Michael arrived just as Isla was paying the delivery girl for the pizza. He had thought about Isla all day. He had given thought to the strong attraction they felt toward one another and he thought even more about how she had kept Ryan away from him. He wondered how she was going to react when he told her about his conversation with his lawyer. She would probably run to her father, Thomas. Thomas was one of the best attorneys in the city. Michael knew he would have a fight on his hands but he wanted his daughter under his roof. Isla would not get away with another day let alone three years of him not seeing his daughter.
Michael made himself comfortable as Isla set out the food. He was aware of how she moved around the kitchen, as if she knew what she was doing. He remembered she knew nothing about cooking before, and wanted nothing to do with the kitchen. Now, she seemed comfortable. He noticed she was wearing the same outfit from earlier except the shoes, and that sexy hot pink polish on her toes still caught his eye. He enjoyed the view as he continued up her legs. He felt his groin tighten. Her legs had always been his weakness even before she had became his wife, then his ex-wife, and now the mother of his child. Anger flashed across his face as he thought about his time missed with Ryan. Isla would pay for this.
Isla had noticed Michael watching her. It unnerved her as much as it intrigued her. She watched as Michael made his way around her home. He exuded the strength and confidence that had always attracted her to him. That one character trait had been her downfall every since she had first met him when she was fourteen. Her schoolgirl crush had been long forgotten, but a week after Paris' murder changed all of that.
The night of Paris' murder, Isla had been the lone witness. She had seen him leaving Paris' apartment wearing a blood-stained shirt. She knew he had not committed the murder. Michael was not the murdering type. He had always been calm, even when angry. Isla had always figured something in his past had taught him to keep tight control over his emotions. Even when Isla had seen him being escorted to court the day after his arrest, he had been calm. The image of Michael in those handcuffs had given her an idea. She knew Michael had seen her that night. She had wondered why he had not said anything about her being there just as he was. She had made the decision to visit Michael when he made bail from county jail later that day.
Isla looked at Michael now, so much water under the bridge. To think had it not been for her grandfather and his stipulations in his will, she would not be in this mess. She had to be thirty or married before she could access the funds. Isla now remembered how she had presented the plan to Michael.
A friend of hers was majoring in pre-law at Canisius College, and had informed her that the law states a husband and wife cannot be forced to incriminate one another. Isla, being the only witness to Michael leaving Paris' apartment with blood staining his shirt, offered Michael a much-needed life preserver. She told Michael about the stipulation in her grandfather's will, and the law her friend had spoken of. Michael refused at first. The he spoke with his attorney and things were not looking so good. For a brief moment, he wanted to ask Isla why she was in such a hurry to access her inheritance. Then he decided it was none of his business. There was probably a new designer handbag or something else frivolous, that only she would have thought important.
After thinking, the plan over it started to make since to Michael. Even his attorney told him it might now be a bad idea. It gave them more time to investigate. With all of the circumstantial evidence against Michael, Isla's testimony could have put him away. Isla had come up with a plan that would benefit them both. Michael would have his freedom and Isla would get her inheritance. Who cared if she would be broke within five years.
They were married a week later. It was supposed to have lasted a year. Michael's attorney said that they had to live together, so Isla moved into Michael's condo. They did not share a room in the beginning. One year Isla thought she could handle that until Michael began acting like a real husband. He cared for her. Soon they fell into a routine. They would eat dinner together most nights. They began anticipating seeing one another. Isla felt herself being too attached so she tried pulling back, but Michael would bridge each gap with a kind gesture or a gentle compliment.
Marriage had been the last thing on Michael's mind, but this was to be in name only. It turned out to be so much more. Isla was easy company. She would hum songs and make up her own words if she didn't know the exact lyrics. One thing he noticed is she wasn't a slob by any means. She was the total opposite. Isla was so neat that she would pick up his mess. One day when Michael had worked long hours at his office, he came home to a spotless condo. It touched him that she had hired a house cleaner to clean his place. It shocked him when Isla came from the laundry room carrying a basket of laundry. She had tossed out a sunny hello as if her doing the laundry was normal.
Isla knew Michael had been stunned to see her doing any kind of house keeping. Everyone who had known the DiAmico girls were stunned to know that their grandmother had raised them to be self-sufficient when it came to housework, but cooking was another story for Isla. She had no interest. Taryn wanted to open a restaurant, Isla smiled to herself at the thought.
"I hope that's a smile for me," Michael said with confidence. Again, there was that confidence that some would mistake for arrogance. Her grandmother had told her that a confident man was a man with a mission and a plan, and that he had every intention on seeing them through. That memory made her nervous. She hesitated before looking up at him. Once their eyes connected her mind began to race with thoughts of their kiss earlier that day. She could still taste him on her lips. The sweetest taste of something she could not have. Was it such a bad thing to wish for it? She had often fantasized about Michael coming back into her life, but now with Ryan in the picture she knew that would be out of the question. He was angry. One look at his face whenever he looked her way told the story. What real man would not be angry in this situation? She admitted that she brought this all on herself, so now they could only move forward and work together to parent their daughter. It was now time to concentrate on Ryan.
"Ry lets eat." Isla called out, breaking eye contact with Michael.
Isla's voice calling for their daughter brought Michael back to the present. He would have kissed her if they had stared at one another any longer. What was he thinking? He had to remember what his attorney, Pam had said to him earlier. She was a smart one that Pam. Pam had advised him of all of his legal rights. She had advised him in order to gain custody of his daughter he would have to prove Isla unfit, and from the looks of things right now that was going to be damned hard. "Need any help?" He figured he could at least try to be cordial until he found the information he was looking for.
"No thanks. This is the easy part. Wait until you see the mess she makes."
"Takes after her father in that respect, huh?"
Isla smiled. She remembered how messy Michael was until she moved in. She wondered if he was still a reformed slob or if he had reverted to his sloppy ways. Then she shook that thought out of her head. It was no longer her right to know. Her only concern in regards to Michael was his parenting skills. She had to remember that.
Ryan came barreling into the room and that snapped Isla into mother mode. Michael watched with envy at their closeness and angry thoughts entered his mind at random times throughout dinner. He hated not having been there for all of her firsts. He would always be angry with Isla for that. He wanted to know why she had deprived him of such wonders. He was so deep in his own angry thoughts that he did not realize that the two ladies at the table were both staring at him.
Michael noticed Isla stared at him impatiently; one perfectly arched brow slightly raised. She looked as if she was waiting for something. "What?"
"Ryan asked you a question."
Michael turned his attention to his daughter. "Yes, sweetheart."
"Do you like pizza?"
"Yes, I do." Michael smiled at his daughter. Everything about her was Isla. From her jet-black curly hair that hung almost down to her waist, and the thick lashes that framed her eyes. She did have that dimple in her right cheek like her father and she had his smile. Michael was in awe of this beautiful bundle of energy that was his daughter.
"Mommy, can we go to the zoo on the weekend?"
