At The Millionaire's Request. Teresa Southwick

of treatment. He wanted his son back now. At the very least, he wanted guarantees and a time frame.

      “I don’t know.”

      “You can’t make a guess based on experience? When my father was dying of cancer, the doctors gave me an estimate and it turned out to be almost to the day,” he snapped.

      “That’s an entirely different situation. Medical doctors have studies and data and tests that help them make an educated guess. In situations like this, there can’t be a specific timetable. Every child is different. Every injury is different.”

      “Can you give me a ballpark estimate?”

      “No.” She met his gaze. “But I can tell you that it might go faster if you get involved in the therapy.”

      “You mean, doing puzzles?”

      “That was brain exercise and therapy for hand-eye coordination,” she said.

      “It looked like playing to me.”

      “If therapy techniques weren’t disguised as fun, how cooperative do you think Sean would be?”

      “Obviously, I don’t know anything about speech language therapy. How much help could I be?”

      “I can show you what to do. I distinctly remember that you promised to do whatever it takes to help your son. I believe you said I could count on you.” The tender tone was gone, replaced by toughness.

      And she was right; he had promised. She met him toe-to-toe and wouldn’t blink. Part of him respected her for that. On the other hand, he didn’t as a rule notice when an employee’s smile made her pretty. That thought was followed by irrational anger, which didn’t bode well for tact.

      “You’re the expert, Ms. Taylor. It’s why I pay you the big bucks.”

      Any earlier traces of warmth and patience disappeared. “Is this third degree really about Sean?”

      “What do you mean?” he asked.

      “Are you implying that I’m dragging out a child’s therapy for financial gain?”

      “Are you?”

      “That would be unethical.” Her mouth tightened and anger flashed in her eyes, making them a darker shade of blue.

      You’re beautiful when you’re angry. The thought jumped into his mind before he could stop it. In that moment, she was striking. Something inside him responded, stirred to life, and he regretted it instantly.

      Again his temper took over. “This wouldn’t be the first time someone held a child’s life hostage.”

      “What does that mean?” she demanded.

      It meant he’d been stupid once. A woman had used his child to get to him and he wouldn’t let it happen a second time. M.J. seemed warm and real and sincere. But what if he was wrong again?

      When he didn’t answer, she stood. “Gavin, you’ve made it clear that you believe everyone has a price. But I’m not everyone and you don’t know me.”

      He was getting to know her, and he wasn’t sure yet if that was a problem. “What’s your point?”

      “Just this—you were the one who badgered me into taking this job. If you don’t trust me, I’ll gladly walk out that door. You’re paying me for my skill, but you have no idea what it’s costing me. That little boy is—”

      The bleak expression was back in her eyes. “What, M.J.?”

      She swallowed several times, then caught her top lip between her teeth. Finally she said, “Sean is the same age Brian would have been.”

      That took the heat out of his temper. “I didn’t know.”

      “There’s a lot you don’t know about me. And I don’t know you. I don’t know why you’re cynical and determined to mistrust everything I do. I did warn you that I’m not the way I was, that my abilities are impaired, but you insisted. I promised you that I would do the best I could under the circumstances. But if you’ve changed your mind, say the word and it would be my pleasure to resign.”

      Gavin studied her. He could almost see the anger drain out of her, replaced by weariness. Dark circles bruised the soft skin beneath her eyes and it had nothing to do with getting popped while breaking up a high school scuffle. But it might have a lot to do with the hard knocks in her life.

      On top of that, she taught full-time and worked with Sean three evenings a week. He’d just seen for himself that the therapy demanded a high level of energy and attention. It wouldn’t violate his rules to give her the benefit of the doubt.

      “I haven’t changed my mind,” he said.

      She met his gaze. “If you do, don’t hesitate to let me know.”

      Then she walked out. After she said goodbye to Sean, Gavin followed her and opened the front door, but she walked out without looking back. She got in the car and turned the key in the ignition several times before the engine caught.

      He watched the red taillights of her old car until they disappeared in the fog. He’d never thought he was the type to form an opinion about a person based on appearance, but now he wasn’t so sure. He’d thought M. J. Taylor pale and plain, but a few minutes ago he’d seen flash and fire in her. There was more to her than he’d first thought and he suspected there was far more than the little she’d revealed.

      He realized he was staring into the swirling mist and closed the door. If only he could close off his thoughts as easily. He hadn’t spent this much mental energy on a woman in a long time.

      And that time had been a disaster.