Predicting Rain?

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Prologue

London

Jackson Ford knew how to negotiate business deals, take over multimillion dollar corporations and face down a board of directors who wanted his scalp. He could fix anything. He’d have facts and figures, bluff if he had to, or just walk out. But as he crouched in front of the tiny four-year-old girl with her silvery blond hair plaited in two braids, sitting in the oversize leather chair in his study, he didn’t have a clue what to do to make things work between them.

He knew nothing about children and hadn’t planned to learn. Now he had no choice. He tried to use his best I’m-being-reasonable voice when he spoke to Victoria and laid out the facts. “I have to go to Houston, Victoria. That’s in Texas. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone. A week, but probably two or three weeks.” Her huge blue eyes stared at him, never blinking, and she said nothing. She hadn’t spoken since arriving on his doorstep a week ago. “I have important business in Houston, and I have to be there as quickly as possible. I don’t have a choice.”

She wouldn’t understand the fact that he’d been the one at LynTech initiating an acquisition of a branch of an up-and-coming corporation, an acquisition that would make LynTech more viable and give it more strength. Or that the acquisition had been totally stopped when their bid became public and others started circling in a feeding frenzy. Playing hardball in business wasn’t pretty, but part of the game. This was beyond hardball. She wouldn’t understand that he felt morally bound to make it work, to salvage the deal. But she could understand that he had no choice in what he had to do. “I wouldn’t go if I didn’t have to. You understand that, don’t you?” he asked the mute child.

“Darling, of course she does.” He’d almost forgotten about Eve and from the sound of her throaty voice, she was inches from him, looking over his shoulder at Victoria. “She’ll be fine. You’ve got everything in place, and besides, her father traveled all the time. This isn’t new to her.”

He frowned at her mention of Ian and almost flinched when he felt her press against his back. Eve. Lavender eyes, ebony hair feathered around her elegant face, willowy beauty, and very well versed in heavy-hitting corporate business coming from the Ryders, a family that had been front and center in international business for generations. A real “catch” as his mother had told him so often. Someone who understands what his life is all about. That was true and had been an important part of his decision to marry her. But he didn’t like the way she was dealing with the child right now.

“This is all new to her,” he murmured and stood. “And new to me, too.”

He had a flash of his image in the windows behind where Victoria sat. A tall man, two inches over six feet, not handsome in any traditional sense, with dark-brown hair brushed back from a face that was a bit too strong and a bit too irregular. Eve stood behind him. They’d been set up by mutual friends, and the timing had been right for both of them. Eve was just through a bad relationship, and he’d been considering solidifying his personal life for a while. A month ago, they’d gotten engaged, and a week ago, he’d received the phone call about Ian and Jean.

He looked down at the child who hadn’t moved or taken her eyes off of him. “Victoria, I have to go. Do you understand?”

She sat very still, her tiny hands clutching an old rag doll in the lap of the pink pinafore Eve had bought for her. She gave no indication that she cared what he was saying. If she’d only talk, and say, “Yes, I understand, Uncle Jack,” but that wasn’t going to happen.

When he’d agreed to be the child’s godfather, when he’d agreed to take care of her if Ian and Jean couldn’t, none of them had ever dreamed he’d ever have to make good on his promise. That he’d be dealing with a four-year-old who lost both her mother and father in one fell swoop, who suddenly found herself in the care of a thirty-seven-year old man who worked twenty hours a day, and who’d thought that marriage wouldn’t be a major change in his life. But this child was a major change.

“Victoria, I—” His words were cut short as she suddenly scooted off of the chair, and hurried past both him and Eve. He turned and saw her cross to the nanny in the doorway.

Mrs. Ferris, a slender, gray-haired woman in a deep-lavender dress and sensible oxfords, watched as the child stopped in front of her. The nanny patted the child on the head as she looked past her at Jack.

“Sir,” she said in her soft Scottish brogue. “It is bedtime for the wee one. Can she come with me now?”

He hated that degree of relief he felt that Victoria was leaving the room. “Of course. Good night, Victoria.”

The child didn’t acknowledge what he’d said, just went with the woman without a backward glance. “What a mess,” Jack muttered, closing his eyes as he ran a hand over his face.

Eve was there, her hands covering his, their fingers entwining as she drew his hands down between them. He met her sultry gaze, more than a little aware of the way her all white, short dress showed off her cleavage and her tanned legs that seemed to go on forever. “Darling, don’t worry so,” she said softly. “Everything’s under control.” She came closer, pressing her hips against his. “Everything.”

