he thought about these things, Jacob started the car and began driving. He didn’t pay much attention to where the road was taking him until he steered into the marina’s parking lot. He left the car for the valet to park, waved down the launch and climbed aboard. He pointed at the Queen Elise, then stood in the bow, ignoring the pleasant chatter of the young man who piloted the water taxi to the larger ships anchored offshore. All the while, Jacob kicked himself for looking up Alli again.
Before today, he’d been haunted by her in ways he couldn’t have explained to himself and wouldn’t have even tried to rationalize for Thomas, Frederik or his father. There had been women after Alli, but they hadn’t excited him as she had. Thoughts of her had unexpectedly come to him at the worst possible moments—interfering with his ability to enjoy intimacy or make important decisions that would affect his future.
By seeing her again, he’d hoped to put his head right. Get her out of his system, as he’d told Thomas. She’d be fifty pounds heavier and totally out of shape. She’d have married a brute of a trucker with a pierced nose...be saddled with two whiny brats who, sadly, resembled their beerguzzling dad.
But she wasn’t any of those things. She was as sweet and innocent and perfect as when they’d been together. And she turned him on something fierce whenever they touched, even more so when they’d kissed. He wasn’t over her, he thought dismally. Not by a long shot.
But far worse, he’d learned he had a son. And that was a problem he couldn’t walk away from.
Alli might swear to him that she’d never make the paternity of her child public knowledge, and she probably would keep that promise. But what if some snoopy reporter got hold of the information despite her vow of silence? What if someone close to Alli decided there was money to be made by selling her secret?
All of that aside, Jacob didn’t know if he could be low enough to turn his back on a child he’d created. Just the thought of having a son drew emotions from him he didn’t know he had. Pride...concern...responsibility...The others were far too confusing to even begin to analyze.
He slumped against a crate being ferried to one of the boats in the cove as the sleek launch zipped between expensive pleasure boats, heading for the one that dwarfed all the rest, the Queen Elise. He remembered he hadn’t taken Alli’s package with him, then shrugged. What did it matter now? Whether or not she accepted his gift or came to his party was the least of his worries.
Alli stood over Cray’s crib, looking tenderly down at her son as he napped. A wave of such intense emotion washed over her, its force nearly knocked her off of her feet. She loved the little boy, as any mother loved her child. But now she feared for him, as she feared for herself.
Jacob.
Why had he come back?
He had acted surprised when Cray started crying in his bedroom. Had that reaction been an honest one? Or had he known all along that she had given birth to his child?
An icy shiver curled through her. Of course, a man like Jacob had all sorts of ways of keeping track of people. What if he’d been informed of Cray’s existence many months ago? What if he was only now getting around to coming to Connecticut to claim his son?
The possibility terrified her.
But there was something wrong with that reasoning, she told herself. If having a son meant anything to him, why had he waited so long? Why hadn’t he shown up while she’d been pregnant? During those trying emotional months, she’d been at her weakest. She’d been so very afraid she wouldn’t know how to take care of a child, and wouldn’t be capable of supporting herself and Cray on her meager pay. If Jacob had known she was about to have his baby, why hadn’t he shown up then?
Maybe he was up to something far worse than she’d imagined. He wanted something from her, or he wouldn’t have come back. Until she knew exactly what that was, she wouldn’t be able to protect herself or her son from him.
After draping a light blanket over Cray and touching his fuzzy little head one last time, Allison slowly made her way out to the kitchen at the back of the house. She brewed herself a cup of hot tea and took it into the living room. There, on the floor, sat the large dark mauve box Jacob had brought earlier.
Allison sat on the couch, staring speculatively at the unmarked package while she sipped her tea. I don’t care what’s in there, she thought. It’s going back.
But how? she asked herself. She could pay someone to take the thing back to him on his stupid boat. But why should she go to the expense when money was already tight? What she should do was shove the unopened box in the trash. That would show him!
But the thrifty New Englander in Allison wouldn’t allow her to throw away a perfectly good...perfectly good what? What would she be throwing away?
She glared at the box, imagining something evil and threatening lurking inside the innocent-looking but interestingly colored cardboard. Pandora’s box—the classic tease. Why was he doing this to her? Had he intentionally left the thing to torment her, knowing she couldn’t stop herself from opening it?
Acting on impulse, Allison set her mug on the coffee table and stood up. She approached the box warily, from the side, as if afraid something alive might leap out of it at any moment, baring its fangs at her. Reaching down, she slipped her fingers inside one flap and tore the box open.
Three
Her hands trembling, Allison bent back the four cardboard flaps, then parted layer after layer of distinctive rose-and-gold tissue paper. She recognized the color and pattern of the wrapping materials. They had come from a posh Manhattan clothier. She and Diane had once dared each other to walk through the elegant etched-glass doors, and Diane had treated her to a silk scarf for her birthday that cost twice as much as anything in Allison’s closet.
Breathlessly, she reached beneath the crackling sheets of tissue and touched something soft, silky, fluid. She lifted the fabric. Suspended from her fingertips was a pale peacock blue dress of delicate tucks and flounces. It was the most beautiful garment she’d ever seen.
She was furious.
“You son of a—” She stopped herself, remembering Cray, who was within hearing range.
But this dress!
It was both a bribe and a slap in the face. Apparently, Jacob had intended for her to wear his gift to his party. He thought that by giving her something expensive he could persuade her to do whatever he wanted, just as he’d bribed, seduced and sweet-talked countless other women into bed. To him, it was a reflex. Like snapping his fingers to summon a waiter. Come here. Obey me!
But this was far, far worse, because in a way he was also saying he doubted she’d have anything decent to wear among polite company. Or—she wouldn’t have the sense to dress appropriately for one of his high-society soirees.
Opening her fingers, she let the delicate silk layers drift through them and back into the box. “I’ll show you, Your Royal High and Mightiness,” she hissed.
Jacob stood in the bow of the Queen Elise, a chilled martini in one hand, a cigar in his other, observing another load of guests as they stepped excitedly from the launch
