She’d argued with him, of course, that night at the hospital. Her temper had flared and shone like a beacon as she faced him down and told him just what she thought of a man who would put an infant through an unnecessary test. But Justice hadn’t been swayed.
The day he’d found out he couldn’t father children, the news had almost killed him. Not only had he lost his parents—his past—in that accident, he’d lost his future as well. He was no different than any other man. He’d dreamed of family, of passing on King Ranch to another generation who would love and care for it as he had. And to have those dreams shattered in an instant had been devastating.
Yet now that Jesse had planted all of those thoughts in his mind, he had to wonder: had the doctor been wrong? He had to know the truth. Had to know if Jonas was his. If he really did have a son. And nothing Maggie said had changed his mind.
They’d arranged for the paternity test the next morning, taking the baby to one of the King laboratories. Sometimes, he told himself, it paid to be a member of a huge, successful family. The Kings had their fingers in just about every pie worth having in California. No matter what one of them might need, there was generally a cousin who could provide it.
They’d put a rush on the paternity test, and even with that it would be another few days before they had the results. Justice had never been good at waiting, and this time it was even harder. There was so much riding on the outcome of this test. Not just his pride, he told himself, but the direction of his very future.
She poured some liquid into her hands, scrubbed her palms together, then began what she called “deep tissue mobilization.” In other words, a hard massage, he thought and sighed as her fingers and palms worked magic on his leg. His surgical scar was white and fresh-looking despite being completely healed. Her hands on his leg felt like a blessing. Her touch was sure, firm and, just as she said, professional. He wanted more. He wanted her hands on other parts of him, too. But he wasn’t going to get that, not when she was this furious.
“How does this feel?” she asked, working from the sole of his foot, up his calf to his thigh and back down again.
If she glanced at the erection pushing at the fly of his shorts, she’d know just how it felt, he thought and grimly tried to bring his body under control. “Good,” he said bluntly. “It’s all good.”
“You’re improving, Justice. I’m glad to see it.”
“Are you?”
“Of course I am. That’s why I’m here, remember? And the sooner you’re back on your own feet, the sooner I can take Jonas and leave.”
He reached out, grabbed one of her hands and held on. “You’re not going anywhere until those test results come back in, Maggie.”
She pulled her hand free of his grip. “I’m not going anywhere until my job is done,” she corrected. “When it is, you won’t be able to stop me from leaving.”
He ran one hand over his face. “Damn it, Maggie, don’t you see why I had to do this?”
“No. I don’t see.” She grabbed up a towel, dried her hands and continued, “You had my word, Justice. You could have believed me.”
“I don’t just want your word. I want proof.” He pushed up onto his elbows and stared at Maggie.
Her hair was in a thick ponytail at the back of her neck. She wasn’t wearing makeup, but then, she didn’t really need any. Her eyes were hot and filled with fury, and her delectable mouth kept working as if she were biting back hundreds of words she wanted to fling at him.
The day was warm and she wore jeans shorts and a sleeveless T-shirt for their exercise session. Her skin was smooth and pale, and Justice wanted nothing more than to grab her, pull her down on top of him and bury himself inside her. With that mental image firmly planted in his mind, he could almost feel her damp heat surrounding him. Feel her body moving on his. See her as she leaned over him, brushing his chest with her bare br**sts.
Damn it.
He swung his legs off the table in a hurry, hoping she hadn’t seen his erection, hard and all too eager for her. Around Maggie, he seemed to be little better than a teenager. Always hard. Always ready.
“Come on,” she said, stepping around the table to wrap one arm around his waist. “You need to sit in the hot tub awhile. Ease your muscles.”
He thought about refusing her offer to help him walk to the far end of the pool. Then he told himself he’d be a fool for not taking the opportunity to touch her. Her scent rose up to greet him, and the soft fall of her hair against his skin felt like silk. He draped one arm across her shoulders and, with her aid, walked barefoot across the cool, sky-blue tiles lining the edge of the pool.
“Here you go,” she said as they reached the partitioned-off area of the pool. There was a bench along the half circle of the hot tub, and Justice lowered himself onto it, hissing a little as the warm, bubbling water caressed his body.
“I turned the heat down a bit,” Maggie was saying. “I don’t want you parboiled, just warm and relaxed.”
He doubted he’d ever be fully relaxed when she was around, but he didn’t bother telling her that. Instead, he just looked up at her, standing on the tiles, watching him with her “professional mien” in place. Where was his Maggie? The one with fire in her eye. The one who turned him inside out with a single touch.
“Why don’t you join me?” he asked. She started to refuse but he kept talking. “You look like you need to relax as much as I do, Maggie.”
She bit her lip, blew out a breath and said, “I’m too mad at you, Justice. There wouldn’t be any relaxing. For either of us.”
“Fine, then,” he said, slapping the frothing water with the flat of his hand. “Sit down and yell at me. You always did feel better after a good rant.”
Her lips twitched and he knew he’d won.
“I don’t have a bathing suit.”
“I won’t tell if you don’t,” he coaxed, mouth dry, wanting—no, needing to see her strip down to nothing to join him in the warm, bubbling water.
She took a deep breath and blew it out again. “Okay. But just for a few minutes. Then I should go in and take care of Jonas.”
“He’s fine with Mrs. Carey.”
“I know that,” she countered, stepping out of her jean shorts to reveal pale pink silk panties, “but he’s my son and my responsibility.”
Justice just nodded. He didn’t trust himself to speak anyway. She lifted the hem of her shirt and tugged it up and over her head, giving him his first look at a wisp of a pale pink bra that exactly matched her panties. Maggie always had loved good lingerie. And he’d always considered himself a lucky bastard.