Wild Stallion by Delores Fossen Page B

a faster heads-up if this happens again. I know we’re not accustomed to these security measures, but I want everyone to do a better job.”
    “Of course, sir. Do you need me there?” In other words, did Jackson want Perez to have Bailey removed?
    “I’ll take care of it,” Jackson insisted, and he pressed the button to end the transmission. He put his hands on his hips and stared at her, waiting.
    Bailey certainly didn’t look like a threat, standing there. She looked lost and scared. Hell. Jackson felt that need to console her again, but he resisted.
    What he couldn’t resist was noticing what she was wearing. The loose, casual red dress skimmed over her body and created an interesting contrast with her milky-white skin. It was a loaner dress no doubt, and probably belonged to someone on his staff, since Bailey hadn’t arrived with a change of clothes, or even any toiletries.
    “I’m sorry,” Bailey said. “I just thought maybe you had an update on the dead intruder.”
    He did, but he didn’t intend to discuss anything with her while Caden was in the room. Jackson hit the button on the intercom that would no doubt send the nanny hurrying to his office.
    Caden squealed, the sound of happiness amplifying through the room.
    Bailey gasped and put her hand to her heart. She hurried toward his desk, toward the sound, but Jackson blocked her from racing behind it. Still, she came up on her toes and looked over his shoulder.
    The sound she made would have melted a heart of stone. It was a painful mix of shock, joy and loss all rolled into one. Jackson looked deep into her eyes, to see if all that emotional mix would give him clues as to what she thinking. But she was only staring in awe at Caden.
    “He’s beautiful,” she muttered, her voice as filled with emotion as her eyes suddenly were.
    Did that mean she believed this was her son?
    Jackson didn’t ask her, and she didn’t have time to volunteer. Tracy Collier, the nanny, came into the room. She stopped just in the doorway, probably trying to figure out what the heck was going on, but Jackson gave her a nod. That nod sent Tracy behind his desk, where she scooped up Caden into her arms.
    “Tell Daddy bye-bye,” Tracy prompted, kissing Caden on the cheek.
    “D-d-d-d,” Caden echoed.
    It was Caden’s new sound, something he’d been saying for several days, but each time Jackson heard it, he was reminded of just how much he loved his little boy.
    “He’s already trying to say ‘daddy,’” Bailey mumbled. “That’s early. All the books I read said that normally happens at six months, or sometimes even later.” She kept her attention fastened to Caden until the nanny and he were out of sight. She likely would have followed them if Jackson hadn’t caught hold of her.
    “No,” was all Jackson could manage to say. He didn’t want his son part of what would no doubt be an emotional encounter unless he had no other choice.
    She blinked back tears and finally nodded. “He looks like me.”
    “He looks like a four-month-old baby,” Jackson countered. But he couldn’t dismiss that there might be a resemblance. With that added to the fact that someone had indeed stolen Bailey’s son, he knew he had to start accepting that a DNA match was a possibility.
    How much money would it take to make her go away?
    Just the thought of it sounded ruthless and made him sick to his stomach. Like the old Jackson. But he rationalized that if Bailey could indeed be paid off, then she wasn’t much of a mother anyway. So he would make the offer, and maybe, just maybe, it would be an offer she couldn’t turn down.
    He poured her a cup of coffee from the silver carafe on his desk and motioned for her to sit. She took the coffee, the cup rattling because of her shaky hands, but she didn’t sit.
    “When will Evan have the test results from the DNA swabs?” she asked.
    “Maybe as early as this afternoon.” For those results anyway.
    Jackson had arranged for others that