you like getting between teenage boys with more testosterone than brains?”
M.J. glared at Gavin. Unable to hide it from her mother, she’d glossed over the cause of the cheek bruise. But he’d obviously filled in the blanks and she really wished he hadn’t. “At school kids would call you a narc.”
“Nice.”
“Not so much. You ratted me out to my mother.”
“Don’t be mad at him,” Evelyn protested. “We were simply chatting and he assumed I knew the particulars.”
M.J. realized something bothered her more than the fact that he’d given her mother the ugly details. It was that he was here at all. How did he know where she lived? Why did he think her answer to his offer would be any different this time? She had no illusions that he was here for any other reason. She was an un-remarkable woman, not the sort who inspired to-the-ends-of-the-earth passion in a man like him. He wouldn’t notice her unless he wanted something only she could give. That was annoying enough, but even worse was that on some level it mattered to her.
But that was her problem and she would deal with it as she always did. On her own. All the same, she couldn’t help being the tiniest bit grateful to have her mother here. When he asked again and she told him no again, she wouldn’t be alone with him.
The thought had barely formed when Evelyn looked at the clock on the wall above the table and jumped up. “Good heavens, look at the time. I’m going to be late for the movie.”
“Wait, Mom—”
“I can’t. Mr. Spencer arrived just as Aunt Lil and I were on our way out the door. I sent her on ahead and told her to buy the tickets. You know how she hates to not be settled when the lights go down.”
“But, Mom, I—”
Evelyn kissed her cheek. “See you later, sweetie. Nice to meet you, Mr. Spencer.”
Before M.J. could say “boo,” she was facing him alone. And she didn’t particularly like it. He was too big, too good-looking, too dark and too persuasive. Too everything. And that made M.J. too nervous.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
“I’d like to finish our conversation from the other day.”
“As far as I’m concerned, it’s finished.”
“I’d like the opportunity to change your mind.”
“You’re wasting your time.”
“It’s my time.”
“You can’t change my mind,” she warned.
“I don’t believe that, Ms. Taylor.” M.J. had the uncomfortable feeling that the sheer force of his personality could make people do things against their will. But not in her case. After Brian died, she’d really tried to continue her work in speech therapy. But it simply hurt her heart too much to be around younger children. That made her hold back, avoid connecting. Protecting herself kept her from doing the job the way it should be done. She was no good to the kids now.
M.J. decided to change the subject. “How did you know where I live?”
“I didn’t follow you.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
He lifted one broad shoulder in a casual shrug. “This is the electronic age. With computer technology you can find anyone with very little information.”
That was true. In this age of technology, it was pretty hard to hide. Not that she was. But still…“This feels very much like an invasion of my privacy. But you don’t strike me as the sort of man who worries very much about breaking rules.”
“A father has to do what a father has to do,” he said, arrogant enough not to deny it.
In spite of his arrogance, she had a glimmer of respect for his parental determination, but then her own protective shields went back up. “And what is it you think you’re doing?”
“Whatever I have to do to help my son. He’s six years old.”
Her chest tightened, as if a hand had reached inside and squeezed her heart. The crushing pain made it a struggle to catch her breath. Her son would have been six now.
She sucked in air. “I already told you, I don’t work with children.”
“The other day you said teens are children, too.”
This was a bad time to learn she’d been right about him collecting information to store up and use against her.
“High school doesn’t count,” she said defensively. Then she watched his dark eyebrows go up questioningly. She huffed out a breath. “Okay, technically they’re children until eighteen. But high school kids are more like adults with impulse control issues.”
“Look, let’s stop splitting hairs. You need the work.”
“Doesn’t everyone?” she countered.
He stood and his eyes narrowed as he looked down at her. “Here’s what I know. You have a reputation as a gifted children’s speech pathologist. Sean’s teacher and his doctor tell me you’re a miracle worker and have a proven track record in getting results from children like my son. But you turned your back on a career—”
“You don’t have any idea—”
“I don’t have to.” He held up a hand. “I’m a father. I’d slay dragons and storm fortresses if it would return my son to the way he was before the accident. I can’t help him, but you can.”
“Not anymore.”
“I don’t buy that. You got positive results in the past. Why not now?”
“I don’t owe you an explanation.”
“No. That’s true. But the fact is I’m not giving up until I get one.”
M.J. recognized the determination on his dark features. How dare he back her into a corner? Why wouldn’t he just take no for an answer? Anger blazed through her. She was furious that he was putting her through this. She wanted him out of her house. And he might even leave. This time. But he’d be back. He had determination written all over him or he wouldn’t be here now. Somehow M.J. was aware that he wouldn’t leave her alone until he knew the reason she could no longer handle the job she’d once loved.
“An explanation?” She took a deep breath. “It’s called survival, Mr. Spencer. I simply can’t get wrapped up in a child. And that’s what it takes to reach them. It’s about dedication and focus. I can’t do it anymore.”
“Why?”
“I don’t have the heart. My son took it with him when he died.”
Chapter Two
G avin had no idea what he’d expected her to say, but that wasn’t it. Now he didn’t know what to
