At The Millionaire's Request. Teresa SouthwickЧитать онлайн книгу.
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.
Chapter Four
M .J. put games, puzzles and flashcards in her backpack, then glanced around her room to see if there was anything else she might be able to use with Sean in today’s session. It was interesting that the techniques came right back to her as if she hadn’t been away for a year and a half. Somehow it seemed disloyal to her little boy’s memory, but her punishment was the pain of seeing Gavin’s little boy and being reminded that she would never see her own son again.
There was a soft knock on her door. “Come in,” she called.
Her mother opened it, then frowned. “You’re going out?”
“Yeah. Sean Spencer.”
She’d explained to her mother why Gavin had stopped by that day. The cover story was that his urgency and determination had eventually worn down her resistance and he’d convinced her to work with his child. Evelyn seemed pleased that she was finally putting the past behind her and moving forward.
“You look tired, M.J.”
That didn’t even begin to describe how she felt. She was beyond tired and had settled into a permanent state of exhaustion. The extra strain of burying emotion and bracing herself to see Sean’s achingly sweet young face took every ounce of energy she had left after teaching high school.
But admitting as much would mean explaining why she was working two jobs, and M.J. couldn’t go there. “I’m all right, Mom.”
“All right isn’t fine. Why are you doing this after an exhausting day teaching those ungrateful teenage dweebs?”
M.J. smiled at her slang-challenged mother. “As weird as it sounds, I like them. And let’s not forget, today’s dweebs are tomorrow’s grown-ups.”
“Then you could give up the other job.” Evelyn didn’t smile. “You don’t have to work with Sean. Gavin could find another therapist. Surely you don’t need the money.”
It was an old, tired conversation. After M.J.’s husband died, Evelyn had assumed he had life insurance. Nothing could be further from the truth. In fact, he’d left her with a mountain of debt she hadn’t known about.
Yes, Gavin could hire another therapist. But M.J. desperately needed the extra money to clean up the mess of the mortgages and other bills that her mother was better off not knowing about. Unfortunately that meant no whining, and M.J. really wanted to whine.
Instead she put on a happy face and bypassed the issue of money entirely. “Sean is a bright boy. Full of energy.”
“How’s he doing?” M.J. set her full backpack by the door then let out a sigh when she sat on the chair. The card Gavin had given her was still tucked into her desk blotter. She traced the bold, black letters of his name. His bold, handsome face flashed into her mind and she shivered.
She met her mother’s