Captivated By The Enigmatic Tycoon

Captivated By The Enigmatic Tycoon Bella Bucannon He’ll prove he’s worth her love!Cassie Clarkson must ensure she doesn’t get on Jack Randell’s bad side – seeing as he's the handsome great-nephew of her new client. There’s one issue though, being on his good side is so much more dangerous – to her heart! Cassie needs this job but she also can’t deny her feelings. A proposal of convenience! Jacques Brookes wants the world to see the real him—the man behind the headlines. When he catches the eye of beautiful Lily Newman, he knows she could be just the woman to help him... Jacques screams trouble—Lily’s already had her heart broken by her cheating ex-fianc?. But by pretending to be Jacques’s girlfriend she may be the only person who can help him on his journey to redemption. And he could be just what Lily needs to believe in love again! ‘Cassie?’ With a gentle hold Jack turned her to face him—and found himself even closer. Near enough to feel the warmth of her body, to see the gold rim sparkle in her eyes, and smell the essence that was pure Cassie. His lips were a breath away from hers. ‘Conversation won’t answer the questions keeping me awake at night.’ He slid his hand around her neck. ‘Like how will it feel to have you crushed against me?’ He tilted her chin up with his thumb. ‘And are your lips as delectable and sweet as I imagine?’ He lowered his head and covered his mouth with hers in a tender exploratory kiss. Her body stilled, then melted into his, causing an instant physical reaction. His heart blipped, and then soared when she didn’t pull away. His fingers caressed and firmed as his free arm encircled her waist, binding her to him. His chest expanded and fire flared in his stomach, rapidly spreading to every extremity. Cassie’s arms snaked up and around his neck, her fingers tangled into his hair and he trembled. There was no awareness of time. It was an instant or a lifetime until necessity for air forced his lips from hers barely long enough to gasp and let a possessive male growl escape before settling again. He heard her contented sigh mingle with his low rumble. Yet suddenly Cassie wrenched free, slamming onto the workbench and sending him stumbling away, almost falling over the dog. He took a step forward, hands held out in appeal. ‘Cassie, what’s wrong? Tell me what I did.’ ‘It’s wrong. We can’t…we mustn’t.’ Her hesitant words were muttered against her palms as she dropped her head. Captivated by the Enigmatic Tycoon Bella Bucannon www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk) BELLA BUCANNON lives in a quiet northern suburb of Adelaide with her soulmate husband, who loves and supports her in any endeavour. She enjoys walking, dining out and travelling. Bus tours or cruising with days at sea to relax, plot and write are top of her list. Apart from category romance she also writes very short stories and poems for a local writing group. Bella believes joining RWA and SARA early in her writing journey was a major factor in her achievements. To my own special hero, who understands my struggle with routine and being organised. To Flo and Victoria for their support, advice and guidance. And to everyone who knows I am a hoarder and couldn’t believe I understand decluttering. Contents Cover (#u20faf03d-fe0c-5858-962a-08fbecc9e531) Back Cover Text (#u7dbb1fb0-87b5-5426-b5ef-6431baf03990) Introduction (#u398a486f-65f7-597b-83be-046af01b36a5) Title Page (#ud64a6c60-7ea5-596f-9f06-ee16dae7afa5) About the Author (#ub57b973f-f556-56d1-8715-ce5037391f1c) Dedication (#u29243b14-fa77-50d9-8727-b91186274967) CHAPTER ONE (#u8ad3c97a-2d40-520b-a9dc-22906ff445fe) CHAPTER TWO (#ub6ea485c-390d-56de-a654-debf9f224491) CHAPTER THREE (#ue595bdaa-cc3f-590c-8ec0-75aa050397bb) CHAPTER FOUR (#u769c33f8-370d-5fdc-97f7-0c8306e4d59e) CHAPTER FIVE (#ub0acc22f-5114-5e8b-b938-ab5c2ee3ca82) CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo) CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo) CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo) CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo) CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo) CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo) CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo) CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo) CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo) CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo) CHAPTER SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo) CHAPTER SEVENTEEN (#litres_trial_promo) CHAPTER EIGHTEEN (#litres_trial_promo) Extract (#litres_trial_promo) Copyright (#litres_trial_promo) CHAPTER ONE (#u28f1b8ac-2adc-597f-8c5e-389ab8ee8466) JACK RANDELL GRINNED at the sound of Strauss, his Aunt Mel’s favourite composer, as he reached the back door. Hopefully this meant her feisty spirit was resurfacing as she’d rarely listened to any music she could dance to since the accident three months ago. Although she was technically his great-aunt, he could never envision her as being that extra generation older. She and Bob had given him unconditional support during his teenage years when understanding between him and his parents had seemed irretrievable. This house had become his sanctuary, still was even at the age of twenty-eight. His spirits lifted in anticipation that she’d also begun baking again, and that the kitchen would be filled with mouth-watering aromas. He automatically inhaled as he stepped across the threshold. No tempting smells and no sound of human activity. He wasn’t surprised at the lack of heating; Mel rarely turned it on until the sun began to set. While he’d been visiting his parents in Brisbane, he’d thought July’s bitterly cold days in Adelaide might have changed her mind. Another reason to believe she was active again and didn’t need it. After glancing into the kitchen, disappointingly neat and clean, he was about to call out when he heard a scraping sound from the family room on his right. He walked in and stopped, breath caught in his throat and heart skipping intermittent beats. An enticingly filled-out pair of denim jeans occupied the space in front of the heavy coffee table now placed in the far corner. Definitely not Mel, who declared denim was for the young. His tightened as the pleasing form leaned in further, angling past the bookcase that had been pushed almost to the table, partly blocking the window. He heard a triumphant huff, followed by a pained, ‘Ow.’ The taut bottom jiggled, and he became decidedly uncomfortable. Mesmerised and immobilised, he watched as the wriggling continued towards him. A long-sleeved navy woollen jumper appeared, followed by a cap of cropped black hair. The woman snaked onto her haunches, holding up a small object. Her light harmonious laugh rippled through him as she rubbed a spot on the top of her head. ‘Got you. I’ll sew you back on later.’ ‘Cassie, coffee time. I’ll... Jack, I didn’t expect this early surprise!’ Fixated on the figure in front of him, Jack didn’t react to his aunt’s voice. He was spellbound as the head spun, dark hair flew and a hand hit the floor to prevent toppling over. Scrambling to her feet, she twisted towards him and he found himself fighting for air again. Walnut-coloured eyes framed by long black lashes widened as a delightful pink hue tinted her cheeks. Natural red, not quite symmetrical lips parted as she sucked in a deep breath and glared at him as if he’d been the cause of her injury. Holding her gaze, he suddenly jerked back as Mel’s face loomed into his vision, eyebrows raised, perceptive smile in place. A great improvement since he’d said goodbye sixteen days ago. ‘Remember me?’ He wrapped her in a bear hug and kissed her cheek, thankful she’d regained her normal happy disposition. ‘Great timing as always. Coffee in the lounge, and you can tell me how your parents are. Oh, by the way, this is Cassie Clarkson. Cassie, my great-nephew, Jack Randell.’ She walked out with a slight hint of a limp, paying no heed to his dropped jaw. Who the hell was Cassie Clarkson, and what was she doing here when Mel had family who’d willingly come any time she needed help? Had she provided references for whatever she did, and had they been checked? Hadn’t his aunt learnt from previous attempts to cheat her, two of them by so-called friends? An older woman on her own was considered an easy target by unscrupulous people. Even he had been duped by an attractive friend of his sister. He’d lost unpaid rent, plus his own time getting the damaged property fit to let again. The young woman who was pinning whatever she’d picked up onto a coat hanging on a clothes rack—he now became aware of it, plus two by the window—was delightfully curved and a perfect height to nestle her head cosily on his shoulder. Which he really should not be imagining when he had no idea who, why or what as far as she was concerned. Good looks and toned bodies might attract but they could also mask a desire for the lifestyle and prestige marrying into a wealthy family offered. Hard lessons learnt weren’t easily forgotten. Ignoring the acceleration of his pulse and the warmth spreading through his body despite the cool air, he stepped forward. She looked up, and he had a hankering for warm Christmas brandy heated by the glow in her eyes. Instantly tempered by his self-imposed wariness of mere physical attraction. He took another pace and held out his hand. ‘Hello, Cassie.’ She wiped hers on her thighs before accepting. ‘Dust. Hello, Jack. Mel’s mentioned you a few times.’ She kept their touch brief, barely polite, and removed her hand smoothly so she couldn’t have felt the zing that shot through him. Neither did she sound as impressed as he’d like her to be, though there was no reason for him to care. Or for his fingers to involuntarily try to hold on. He definitely liked the slightly rough edge to her voice. ‘And you don’t approve. Any particular reason?’ She laughed again, triggering the same response. ‘I never make hasty judgements. I admire the way she portrays you, your siblings and cousins as paragons of virtue; I’m just convinced she’s oblivious to your faults.’ He suspected she was baiting him, didn’t rise. ‘She brings out the best in us. Who exactly are you and what are you doing here?’ ‘I’m a declutterer.’ ‘A what?’ * * * Cassie wasn’t fazed by his bewilderment, and quite liked the baffled expression on his handsome rugged face. Payback for not letting her know he was observing her ungainly exit from under the table. She’d caught her breath as they’d made contact and wondered if he’d felt the same electrical spark that zapped up her arm. ‘I help people sort out and downsize their belongings.’ ‘Mel’s not a hoarder.’ Quick and sharp. ‘No, she’s not, and she’s expecting us for coffee.’ She walked past him and went to the kitchen to wash her hands. The tingle on her nape told her he’d followed. She dismissed it, refusing to gush over cowboy hero features and eyes the colour of buffalo grass after spring rain. Or to surrender to the urge to finger comb his ruffled light brown hair. Even if his voice was deep and smooth like the old-time crooners on her mum’s CDs. ‘So she’s hired you. Why keep it quiet?’ His sharp tone irked. Counting to fourteen before turning rather than the universal ten was her safety valve. Failing to get any employer’s relative onside could backfire on her. She enjoyed her work and satisfied customers spread the word, ensuring she rarely had to advertise for clients. He was the first of Mel’s relations she’d met, though a niece had visited prior to her arrival this morning, and there’d been a few phone calls. At her interview, Mel had explained her family regularly checked up on her since she’d insisted she no longer needed a live-in carer. Her hairline fracture had healed with minimal after-effects, and she took care moving around. She still slept in a made-up room downstairs and never went to the second storey when alone. Today, as they’d worked, she’d chatted about the younger generation, and the way they fussed over her. Cassie’s heart had clenched at the thought of having numerous relatives who cared. Running her hand over her hair, she turned to find Jack almost within touching distance. If one desired physical contact. Which she did not. Legs apart, hands tucked into rear pockets and eyes narrowed with suspicion, he appeared to be spoiling for a confrontation. She met his unblinking stare with confidence, regarding the ripples in her stomach as natural under the circumstances. Showing him she wouldn’t be intimidated, she began a slow scroll down his face, noting the high forehead, the wide generous mouth and the strong stubbled jaw. Sculpted biceps and pecs were clearly defined under a fawn work shirt, unbuttoned at the neck and folded at the wrists, revealing tufts of fine brown hair. Unfortunately, it was her pulse quickening and her temperature rising as her gaze slid over firm blue denim-clad thighs and past long legs to black tradies’ boots. Keeping tight control on the speed, she made the journey up to a gratifying flush and a very masculine scowl. ‘I wasn’t aware she hadn’t told you.’ She heard the hitch in her voice, hoped her features didn’t betray her reaction. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I’ll see you in the lounge in a few minutes.’ She walked towards the door, head held high, shoulders rigid. He moved aside. ‘It will be my pleasure.’ A tone or two deeper than his last remark, with a definite hint of cynicism. Upstairs, in the bedroom Mel had invited her to use, she slumped against the closed door, shaken by the encounter with her employer’s handyman nephew. The guy wouldn’t be out of place on the pages of the celebrity magazines Narelle, her best friend, avidly studied. She could imagine those full, firm lips...no! She would not. Cassie had escaped from him to gather her thoughts, and wasn’t sure she’d succeeded even after brushing her hair until it shone. Not for him, she told herself as she went downstairs. Being neat and tidy was a matter of pride. Her career choice had been a natural progression after assisting the woman she’d called Mum all her life help different friends prepare for the move into retirement villages or homes. At first she’d been fascinated by the variety of, to her teenage eyes, useless items, some not even decorative. There were always old postcards and souvenirs, hardly used presents, and so many photographs in albums, boxes and drawers. Talking to these people at this crucial moment in their lives, she’d empathised with their anxieties and their pain at having to let go of items that defined their lives. Growing up with no relatives except Mum, she’d found the differences in family interactions intriguing. She’d also discovered she had a talent for sensing the emotional reasons behind the spoken need to cling to certain pieces. The appeal of working in the same building every day, no matter what the job, had diminished in comparison. * * * Jack’s baritone was audible as Cassie approached the lounge room door, though the actual words were indistinguishable. Their combined laughter triggered a yearning for the closeness she’d shared for twenty-three years with Julie, her maternal aunt, to her, now and for ever, Mum. At two days old, her birth mother had brought her to Julie then left for America. She’d made spasmodic short visits while Cassie was very young and occasional telephone calls after. There’d been no contact for fifteen years. The cancer that had taken Mum four years ago had been short and aggressive, but thankfully there was no heart-wrenching guilt for missed opportunities. Every memory was precious, any reminder, however painful, evoked grateful thanks for the time they’d had. Hearing Jack’s voice again, she closed her eyes, pressed her open hands to her lips and breathed in and out twice. Channelling her inner strength, she walked in. Jack’s expression was inscrutable though his lips curled a little as their eyes met. He’d taken the huge armchair in the corner, body at ease, legs stretched out. She’d tried it when they’d had morning tea, felt lost in its size and preferred a corner of the family-sized sofa. Sam, Mel’s medium-size, scruffy mixed breed dog, was curled up on the rug in front of him. ‘Jack’s been enjoying the Queensland sunshine,’ Mel explained as she poured a cup of coffee and handed it to Cassie. ‘He makes it sound very tempting.’ His velvet tongue would tempt the devil into a trip to the Arctic. Cassie bent to select a chocolate biscuit from the long, low table then sat, arching against the big comfortable cushion. Who needed pricy gyms when they bent, stretched and lifted all day? She worked hard and slept soundly. ‘He’s a little testy because I hired you without consulting the family first, Cassie. As if I can’t decide for myself.’ ‘Not what I said, Aunt Mel,’ he interrupted, eyebrow quirking. ‘I asked why you’ve hired someone when you’d get all the help you need from us.’ Being fit and healthy, he wouldn’t understand his aunt’s wish to regain independence after relying on her extended family’s care and attention for so long. This was a major step in her rehabilitation. ‘And I appreciate it, dear.’ Her employer grinned at Cassie. ‘I can also detect censure. It’s the Aunt Mel. If he’s really cross I become Great-Aunt Melanie.’ Her affection was so clear Cassie smiled then swung in Jack’s direction as he burst out laughing. It was a rich crackly sound, generating an image of a campfire in the Outback. Bizarre, as she’d never had the experience. ‘Guess who I learnt that from. I knew I was in big trouble whenever you called me Jackson Randell in that quiet, resolute tone guaranteed to have any of us kids confessing every misdemeanour.’ ‘Jackson?’ Never ever would Cassie have visualised him with such a distinctive name. All she’d heard and seen—apart from his movie star looks—said regular working guy who’d had normal teenage disputes with his parents. Yet now, as she studied him, she became aware of an innate assurance that tested her ever-present caution. Evidence of well-to-do family and a private education. ‘Only ever used on official documents or by aggrieved mother and aunts.’ His eyes sobered, locked with hers. Straightening up, he put his coffee mug down and leant his elbows on the chair arms. Sam crept forward, laying his head on Jack’s boot. ‘Mel insisted you be present when she explained what’s going on, Cassie.’ Although he pronounced it like everyone else, his timbre as he said her name triggered tingles across her skin. She detected a slight undertone, a hint of warning and was glad Mel spoke first, causing him to turn her way. ‘I’ve had a lot of time to think lately about life, and being dependent on people, Jack. It’s made me realise I’m not as resilient as I’ve always believed. I need to get my home and affairs in order before I become doddery and senile.’ Jack shook his head and chuckled, and the image of a wide plain and starlit sky flared again. ‘Mel Frampton, you’re one of the brightest, sanest people I know, and I’m grateful to be part of the same gene pool. I also have every intention of leading you onto the dance floor at your centenary celebration.’ ‘It’s a date. Right now, not being game to access the top floor without help is frustrating. I decided to begin with a cull of my clothes and shoes. Apart from my bedroom walk-in, I have two wardrobes full of garments, most of which no longer fit.’ ‘You were never overweight.’ Jack’s forceful exclamation surprised both women. ‘No, but it’s crept on over the years. Not good for an inactive middle-aged woman. Eating more salads and limited baking means I’ve lost some. Now it’s time to get rid of anything that doesn’t suit me or fit comfortably. My accident was a reality check.’ ‘Okay, it doesn’t...’ ‘Cassie, you explain how it works.’ Gee, thanks, Mel. Now I have to confront him and pretend I’m not affected by his piercing green eyes. The owner of those disturbing eyes shifted in his chair, aligning his body to hers, his posture challenging. He flexed the fingers of his left hand on his thigh. Convincing his sceptical mind that her employment was the better option required tactful honesty. It wasn’t unusual to have relatives question her motives or trustworthiness. There were so many dodgy crooks trying to take advantage of older people, especially women living alone. Jack Randell in protective mode was going to be tougher than most to placate. He wasn’t budging until he’d been fully informed of her role in his aunt’s objectives. Cassie’s heart warmed at the unmistakable love and concern driving his determination. ‘Every situation is different, depending on the needs of my clients. I never try to influence their choices. Satisfied referrals are my main source of employment.’ His body eased and his furrowed brow cleared. She continued. ‘All items are listed on a tablet which stays at the client’s home. On completion, they receive a printout and backup on USB then my files are cleared.’ ‘Completely?’ His shirt tightened across his chest as he breathed in and squared his shoulders. It was a very I’m-the-male-here action that ought to rankle yet didn’t. She steeled her resolve. Macho didn’t impress her but...her practical mind appreciated a man this fit would be handy on many of the assignments she accepted. At least his muscles would; the effect his proximity seemed to have on her might not be so welcome. ‘Jackson.’ Mel’s tone was sharp and every sign of intimidation evaporated. CHAPTER TWO (#u28f1b8ac-2adc-597f-8c5e-389ab8ee8466) JACK SMILED AT his aunt, let out a huff of breath and picked up his coffee, relishing the strong rich flavour. He’d hold his tongue for now and do his own private investigation of Ms Cassie Clarkson later. He refocused on the alluring stranger with the steady gaze who unsettled his heartbeat and had him speculating how dark her eyes would grow in desire. How many other men had she swayed with her pacifying manner? Not his affair. Bad choice of word. He gave her his full attention as she continued, noting liquid had no effect on her unique voice. Did passion? Focus, Randell. ‘Family contribution and involvement can be emotive, which often leads to controversy. I always recommend nothing is given to charity or thrown away without consultation.’ ‘We decided the best plan was to bring everything downstairs for me to check,’ Mel interjected, and he swung towards her. ‘The clothes I want for use will go in the room I’m sleeping in now, and others for keeping can go back to my bedroom. The family will be invited to help themselves from the rest. Now, are you going to play nice or do I ban you until we’ve finished?’ She wouldn’t. One glance at her beloved, resolute face and he capitulated. Being forbidden to come here was unthinkable, even for a short time. He held both hands up in defeat, his empty mug hanging on one finger. ‘Okay, I surrender. Need help with anything? I’m free for the rest of the day.’ Though his expertise in women’s clothes was more in the line of removing them, not shifting them around. ‘I do have a list of minor repairs you can look at. Would you like to stay for dinner?’ ‘Do you need to ask?’ He stood up just as a new symphony came through the speakers set high in two corners. ‘It’s good to hear Strauss again. I feel a definite urge to waltz you round the furniture right now.’ Mel laughed. ‘Give my leg a little longer, and I’ll accept.’ She rose gracefully to her feet, pride in her voice as she told Cassie, ‘I taught all his generation proper ballroom dancing.’ Jack’s heart swelled at her lithe movements, belying her age and the trauma she’d been through. He prayed she’d stay as bright and feisty for many years. Seeing Cassie sneak an extra chocolate biscuit as she got to her feet, he raised his eyebrows. She noticed and her eyes sparkled, daring him to comment as she took a bite. He let his gaze flick over her slender figure then grinned. Dipping his head, he gestured for her to precede him to the door, admiring the delectable view as she did. He prided himself on his judgement of character, improved through the years of buying and renting properties, and honed by the few instances of being conned. It failed him where Cassie Clarkson was concerned, and he didn’t want to dwell too much on the reason. He’d treat her with respect and ignore his attraction, though keeping an eye on her wouldn’t be hard to take at all. Having strangers think he wasn’t as affluent as Mel or others suited him fine. He relished the hands-on work he did equally with the intellectual stimulation of the stock market. He enjoyed the easy relationship with the people he did maintenance jobs for, and disliked the fact it would lose its informality if they found out he was also their landlord. Flaunting his initial successes, even to his family, had seemed conceited so he played it down, not worried if others believed he wasted his potential. He understood how money influenced people’s attitude, having let it rule him in his teens. Personal ambition had driven him to seek after-school employment and invest in shares. He’d soon discovered that for some girls his name and the prospect of money took priority over the person behind them. Now wiser, and matured by experience, he wanted people to admire him because of who he was, and how he acted, not for the numbers on his tax return. After discussing the precise, neatly written task list with Mel, he went to fetch appropriate tools from his vehicle. On his return, he heard voices from the family room and glanced in. One of the racks was now almost full, there were evening gowns on the second, and more clothes lay on the covered billiard table against the side wall. He couldn’t hear what they said but their mingled laughter tipped the scales in Cassie’s favour. Mel was happier than she’d been since the car accident. He backed away and went to tighten the hinges on the kitchen cupboard doors, wishing it were a complicated task to keep his mind from straying to bold walnut-brown eyes and kissable lips. * * * Cassie made four trips to one of the spare bedrooms for classical evening wear that sparked a slight twinge of envy. She loved the textures, colours and styling of brand names she