Mitch’s eyes zeroed in on the curve of her butt, and he almost said to hell with dinner. He didn’t like being attracted to his unwanted houseguest. But eating alone wouldn’t get him anywhere. After the way she’d kissed him two nights ago, he needed to get her out of the picture. Fast. Or he’d end up no better than his father. Hooked by a Corbin.
Biting back his objections, he pried his gaze from her rear end, rounded the hood and climbed into the front passenger seat. It had been seven days since she’d moved in. He’d expected to see some sign of discontent by now. When would the craving for her single lifestyle kick in? When would she start feeling tied down by her sister’s kid?
Waiting for Carly to grow tired of caring for the boy was moving too slowly. He needed faster results.
She settled in the driver’s seat, buckled up and turned the key. Mitch checked her ring finger and noted a faint pale indentation he hadn’t noticed before. He waited until she’d cleared the guardhouse before asking, “What happened to your engagement?”
Carly braked a little too hard at the stoplight, jolting him forward. He braced a hand on the dash. “It ended. Where are we going?”
“Head toward the bay side of South Beach. Why did your engagement end?”
She shot him a guarded glance. “Sam wasn’t ready for a family.”
And she came with one. Unless she dumped the kid. “That’s a circumstance easily remedied, Carly.”
Her fingers strangled the steering wheel and her glare made it clear she’d rather wrap them around his neck. The light turned green and she punched the gas. “Oh for pity’s sake. Would you get off that horse? I’m not giving up Rhett.”
“You must have loved Sam. You were engaged for two years.”
Her throat worked as she swallowed. She kept her eyes straight ahead. “I’m not going to ask how you know that. But, yes, I did. I stopped the day he asked me to walk away from Rhett.”
Mitch bit back a curse as another avenue closed. But when faced with a roadblock, he’d learned to search for an alternate route.
If Carly was as squeaky-clean as the P.I. reported, then he’d have to find another way to get custody of the boy. But how could he win her over? How could he gain her trust?
Seduction? The idea shot across his mind like a comet.
He weighed the possibility, and his pulse quickened and his palms tingled the way they did whenever he had a winning plan.
Could he deliberately seduce Carly and win her trust, then stab her in the back by taking the kid?
Guilt punched him a time or two, but he ignored it. It would be nothing more than doing to Carly what her sister had done to his father. Marlene had set up his father, then taken something from him.
Mitch had to carry out his father’s last wishes or lose his and his siblings’ inheritance. If that meant he had to blur the lines of decency, then so be it. The boy would be well cared for, and no one would be hurt in the long run.
The kiss had proved he and Carly were physically compatible. He studied the curve of her breasts, her narrow waist and the length of her toned legs, and arousal buzzed through his veins.
Sharing her bed wouldn’t be a hardship. But how far would he have to go?
As far as it takes.
He’d even marry her if he had to and adopt the child. When the marriage ended, he’d have custody of the kid and Carly would have a healthy bank account.
A win-win situation.
* * *
“He looks just like you, Mitch, except he has Carly’s eyes.”
Carly opened her mouth to correct the woman Mitch had introduced as a member of his yacht club, but Mitch cut her off.
“Rhett definitely has his mother’s eyes.”
“Don’t tell me Miami’s most eligible bachelor is finally going to settle down?” the anorexic, overly tanned, forty-something blonde asked.
Mitch gave her an enigmatic smile and a slight shrug.
Carly wanted to kick him under the table. What was he trying to pull?
To Carly she said, “Kudos, my dear. You have accomplished a miracle.”
Carly stiffened at the implication that she’d landed Mitch. Or that she’d even want to. “I—”
“Thanks for stopping by, Sandra,” Mitch interrupted. “Tell William I said hello.”
“I will. And again, I am sorry about Everett. It’s great seeing you, Mitch, and meeting you and your adorable little one, Carly. Ta ta.” The skinny body slinked away.
Ta ta? Who said ta ta these days? But Carly had bigger fish to fry. “What on earth were you thinking? You let her believe Rhett was yours. And mine.”
The idea of having Mitch’s baby made her stomach churn.
Mitch glanced at Rhett, who had almost finished smearing and eating his dinner. “You said the kid had a short attention span. Do you really want to waste time explaining this convoluted mess my father and your sister left behind when we could be finishing our meal before he has the meltdown you predicted?”
“No. But—”
“Forget it, Carly. Sandra isn’t worth the worry.”
“But you lied.”
“Replay every word I said. I never lied. She assumed. I didn’t correct her, nor did I confirm her speculations. Give it a rest. The media frenzy my father’s death created is just beginning to die down. I’d rather not jump-start it with the kind of scandal his illegitimate child will create. That’ll happen soon enough.”
Media frenzy. She suppressed a shudder.
She hated that Mitch was right almost as much as she hated that he’d chosen the perfect restaurant and been completely charming and polite throughout the meal. He’d even smiled at Rhett a couple of times.
But he’d been nothing but distrustful and acerbic before tonight, and that made her wary. “Why the chameleon act?”
A dark eyebrow lifted. “I beg your pardon?”
“Why are you being nice?”
“You’ve stated your case. You’re not going to give up the bo—Rhett. That means we will be sharing a roof for the next fifty-plus weeks. No reason why we can’t do so amicably.”
“I stated my case the day we met. Nothing’s changed.”
“I thought you’d change your mind. Now I realize you won’t. We’ll make the best of our alliance.” He wiped his mouth and laid his napkin beside his plate. “Would you care for dessert?”
She blinked at the sudden switch in topic. An inkling of suspicion wiggled like an earthworm inside her. Leopards didn’t change their spots. Or so the cliché said. And clichés were clichés for a reason. They were usually true.
Mitch had to be up to something. The question was what?
But even more worrisome, Carly had actually enjoyed Mitch’s company tonight. She’d better watch herself, because he was still the same rat bastard who’d hurt her sister and had recently threatened Carly’s custody of Rhett.
Letting her guard down around Mitch Kincaid wouldn’t be a smart move.
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