a Hawthorne? Her father’s a miserable old goat. She’s got nothing to do with him.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Damn it, Simon,” Mick continued. “She split with him years ago. Doesn’t even use her real name for God’s sake.”
“She’s still his daughter,” Simon insisted. “Don’t you get it? The daughter of the man who tried to destroy my family is now in charge of when I get custody of my own son. How the hell am I supposed to take that, Mick? What if she just decides to never approve my custody of Nathan?”
“You really think she’d do that?”
“She’s a Hawthorne.” As far as he was concerned, that explained everything. God, he was an idiot. He had actually begun to trust Tula. He’d felt for her. More than he had anyone else in his life. Now he finds out this? For all he knew, Jacob had manufactured Nathan’s mother’s will. Maybe he and his daughter were in this together. Conspiring to dangle his son in front of him only to snatch him back.
He sprang to his feet as if the thought of sitting still another moment was going to kill him. Turning his back on his friend, he stared out the wide window at the view of San Francisco that Tula had admired so the first day he met her.
But instead of the high-rises and the glittering bay beyond the city, he saw her.
Her eyes. Her smile. That damn dimple in her cheek. He heard her sigh, felt the ripples of satisfaction rolling through her body as they took each other.
It had been one night since he had been with her and he wanted her again so badly, it was gnawing at him. Had she planned that, too? Had she deliberately set out to seduce him just so she could crush him later and sit with her father to enjoy the show?
His guts tightened and a cold, hard edge wrapped itself around his heart. The nebulous plan still forming in his mind was looking better and better by the moment.
“If you screw this up, you could be risking your son,” Mick reminded him unnecessarily.
“No,” Simon said, glancing back over his shoulder at his friend. “Don’t you get it? A Hawthorne is in charge of whether or not I’m fit to care for my son. How could I possibly make that any worse?”
“Let me count the ways,” Mick muttered darkly.
“You’ll see,” Simon told him, warming to his plan even as it took final shape in his mind. “I’m going to seduce Tula—” again, he added silently “—until she can’t think straight. By the time I’m finished, she’ll support me getting custody of Nathan. And when I’m sure of that, I’ll go to her father and tell him that I’ve been sleeping with his daughter. If that doesn’t give the old man a stroke, nothing will.”
“What’ll it do to her?” Mick asked quietly.
For one brief second, Simon considered that. Considered how it would be when she found out that she’d been used by him. But he let that thought go as soon as he remembered that she was a Hawthorne and that her family was more than accustomed to using and being used.
“Doesn’t matter,” he ground out.
“Whatever you say.” Mick stood up and shook his head. “I’m heading home now, but before I go, one more piece of advice.”
“I’m not going to like it, am I?”
Mick shrugged. “Whoever likes unsolicited advice?”
“Good point. Okay, let’s have it.”
“Don’t do it.”
“Do what?”
“Whatever it is you’re planning, Simon.” Mick locked his gaze with his friend’s and said in all seriousness, “Just let this go.”
Simon shook his head. “Hawthorne cheated me.”
“His daughter didn’t.”
“She lied to me. About who she was. Maybe about why she’s in my damn house.”
“You don’t know that. You could just ask her.”
Sending a warning glare at his friend, Simon said, “You don’t understand.”
“You’re right,” Mick told him, turning for the door. “I don’t. For the last week or so, you’ve been almost…happy. I’d hate to see you screw that up for yourself, Simon.”
He didn’t say anything as Mick left. Hell, what was there to say? There was an opportunity here. A chance to get back at Jacob Hawthorne while at the same time indulging himself in a woman he wanted more than he was comfortable admitting.
An image of Tula filled his mind and his body went hard and heavy almost instantly. Remembering how responsive she was in bed had him wanting her so desperately, he’d have done anything to have her that minute. Even that damned fight they’d had hadn’t cooled him off any. Instead, it had stoked the fires already inside him. He’d never enjoyed a fight more.
Didn’t mean anything though, he told himself. Yes, he’d admitted to liking her. But that was before he knew who she really was. Now he didn’t know if he could believe the person she’d shown herself to be. Maybe it was all an act. Maybe everything she had done since arriving at his house had all been part of an elaborate show.
If it was, he would have the last laugh. If it wasn’t…he shook his head. He wouldn’t consider that. Tula Hawthorne was a grown woman. She could make her own decisions. And if she decided to join him in his bed—and she would, again—that would be her choice.
She’d be fine.
He’d have his revenge.
And his son.
“He was a complete jerk,” Tula said into her cell phone, then caught the baby watching her warily. She didn’t care what some people thought about children and their awareness to the world around them. She knew that Nathan was sensitive to tone and her moods, so she instantly forced a smile, despite the sheen of ice that felt as though it was coating her insides.
“Honey,” Anna’s sympathetic voice came over the phone. “You’re the one who always reminded me that most men are jerks at one point or another.”
“Yes, but at that point?” Tula said in a hiss, still smiling for Nathan’s sake. “Seriously, Anna the glow hadn’t even begun to fade and he turned on me like a rabid dog.”
“Well, I hope you gave it right back to him.”
“I did,” she said, remembering their fight last night. It had completely colored everything that went before it and that was saying something.
Sex with Simon had been even more amazing than she had imagined it could be. But to have it all ruined because Simon had donned his metaphorical suit right after was just infuriating.
“Nothing I said got through to him though, so it hardly matters that I fought back,” she mused, plucking a windblown brown leaf from the blanket and tossing it into the air. “He was so cold. So…”
“Believe me I know,” Anna assured her. “Remember how awful Sam was in the beginning?”
“That’s different.”
“Really, how?”
Tula laughed halfheartedly. “Because this is about me.”
“Ah, well sure. Now I see.”
Another laugh shot from Tula’s throat helplessly. “Fine, fine. You suffered, all women suffer. But my suffering is happening now.”
“Okay, there you’ve got me.”
“Thanks. So. Advice?”
“Plenty, but advice isn’t what you need, Tula. You already know how to handle this.”
“Really, how’s that?”
“Get