The Baby Project. Grace Green

lawyers in the country. You wouldn’t have a hope in hell of beating me.” His smile was faintly malicious. “It’s my turn, sweetheart. You won hands down when it came to the wedding; I’ll beat you hands down when it comes to the baby. Seems only fair.”

      “You don’t care about Matthew, do you! All you care about is winning!”

      “But I think you’ll agree with me, when you simmer down, that shared custody is the best option.”

      She drew in a very deep breath. “I agree,” she said reluctantly, “that it’s worth considering.”

      “Good. Because even though I know I’d win a custody battle, I’d prefer not to go that route. It wouldn’t be in Matthew’s best interests; he’d be better off with both of us looking after his welfare. Furthermore, as I said, he’s used to you, and for his sake it would be better to hire you than hire a stranger to look after him.”

      “Hire me?” She gaped at him. “Hire me?”

      “Weren’t you paying attention? I said, you’d be right for the job, and ‘job’ is what I meant. You stay in the house, rent-free, and I pay you—well, whatever good nannies get paid.” He pushed himself off the table and towered over her. “Take it or leave it, Mallory. That’s the deal.”

      She sprang to her feet and glared up at him. “And what happens if you decide to get married? You’d have me out on the street in two seconds flat.”

      His grin was lazy. “Not a problem, sweetheart. I don’t plan on marrying. Ever.”

      “That’s what you say now. But how do I know that somewhere down the road you won’t meet somebody, fall in love, and all of a sudden there’s a new bride at Number Five Seaside Lane. Somebody who loves children and doesn’t want me around! No.” She squared her shoulders rigidly. “I won’t do it. I won’t risk it.”

      “I’d be taking that chance too, Mallory. You don’t have the resources at present to fight me in court…but what if you were to meet some millionaire and get married?”

      “I have no plans,” she said coldly, “to marry. Millionaire or no millionaire.”

      “That’s what you say now.” In a flat tone, he echoed her own words. “And I’m not prepared to risk it either.”

      As they stared at each other, Mallory felt a sinking sensation. “It seems,” she said defeatedly, “that we’ve reached an impasse. I don’t trust you, and you don’t trust me.”

      “Then we’ll just have to sign a contract. Make it legal. I don’t marry; you don’t marry.”

      “I don’t think that would stand up in any court.”

      He sighed. “Probably not. Look.” He rubbed the heel of one hand over his beard, making a rasping sound. “We can make this work. Trust me. I promise you, I’m not going to marry. I don’t want a wife. I don’t want to be tied down.”

      “I’d like to believe you, but people change—”

      “For God’s sake, Mallory, what do I have to do to convince you?”

      She drew in a deep breath. “I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t know what you could do to convince me. But I could never agree to shared custody unless I have absolute faith that any agreement between us would be absolutely rock solid and permanent. I need that security. Because of Matthew. I love him too much to take any chances.”

      Jordan walked away from her, back to the edge of the deck, and looked out over the garden again.

      The robin had returned. It ran about the lawn, halting every few seconds to cock its head and look around with its sharp inquisitive eyes. Mallory watched it, her own gaze slightly blurred, her heart filled with despair. She and Jordan had, indeed, reached an impasse.

      And she could see no way out.

      She was standing there dismally, when she heard the phone ring inside.

      She made her way to the kitchen and picked up the handset from the wall phone.

      “Hello,” she said. “Mallory Madison speaking.”

      “This is Celia, Ms. Madison, at Burton Barton Realty. May I speak to Mr. Caine?”

      “Mr. Caine’s outside. Could you hold on a minute, please, and—”

      “I’m here.”

      Mallory turned and saw Jordan coming into the kitchen. She held out the phone. “It’s Burton Barton Realty.”

      He nodded, and murmured “Thanks’ as he took the phone. Then he said, “Jordan Caine here. Oh, hi, Celia…”

      He listened for a few moments, before saying, “Two o’clock it is.” Replacing the receiver, he announced, “Burton has a client coming to see the place at two.”

      Mallory leaned back against the countertop, glad of its support as her legs had become weak. “Word travels fast.”

      “It’s a prime property, in a prime location.”

      “I guess.”

      “Celia suggested we take off when they’re here. It’s inhibiting for the client when the occupants are around.”

      “We’d better have a quick lunch, then, and once we’re done, I’ll feed Matthew.”

      Forcing herself to move, Mallory walked to the fridge. “It’s not going to be anything very fancy. I brought enough food from Seattle for Matthew, but I haven’t had time to do the rest of my grocery shopping—I’ll go to the supermarket when Burton and his client come. Elsa’s left me some deli meat and buns, though. We can have ham sandwiches.”

      While they ate lunch, Mallory said—hardly daring to hope, “Have you given up your plan to fight me for Matthew?”

      “What makes you think that?”

      “You said that if you had custody of Matthew, you’d keep the house. And you also said that if we agreed to shared custody, you’d keep the house. Now since you’ve gone back to your original plan to sell, I have to deduce that you’ve counted both those options out. Does that mean you’ve given up your plan to fight me for him?”

      “No,” he said. “I intend to fight you for Matthew…”

      Mallory had just taken a small bite of her sandwich; as he spoke she almost choked on it.

      “…and I’ll win. But I’ve had second thoughts about keeping the house. It’ll be handier for me if Matthew’s closer to an airport. That way, when I fly in from overseas, I won’t have to waste time driving all the way to Seashore. I’ll buy a condo in Seattle. Downtown.”

      “A condo? Downtown?’ Mallory glowered at him. “Jordan Caine, you don’t know the first thing about bringing up children! A little boy needs a backyard, a place to play safely outside—”

      “The nanny can take him to a park.” His tone was careless. “He’ll survive. Other kids do.”

      Stomach churning, Mallory put down her sandwich and said scornfully, “You claim to have Matthew’s interests at heart. I don’t believe you. All you care about is getting back at me. You know how you’ll hurt me if you take Matthew from me, and you’ll take the greatest pleasure out of that. You really are contemptible!”

      “Tut, Mallory, watch your blood pressure.” His eyes had a taunting gleam as they fixed on her topknot. “Hair that colour…” He shook his head and looked as if he was trying to control laughter. “Quite a liability.”

      “Not such a liability as being born without a heart!” she snapped back. “And that’s such a cliché,” she added in a scathing tone, “about red hair—” But before she could go on, the front doorbell chimed.

      Pushing back her chair, she rose abruptly to her feet