never been very good. He had other things to think about besides tormenting his ex-wife and sooner or later she would fade back into memory.
Ingrid wouldn't mind if she and Jenny stayed with them for a night or two, just long enough for Megan to decide what to do next. Megan could take care of the house for Miguel and Stace while Ingrid was in the hospital.
With a little luck, Jake would climb back on board his boat and sail out of her life forever.
She drove the rest of the way to Ingrid's house with one eye on the road and one eye on the rearview mirror, but there was no sign of Jake. Thank God. She was able to plaster a fairly normal smile on her face as she pulled into the driveway. The horse trailer from Rent-A-Pony was parked in front of the house. She wished she'd seen Jenny's face when Sparkles arrived but she consoled herself that there would be other birthdays. The wonderful sound of children's laughter floated toward her from the back yard and, despite everything, she smiled as Jenny's sweet voice rose above the others.
This was what it was all about. The pain and heartache. The loneliness and the hard work. It had nothing to do with five-bedroom houses and fancy cars...or a man who would break her heart in two. Her daughter's happiness meant the world to her and she'd been crazy to believe she needed anything else--or anyone--to make her life complete.
"Ingrid!" she called out. "Did you call Miguel? I--"
"Oh, thank God you're here!" A young girl Megan recognized as one of Ingrid's neighbors popped up at her side. She had the camcorder clutched in her hands. "You wouldn't believe what happened." Her face wrinkled comically. "It was really gross. Mrs. Chavez's water broke right there on the patio. I was really scared the baby was just gonna pop right out near the barbecue pit."
"Ingrid left for the hospital?"
The girl nodded vigorously. "Mr. Chavez cleaned up the gunk and they went off to the hospital. My mom and me said we'd watch the kids until you got back."
Megan looked over to the laughing knot of little girls who were waiting for the chance to ride Sparkles, the Happy Birthday Pony. Jenny was right in the thick of things. "They don't look any the worse for the wear." She looked back at the teenager. "How did you handle their questions?"
"There weren't any," said the girl with a shrug. "Sparkles showed up and ponies are a lot more interesting than babies."
Megan counted her blessings. She was all in favor of telling kids the truth about the facts of life, but six seemed a little young to explain the wonders of the placental sac. She took the camcorder from the girl.
"Thanks for your help," she said. "I can take over from here."
"I don't mind," said the girl. "I was kind of hoping to get a ride on Sparkles myself." She gave Megan a sheepish look. "If you don't mind
, that is."
Megan laughed. "Don't let me stop you. If Sparkles doesn't have any objections then it's okay with me."
With a whoop of excitement the young girl practically galloped across the yard to wait her turn.
Megan looked at the camcorder with dismay. It didn't look all that difficult to use. She'd tried her hand at it last Christmas when Ingrid and Miguel wanted a family record of opening presents beneath the tree.
"First the lens cap comes off," she muttered. "Then you check the light meter."
"Tape," said a familiar voice behind her. "Make sure you have enough tape."
God, no. Please not now...not here.
"Great driving, Meggie," he said in that infuriatingly sexy Aussie voice of his. If I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to get away from me."
"I was trying to get away from you."
He gestured toward the kids waiting for their turn to ride Sparkles. "Since when did you go into the babysitting business?"
She felt lightheaded with fear. "This is my partner's house."
"She has one hell of a big family."
"It's a birthday party, you fool," she snapped, spinning around to glare up at him.
"So where is your partner? I'd like to meet the money behind your operation before you sign on the dotted line."
"I'm not signing on the dotted line. You can take your contract and--"
"That temper of yours always did get you into trouble, Meggie. How does your partner like it when you run away at the first sign of rough weather? That's not going to get you back to Palm Beach."
She didn't look at him. She didn't acknowledge his words. Turning on her heel she headed for the patio telephone.
"If you're calling for pizza, make mine pepperoni," he drawled, following close behind.
"I'm calling the police," she said through gritted teeth. "This is harassment and I won't stand for it."
"The Miami police force has enough to worry about. Don't waste their time."
"The hell I won't." She grabbed for the phone but he got there first. "So help me, Jake, I'll--"
"I'm leaving in a few days," he said without preamble. "It's now or never. Come with me, Meggie. We'll work it out while we see the world. We have another ship ready to sail out of Bermuda. Then I'm flying to Hawaii and--"
Her Bad Boy Billionaire Lover (Billionaire Lovers) Page 11