He felt her against him, and wondered why he didn’t feel anything except frustration over the lack of control he seemed to be having in his life. “I wish that were true,” he said.

She frowned. “I know it’s sad that Ian and Jean are gone, and that Victoria is an orphan.”

“He was my best friend. We knew each other since college.” They’d been as close as brothers back then, two men from totally different backgrounds, but who had formed a friendship that had lasted over the years. Six months ago, Ian and Jean had come to London. Now they were gone. “I never dreamed this would happen.”

“I know, I know,” Eve said softly. “It’s hard.” She frowned slightly. “And the wedding plans are piling up, decisions to be made and you’re off to the States for God knows how long.” Her frown deepened. “Then to suddenly have a child dumped on you.” She shrugged with a degree of distaste. “It’s really quite an inconvenience.”

Her choice of words startled him. Dumped? An inconvenience? He’d been raised by nannies, but he’d had his parents there in the background, no matter what kind of parents they’d been. “I don’t think that Ian and Jean’s dying can be called a simple inconvenience,” he said tightly.

“Oh, love, of course not. I was just…” She shrugged again. “It’s a terrible tragedy, but life goes on. And look what the child has now. You agreed to take over her care, and you’re as rich as…” She shrugged. “Well, you’re well fixed, and you’ll take care of her. She has a superb nanny. Kyle and Betsy loved the woman taking care of the twins.” She smiled, and the expression seemed jarring to Jack. “And she’s going to have beautiful clothes. It’s like dressing a little doll.”

Eve had been good about this, but maybe not exactly realistic. “Everything a girl needs,” he muttered with more than a touch of sarcasm.

“Exactly.” She didn’t catch his mood at all. “And don’t worry about the child. Children are resilient and she’ll adjust. Now, we just have to get you back from the States and get on with things. Go to Houston, and work your magic, then come back and we can go on vacation before the real planning for the wedding gets underway.” She smiled a bit more deeply as she seemed to warm up to that idea. “Somewhere warm and sunny.”

“Sure,” he said, and couldn’t even think about a vacation at the moment. He moved away from Eve, breaking the contact to cross to the massive desk in the wood and leather study, and reach for his briefcase. “Right now I need to get out of here. I don’t want to get tied up at the airport.” He sorted through the papers he had to read on the flight to Houston, dropped them into the case and snapped it shut. “I’ll call you from Houston when I get in.”

“Okay, you go and fix things, then get back here.”

“That’s the plan,” he murmured as he turned to her.

She gave him a soft, lingering kiss, then drew back. “Just remember…vacation.” She turned and headed for the door. “Now, I’m off to see Lady Branson to find out who designed her daughter’s absolutely delicious bridesmaids’ outfits last year.” She stopped at the door and smiled at him. “Remember, vacation.” And she left.

He heard the entry door click shut behind Eve. Even through the thick walls of the century-old row house, he heard Eve’s sports car’s motor rev to life, then drive off in a squeal of tires. The next moment, Mrs. Ferris appeared in the doorway. Her expression was somber, but then again, that seemed to be her normal appearance. “The driver is at the side door with your car, sir, and the wee one is in bed, one light on, eyes closed. She did not have her milk, just refused it, and wore the pink nightie Miss Ryder bought for her. I hope that is acceptable.”

He turned and said, “Yes, it is.”

“She has that doll with her, too. I think it might be close to a health hazard. Both the doll and its clothes need cleaning.”

That was the least of his worries. “Buy her a new doll.”

“That is not it, sir,” she said, with more than a touch of reproach in her voice. “She would not want a new doll, but that doll is dirty, and I just wanted to mention it so you know that I’m aware of the dangers.”

He was quite certain Mrs. Ferris was aware of everything, and he didn’t want, or need, a blow-by-blow description of what she knew or didn’t know. “Do whatever you think is best,” he said, his tone a bit more clipped than he’d intended.

“As you wish, sir,” she murmured.

“You have all my phone numbers, my contacts at LynTech, and my e-mail address,” he said as he gripped the briefcase. “If anything comes up, Miss Ryder can assist you. The bottom line is, just give the child whatever she needs.”

“That’s another thing, sir.” She crossed her arms on her chest. “I was always believing that spoiling a child, no matter what the reasons, was wrong. Children need rules and schedules. Trust me, that gives a child a sense of security.”

She was probably right. What did he know about kids? He and Eve hadn’t even talked about children, and the only real contact he’d had with children before this, had been when he was a child himself. “Of course,” he murmured.

“It is just my opinion, sir.”