association and genetics Jason felt slimy. He might think about it, but acting on impulse wasn’t going to happen. He’d safeguarded his son’s care and used Maggie to do it. No way would he compromise her further.
“Almost a nun.” Hunter put his empty glass on the desk and stood. “I can understand the novelty. She’s not your usual type.”
“Yeah.” And that worked both ways. He wasn’t her type, either, not nearly good enough.
“Do yourself a favor, Jason.” His father pointed a warning finger at him. “Don’t make the mistake of falling in love.”
Preaching to the choir, Jason thought. “Not a problem, Dad.”
A sound in the doorway drew his attention and he saw Maggie standing there with the baby in her arms.
“You must be Maggie.” Hunter studied her, then nodded his approval. “I’m Hunter Garrett.”
“Jason’s father.” Then she looked at the baby who started to fuss. “And Brady’s grandfather.”
“Yes.” He looked at Jason with a gleam in his eyes. “It’s time for me to go. I’ll leave you two alone.”
He left with the same abruptness as his arrival. No congratulations or welcome to the family. No apology for dropping by on their wedding night, Jason thought darkly.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Maggie said, staring at the closed front door. “Apparently he didn’t come to see his grandson.”
“That’s Dad.” A walking, talking cautionary role model. And his only family besides Brady.
“I brought the baby to spend time with you before he goes to bed.”
“Thanks.”
She settled the boy in his arms. “If he needs me, I’ll be in my room.”
It didn’t escape his notice that she’d said if the baby needed anything. That specifically excluded Jason, which started a burning deep inside him. Why did the need for something crank up exponentially when you knew it was off-limits? He wanted her. As of this morning he had the right to have her in his bed. As his father had so indelicately put it—he could fool around with her and not worry about impropriety.
But he didn’t dare touch her.
As she backed away, he noticed the same bruised look he’d seen a few minutes ago and knew she’d heard the last part of his conversation. The part where he acknowledged that he locked her into a legal relationship, confirmed that she wasn’t his type and was adamant that he’d never have feelings for her. But why should it bother her? She was getting what she wanted out of the deal.
But he couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d caged a butterfly. He’d never felt more like his father’s son than he did now and he didn’t like it one bit.
When Jason’s driver dropped Maggie off in front of the home she saw Sister Margaret out front, pulling her black sweater tight against the wind. There was a truckload of—well, trucks—scattered on the property and along the street nearby. Pallets of roofing tiles and lumber waited on the cement driveway.
Maggie’s footsteps crunched on the ground and the tall nun turned. Instantly a welcoming smile creased her worn face.
“Hi, Sister,” she said with a wave.
“Maggie!” The nun opened her arms and gave her a big hug. “How are you?”
“Fine.”
The fib was automatic, more like being economical with the truth. Mostly she was fine. Her body was functioning well, maybe a bit too well, especially when thoughts of Jason Garrett crept in and made her skin flush and her heart race. It had been more than a week since he’d kissed her at their wedding and the memory of his mouth on hers made her want more of the same. The feel of his chest pressed against her breasts made her hot and tingly all over, so her body was firing on all cylinders.
But her spirit? Not so fine. After hearing Jason tell his father that loving her was not part of his plan, her spirit had pretty much imploded. Although that information was not something she’d burden Sister Margaret with.
“How are you, Sister?”
“Excellent.” She turned back to watch the workmen tearing off the rundown roof. “We’re getting this old building in shape and the state granted us an extension for the work. The children have a home and all’s right with the world.”
“I’m glad.”
Sister looked down at her. “Without the generous donation from your Mr. Garrett none of this would be possible.”
Maggie opened her mouth to say he wasn’t hers, but decided more truthful economy was indicated. As far as the state of Nevada was concerned, he was hers. Legally her husband. At his luxurious penthouse, she would never be his wife, only the nanny. As guilty as it made her feel to withhold facts, Sister Margaret did not need to know she’d married Jason for his donation. And he’d married her to ensure her loyalty to his child.
She didn’t want to see the disappointment in Sister’s eyes when she confessed to marrying the man for his money, no matter how well intentioned she’d been.
“And there’s more,” Sister continued.
Maggie wasn’t sure her guilty conscience could handle more. She pulled her Windbreaker around her as a gust of cold blasted her. With clouds covering the sun, it was very chilly. Or maybe that was just the freeze in her heart.
“What else did Jason do?” she asked.
“He took care of getting bids on the renovations. I spoke with him myself and—”
“You talked to Jason?” Oh, good Lord. Did he say anything about their arrangement?
Sister nodded. “He’s quite a charming man. Very nice phone voice.”
He was even nicer to look at, Maggie thought, but kept the information to herself. And she knew all about that whiskey-and-chocolate voice. Somehow he’d used it to talk her into this arrangement. But if she was being honest, it had taken precious little effort on his part to convince her this arrangement would work.
“Jason is many things positive,” she agreed.
“After helping us out with the donation I didn’t want to take up his time with those details, but he insisted. He assured me that in his business dealings through Garrett Industries he has many contacts and finding the right company to do the work for us would be easier for him.”
“He’s built some pretty spectacular resorts here in Las Vegas.”
“Does he talk about that?”
“We mostly talk about the baby.” His baby, Maggie silently added. But every day Brady felt more like hers and she let herself go there. Because of the marriage, she wasn’t going to lose him. “I’ve read about his work in the Review Journal. I read aloud to the baby.” She shrugged. “It’s never too
