She looked at him shrewdly. “You finally got one, didn’t you?”
“Got one what?”
“A mistress. According to our neighbor downstairs, all Frenchmen have at least one. She warned me that it was only a matter of time before you adopted that custom, especially since my figure is no longer svelte and seductive.”
“You’re seductive as hell,” he snarled, laying his hands on the mound of her abdomen. He pushed up her top and kissed the taut skin. His lips worked their way up to her braless breasts. “You’ve adapted a few French customs yourself,” he murmured as he flicked his tongue over one dark nipple.
“All my bras are too small now.” She cupped her breasts and offered them to him. His mouth caressed her until their mingled sighs proved the neighbor downstairs wrong.
Later, as they lay with her back to his chest, his hand protectively resting on her belly, she asked sleepily, “When did you plan to pack me off to Mother?”
“Forget it,” he sighed, kissing her ear. “You’re not going anywhere.”
It wasn’t until he held his squirming, squalling newborn son in his arms that Dillon relaxed his vigilance over capricious fate. In his father’s eyes, Charles Dillon Burke was a miracle. From the first moment Dillon saw him, he was besotted with his child and fatherhood in general.
His luck at work continued to hold. The insurance building had been completed to everyone’s satisfaction. Forrest G. Pilot himself had come from Florida to inspect it personally. He had aged considerably, Dillon thought, and appeared to be under a strain, yet he commended Dillon on his fine work and demonstrated his appreciation in the form of a cash bonus.
“Take six weeks off with pay. That should give you plenty of time to make the move before reporting back to work.”
Before going on to Tallahassee, they planned to spend at least two weeks with the Newberrys in Atlanta and let them get well acquainted with their newest grandson. Dillon was confident that Forrest G. had big plans for him. He had more than fulfilled the older man’s expectations.
Resting his head on the hard seat cushion, Dillon closed his eyes contentedly. Over the roar of the jet engines he could hear Debra’s steady breathing and the sweet, guttural baby sounds that Charlie made in his sleep.
* * *
“What the hell is all this about?” Dillon roared. “Where’s Forrest G.? What are you doing behind that desk?”
Haskell Scanlan leaned back in the sumptuous leather desk chair and smugly regarded Dillon. “It’s my privilege to inform you that Mr. Pilot no longer works here.”
It took every ounce of Dillon’s self-control not to hurdle the desk, grab Scanlan by his scrawny neck, and wring the life out of him. This was a hell of a shock to receive on his first day back.
When he noticed the unfamiliar sign in the parking lot, he had hoped that it meant only a new name and logo for the original company. But as soon as he entered what had formerly been Forrest G.’s executive office, he was met with an unpleasant surprise. Pilot Engineering Industries was under new ownership and management—and at its helm was Haskell Scanlan.
Dillon glared down at his old enemy. “What happened to Forrest G.?”
Scanlan’s long fingers slid back and forth along the edge of his glossy desk. “Your mentor has retired.”
Dillon scoffed. “He wouldn’t vacate that chair without putting up a fight.”
“There was some nastiness,” Scanlan admitted with an insincere moue. “I’m surprised you didn’t read about it in the newspapers.”
“I’ve been busy getting my family settled. What happened?”
“With the assets that were available, the company you now work for decided it could do more than Mr. Pilot was doing.”
“In other words, it was a hostile takeover. A conglomerate came in and muscled out Forrest G.” Dillon’s eyes narrowed on Scanlan. “I wonder who supplied their inside information.”
Scanlan’s grin was as obnoxious as fingernails on a chalkboard. “I did what I could to assist the new ownership.”
“I’m sure you did,” Dillon sneered. “I’m sure you kissed ass until your lips were raw.”
Scanlan shot from his chair, his eyes batting furiously, his cheeks puffing out like those of an adder. Dillon leaned across the desk. “Go ahead, Scanlan, hit me. Please. Give me a good reason to beat the hell out of you.”
Scanlan took a step back. “If you value your job, you’d better watch the way you address me, Mr. Burke. We haven’t dismissed a single employee since we seized control, but it’s inevitable. I wouldn’t mind you being the first to go.”
Dillon was tempted to tell Scanlan to go fuck himself and then storm out. But where would that leave him? He wasn’t short of cash, thanks to the bonus Forrest G. had given him. However, he had incurred a lot of expenses during the move. There wouldn’t be that many jobs available in Tallahassee, and he couldn’t very well ask Debra and Charlie to move again after just getting settled.
They had decided not to buy a house until they were more familiar with the city. Instead, they had leased a house in a neat, respectable neighborhood. The yard was smaller than Dillon wanted and had only one tree. But Debra seemed pleased with it.