recognised from magazines. Her yearly spending on new clothing was probably less than some of these dresses or outfits had cost on their own. During her long meeting with Mel over lunch in the city, and in less than a day here, she’d gained an impression of an ever-expanding well-educated, affluent family with skilled professions and good standing in the community. It was also obvious they were close-knit and devoted. She’d seen the same in many families, though had no idea how it really felt to have multiple relatives. There had always been friends to play and share birthdays with but over time many had changed school or moved away. Narelle had been a constant friend since her family had moved into the neighbourhood when they were both eleven. Within the first week at high school, they’d formed a group with two boys and another girl, the bonds strong to this day. Their families had always welcomed her in their homes, encouraging her to be part of their everyday lives and never giving her reason to feel like an outsider. Yet much of the time she’d felt as if she had an internal barrier preventing her from allowing herself to completely become part of it all. It was as if she were an audience member who had wandered up onto the stage and didn’t know her lines but enjoyed watching from up close. At odd moments in her youth, usually late at night, she’d sometimes fantasise about having a real sibling. She had never, before or now, had any interest or curiosity about her birth parents. Not even when she’d lost Mum and felt completely alone for a while—still did on occasion, no matter how much support her friends gave her. This was the main reason she’d rented out the home she’d inherited and moved in with Brad and Phil three years ago. They were as close to brothers as she’d ever have, and would probably tease her mercilessly if she mentioned that spark when she and Jack shook hands. He was an enigma, born into the elite class of Adelaide yet he’d chosen a trade for his profession. As she went through the foyer, she could hear him humming in the kitchen. It reminded her of Mel’s excitement after he’d phoned earlier to say he’d arrived home late yesterday and would call in today. ‘He’s been my mainstay since Bob died. Could have joined the family law firm but studied business management instead and passed with honours. I don’t know why he chose to work in property repair and maintenance, though he is buying houses that he rents out.’ She’d said the latter as if it were the epitome of success. ‘He can be very reticent at times, and I’m not sure how many he has, three, maybe more by now, plus his home at Port Noarlunga. I just wish he’d find someone special and settle down. Casual short-term affairs, even if they end without acrimony, are no substitute for a long, happy marriage. I’m sure that mishap... No, that’s in the past.’ As far as Cassie was concerned, any attractive male his age who’d never come near to being engaged or married had to have serious commitment issues. Her own situation didn’t count. Being illegitimate, alone and knowing nothing of her paternal heritage made her wary of close relationships. How could she offer any man all he’d desire in a wife and partner when there was no paternal name on her birth certificate? When she had no family history to offer? ‘Sorry I’ve been so long. A friend wanted my recipe for jam drop biscuits.’ Cassie started, though she was getting used to Mel’s voice preceding her into a room. Adjusting the straps of a dress on the rack gave her a moment to refocus. The red silk under her fingers was so fine, she could imagine the luxurious texture against her skin as she swayed or danced. It was every woman’s dream, a spectacular gown for a romantic waltz in a special man’s arms. Mel came closer. ‘Oh, my goodness, I don’t even remember some of these clothes. How did I collect so many?’ ‘You could hold a garage sale and finance a Pacific cruise.’ Jack’s amused voice made Cassie spin round. She’d assumed Mel was alone. ‘Don’t be flippant, Jack.’ His aunt’s tone softened her words. ‘We donate unwanted goods, not sell them.’ ‘There are outlets for high quality second-hand fashions,’ Cassie told them. ‘They’d fetch a higher price than a charity could charge, and you could donate the money. We still have to empty the second wardrobe.’ ‘Hmm, what do you think, Jack?’ ‘It’s worth checking into. Now, if Cassie will show me which hinges need tightening upstairs, I’ll get them done now.’ His smile didn’t reach his green eyes and her instinct was to decline. He could easily tell which ones were loose so why ask for her help? She answered with a curt nod. Knowing he was following did funny things to her usual composed bearing, and she found herself taking the stairs with slow careful steps. Heat from his eyes skittled up and down her spine and the ripple in her belly was like a soft breeze stirring waves on the sea. Long steady breaths didn’t quell her escalating heartbeat. She twisted round at the top, grasping the rarity of being almost eye to eye. He caught her elbow without giving her a chance to speak, and gently propelled her to the bedroom at the far end of the passage. Shaking free from his tingling hold, she stepped back a few paces and kept her voice low. ‘As if you need help. This is like a second home for you.’ Even huskier than normal when she’d meant to sound forceful. He leant on the doorjamb, the rigidity of his muscles negating his casual stance, and gazed at her silently, features composed. This was a man adept at verbal negotiations. His lips curled confidently, and her body quivered as if he’d stroked warm fingers across her skin. She instinctively re-ran her mantra in her head. Stay strong. Keep distance. ‘Sounds like you’ve heard a lot in one day, Cassie Clarkson.’ ‘It comes with the job. People, especially if they live alone, often open up to someone who’s temporary and won’t have a lasting connection in their life.’ ‘You remember what they tell you.’ ‘I’ve learnt not to retain the sensitive personal stuff. But I’ll never forget your aunt’s courage and determination to rebuild her life for the second time. She’s inspiring.’ He straightened up and took a pace forward. She sucked in air and held her ground. ‘She’s vulnerable since she lost Bob, even more so now.’ ‘How long since...?’ ‘Three years. Two months after their forty-fifth anniversary.’ His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. ‘Imagine losing someone after forty-five years, how suddenly the one you care about is no longer there.’ She heard deep pain in the last few words, empathised as hers had hardly eased. Was it Bob or someone else he grieved for? ‘She has all of you. That’s more than some people have.’ His head jerked up and she averted her eyes. He’s smart, Cassie. Guard what you say. Keep strong and quiet. ‘I assume you have references that can be verified.’ Blunt, as if he regretted showing emotion. ‘Of course.’ She held his gaze. She had nothing to hide except her inexplicable responses to him. His low grunt showed he wasn’t quite convinced. ‘Do you have them with you? May I see them?’ Calmly stated with an I-won’t-be-dissuaded manner. ‘Not unless Mel requests it.’ She mimicked his attitude, prepared to be polite, refusing to be bullied. He frowned and came closer, into her personal space. ‘She can be too trusting. I’m betting she hasn’t asked for them.’ She smelt clean male sweat with a hint of sandalwood each time she inhaled, fought the instinct to run from the room. Yet not from fear; quite the opposite. She had an irrational urge to edge forward, minimise the gap. Jack could sense a women’s attraction for him, but it didn’t mean he’d follow through. Cassie was giving out mixed messages. Her body implied yes, her eyes were wary and her voice said no. She boldly locked eyes with him—he now discerned a fine gold rim round her dark brown irises, yet at times there were shutters, like a misty blind she lowered at will. She had spunk, hadn’t backed off even though he came near enough to detect the faint aroma of peaches. Sweet. Enticing. He was aware of her in a new, unnerving way and his body responded to her, male to female. His gut feeling said she had secrets hidden behind solid barriers no one was permitted to breach. She could keep them unless they caused trouble for Mel. His life ran smoothly and his long-term strategy for success was on track. As alluring as she was, he’d never let his guard down, never again let a woman believe she could manipulate him. Tara had swayed him so many times, with her pouting lips and soft caresses, had been convinced she’d succeed again on the trip to the snowfields nine years ago. With blue eyes misting, she’d denied flirting with the ski instructor, only he’d seen her and anger had flared at her lies. Bitter accusations had ended with him telling her to find some other patsy and flinging himself onto the bed they’d shared, telling her not to wake him if she came back. She hadn’t returned. An impulsive decision to ski alone on an unfamiliar track had ended her life. He couldn’t change the past but by keeping rigid control of his temper he had command of his future. Challenge flared in Cassie’s eyes, her lips curled and she tilted her head like a beguiling child. ‘Why don’t you check with her when you come down?’ The emotive tone in her voice didn’t quite match the softer personal one in her eyes. And he wasn’t sure which one he’d like to pursue, despite his recent vow. He gestured for her to pass and she did. Too quick. Too close. Her fingers brushed his arm and a bolt of energy shot through him, like nothing he’d felt in his life. She’d been affected too, though she hid her reaction well. Had she picked up static from moving around a large carpeted house all day? Had to be that. So touch her again and prove it. Not a chance he was game to take at the moment. * * * Cassie wasn’t sure how she made it out of the room without buckling to the floor. She huffed out the air captured in her lungs when the electrical charge from his touch short-circuited coherent thought and action. Fleeing to the safety of the family room, she was thankful to be alone. Once she could dismiss as an anomaly, twice was... Did he pick up static electricity in his work? Didn’t tradies’ boots counteract that? Logic told her they did, as there’d been no reaction when he’d hugged his aunt. She didn’t want to be logical. She wanted to be safe from any involvement with Jack Randell or any other man of his social status. Conceived during an illicit one-night stand, she knew exactly what she was, and how she’d be regarded by elite society. And how easily a man’s declared devotion could evaporate when tested. Jack’s appearance and actions gave the impression of a man working his way up the financial ladder, but he had wealthy connections and he’d probably inherit. Whatever the incentive for his current lifestyle, it would be an easy switch to his family’s world of fancy cars and fine dining. She’d never have the luxury of such a choice—her world was compact sedans and home cooking. Letting out a light self-deprecating laugh, she walked over to the desk where she’d left her laptop next to Mel’s computer and printer. Any spark of attraction he’d felt would dissipate at her lack of encouragement. He’d have jobs waiting to be done during the day and friends to catch up with at night so he probably wouldn’t be around much. On Thursday afternoon she’d give Mel her printouts plus a list of exclusive second-hand fashion boutiques, and drive away. That just left tonight to resist his innate charm. Her body relaxed as she slow breathed, doing her steadying count to fourteen and repeating her mantra. Stay strong. Keep distance. She resumed checking labels and sizes, mystified by a world where haute couture and fashion changes were all-important. Why should someone be judged by the brand or style of the clothes they wore? Neat comfortable jeans and muted tops or jumpers were her standard uniform. Her casual sneakers, boots or safety footwear were a far cry from the large array of high-heeled shoes she’d seen upstairs. They and others with sturdy low heels would be brought down and sorted for the female family members to view. CHAPTER THREE (#u28f1b8ac-2adc-597f-8c5e-389ab8ee8466) JACK WAS MULLING over his conversation with Cassie when he found Mel setting the table in the dining room. His heart lifted at the sight of the flower centrepiece and the crystal glasses beside each place setting, as they’d always been at dinner before her accident. A few stupid seconds of driving inattention to check a text and a teenager’s car had veered towards the kerb. Overcorrecting had sent it slamming into Mel’s daughter’s passenger door. And Mel. The weeks in hospital and drawn-out rehabilitation, with a broken leg and lacerations on her arm and across the top of her chest, had taken a toll. Table decorations didn’t sound like much but he thanked whatever gods there were that she seemed to be embracing the life she’d loved again. Not being able to drive, stand for long to cook and having to convert the small lounge into a downstairs bedroom had been hard enough. Being reliant on others for everything when she’d struggled so hard to be independent after Bob’s fatal heart attack had almost broken her spirit. If having the distraction of Cassie Clarkson here for a few days was the price to pay for getting his beloved Aunt Mel back to her old self, so be it. ‘Going classy, huh? Do I need to race home and change?’ Mel’s smile lit up her face, and her eyes shone. ‘I thought Cassie deserved it. She’s a sweet girl, and I like her. What we’re doing is good for me, Jack.’ He walked over and hugged her. ‘I wholeheartedly approve of anything that makes you happy, Mel.’ ‘Even if I take it further?’ He pulled back to see her expression. ‘As in?’ ‘As in asking Cassie for a quote for a full downsize. Not all at once—over a few months, in between her other contracts. That way it won’t be so tiring and easier to accept.’ A full house sorting? The first step to moving, selling her home. Life-changing for her, and she wanted his approval. This was a chance to make a small repayment for her and Bob’s unconditional support. ‘If it’s what you want and feel you’re ready for, I’m with you one hundred percent. You know you can rely on me, Mel.’ He kissed her cheek and stepped back. ‘Do I have time to take Sam for a run before we eat?’ ‘Twenty minutes.’ She patted his cheek as if he were a schoolboy again. ‘Go.’ He went. * * * As he pounded along the footpath his mind churned with Mel’s revelation. He’d fallen into the trap of believing that Mel’s continuing recovery meant life would one day be as it always had been. Though he’d hoped she’d relent and have someone move in with her for company and safety. She, Bob and their home had been his lifeline when home trauma threatened to derail his carefully planned objectives. He’d managed to get through the usual rebellious stage of drinking and partying without irreparable damage to his reputation. He’d refused to study for the degree his father had wanted him to take, or to join one of the Randell established businesses, which had caused deep-seated angst. His dream to build a property empire had only been shared with Bob. During their discussions in the garden workshop, his great-uncle had taught him how to repair and maintain a home and its contents. He’d also instilled Jack with respect for his tools and the knowledge of their care and maintenance. He and Mel had encouraged him when he’d got his first after-school job, shelf-stacking at a local supermarket, and celebrated with him after he signed the contract to buy his first rental property. His one small consolation when Bob died was that he’d shared in every success, and had been thrilled when Jack had become a millionaire. Even if it was only on paper or consisting of bricks and mortar. Thinking of that gentle man caused his heart to ache as if he’d run a marathon. He pushed through the pain. They’d always put his needs first; now it was time for him to man up and do the same for Mel. Even she didn’t know the true extent of his current finances. Having everyone believe he was buying a few properties and earning his daily living in maintenance kept him grounded and his demons at bay. Even then he could never be sure if it was him or the knowledge of his family’s assets that attracted women. Tara had made it clear that she’d never date anyone she considered below her social status. Mel’s experiences had further proved that wealth drew frauds and con artists. So many people wanted easy money rather than work for it. Did Cassie? Was she wary of him as Mel’s protector or as a man? Would her attitude change if she found out about his new business venture? Sometime soon, when he took the next—this time gigantic—corporate step, he’d tell his family, prior to an official announcement. If the current bank negotiations were successful, he’d be purchasing a small suburban shopping centre and have the capital to extend and improve it. * * * Cassie stood in the shower, combing conditioner through her hair, trying to make sense of the intensity of her responses to Jack. Her normally guarded nature had abandoned her and she had no idea why. There’d been interest in his captivating eyes despite his reservations about her presence here. For a second or two she wished she’d packed at least one dress and some make-up to wear in the evenings. A mild flirtation with a handsome eligible man to give her self-esteem a boost was tempting. What was she thinking? An hour or so ago, she’d been grateful their association would be short-lived. The man scrambled her brain. Clients’ family members were taboo. Even those with alluring grass-green eyes, football hero muscles and unmanageable hair. * * * She was blown away by the table d?cor when she helped Mel carry the steaming dishes into the dining room. There was even a bottle of wine in an ice bucket near the place settings at one end. This all proved the gulf between her life and theirs. Most evenings at home, she ate from a lap tray while watching television. Her stomach rumbled as she breathed in the mouth-watering aroma of grilled steak and onion sauce. Until that moment, she hadn’t felt hungry at all. ‘I’m having ros? to drink,’ Mel said as she filled the water glasses. ‘How about you? Jack will probably get a beer from the fridge after his run with Sam.’ ‘A run? In his work boots?’ ‘He always keeps running shoes in his ute, and it’s a regular outing for Sam. He sulks if any of the younger visitors don’t have time for at least a short walk.’ Mel settled at the head of the table. ‘Ros? sounds nice.’ Cassie poured the two drinks, sat on her hostess’s right and took a slow look around the room. She hadn’t seen it, apart from a quick glance in on her arrival. The antique mantelpiece, the polished sideboard and two of the papered walls held photographs of family. In here they were casual or celebratory. In the family room, school and sporting pictures covered all four walls. Jack was easily recognisable in many of them. ‘Does Jack call in often?’ She oughtn’t to ask, but couldn’t hold back. ‘It depends on his work. Though he lives twenty minutes from here, most of his regular clients are in the northern and eastern suburbs. You understand the drawbacks of driving that distance.’ Cassie sipped her drink and pondered. Travelling time plus fuel-inflated costs influenced choices, especially for pensioners. Word-of-mouth referrals meant the majority of her clients lived north of Adelaide, as she did. Mel’s insistence she stayed the Tuesday to Thursday nights in her Woodcroft home meant her quote had been favourable. ‘He wasn’t too pleased at your sleeping here. He tends to be cautious where I’m concerned. I told him he should be pleased I wasn’t alone.’ ‘It’s good he isn’t sensitive about showing how much he cares.’ ‘True, I love that the family are so considerate, just don’t like to be reminded I’m getting older. I’ve warned Jack but he can be tenacious, Cassie. He’ll try to sneak subtle questions into general conversation.’ He already had, and wasn’t subtle at all. ‘He can ask anything he likes.’ She didn’t have to answer. Sam’s bark echoed from the hall. A moment later he trotted in and curled onto a rug. Jack followed shortly behind, wearing a clean green T-shirt, his boots replaced by black and red runners. Uncapped bottle in hand, he stooped to kiss Mel’s forehead. ‘Sam was pretty keen today; didn’t stop once.’ He sat opposite Cassie, took a deep swig of beer and surveyed her with penetrating interest, causing her to stretch her shoulders. Neither he nor Mel seemed to find it incongruous for him to drink from the bottle at a formally set dinner. As if reading her thoughts, he carefully poured the remaining liquid into the glass by his cutlery. His sudden grin tripped her heartbeat and sent her pulse racing. She so had to find a way to combat his charm. ‘Maybe you should come with us next time. The way your skin glows, I figure you run on a regular basis.’ He thought she glowed? How could one sentence in a casual tone send tiny quivers of pleasure dancing down her spine? Her fingers trembled as she sipped her wine, hoping she didn’t choke from the sudden tightness in her throat. Unless all three housemates were home she ate simple meals and salad. This setting was perfect, the grilled steak delicious and the vegetables slightly crunchy, the way she preferred them. This was how she imagined dining in a fancy restaurant would feel, except Jack would be dressed in appropriate attire. She tried to picture him in a tailored suit and tie and failed. Yet that niggling thought that he projected only what he wanted people to see persisted. His upbringing almost guaranteed black tie in the wardrobe. ‘Cassie, are you with us?’ Mel’s question startled her. ‘Sorry, I was daydreaming, trying to remember when I’ve had a tastier meal.’ She avoided looking across the table, hoping the blush spreading up her neck and cheeks wouldn’t be noticeable under the soft lights of the overhead chandelier. ‘Thank you. We were discussing my granddaughter Janette in Melbourne, whose baby is due in five weeks. I’m going to be a great-grandmother.’ Cassie was acutely aware of Jack’s keen interest, but didn’t understand how that concerned her. ‘That’s so exciting.’ An ideal event to strengthen Mel’s mental recovery. ‘Another sign that life moves on. Deciding to cull my clothes has been freeing for me. I think I’m ready to let go of some items I keep simply because of the past. Would you consider working out a plan to help me downsize in short stages between other commitments?’ Wow, that came out of the blue. She liked Mel and her positive attitude to life, and would happily take on the assignment under normal conditions. Yet Jack’s presence added an emotive element; one she’d have to conquer if she accepted. He’d be occupied elsewhere during the day and hopefully there wouldn’t be too many evening visits when she stayed over on weeknights. She’d have to be polite and aloof in his company, professional to a T, and avoid any physical contact. ‘I’m sure I can.’ As she finished speaking, she turned as if pulled by an invisible thread to Jack’s enigmatic green eyes. * * * Jack hoped his features didn’t reveal his conflicting thoughts. Mel living alone in this big house had worried the family since Bob’s death. Any attempt to discuss sharing or buying a smaller residence had been firmly rejected so the subject had been dropped. If Cassie’s references were as good as Mel claimed, he’d normally have no reservations about her employment. The problem was him and his instant attraction to her. Hell, he was a mature man and the solution was obvious. Avoid visiting when she was here, and act like the mature man he was supposed to be whenever they met. ‘Won’t that be inconvenient for you?’ He kept his tone as impassive as possible, not easy when her eyes glinted as if she’d read his indecisive mind. ‘Many of my clients are retired, often with health problems. Every contract allows for unforeseen contingencies, and I’ve become extremely adept at rescheduling. There have been times when I’ve juggled multiple jobs successfully.’ She faced Mel. ‘Tomorrow we’ll sit down with diaries and discuss what and when.’ ‘Good, that’s settled.’ Mel lifted her wineglass in salute and Cassie clinked it with hers as a signal of agreement. Jack followed suit with his near-empty glass of beer, trying to fathom why he felt as if he’d somehow scored a win. They debated their favourite television shows over a dessert of fresh fruit and whipped cream. Jack teased Mel about her favourite soap operas, claiming she’d converted many of his generation into avid fans. And wondered why Cassie’s smile at the interaction wasn’t mirrored in her eyes. He professed not to watch much at all. ‘Sport, documentaries or investigative programmes—whatever’s on at the time. I’d pick you for a movie girl, Cassie, romance or high adventure.’ ‘Wrong. Comedies or space sagas, as long as they’re well written and acted. If not, I switch channels. I also enjoy home improvement shows.’ ‘How long do you give them before you click?’ He intensified his gaze as he spoke and waited for her answer. Her viewing habits were irrelevant; her character intrigued him. ‘That depends on how bad it is, what else is on and how tired I am.’ Clever, evasive answer. * * * The heat coursing through Cassie’s veins had nothing to do with the fake wood fire warming the room, and everything to do with the fact that Jack had turned his attention towards her. His smile and slight raise of one eyebrow hinted he read her true thoughts. He was wrong, couldn’t possibly know Mum’s favourite programme, always set to tape so never missed, was an enduring Aussie soapy. Stretching her back, she rose and reached for his bowl. ‘I’ll stack the dishwasher if you make the hot drinks?’ ‘None for me,’ Mel said. ‘I’ll watch the news with you then I’m off to bed. I feel tired in the nicest possible way. Tomorrow I might have a baking session.’ Which would leave Cassie alone with Jack unless he called it a night too. She’d had a long day, exacerbated by her body’s inexplicable reaction to him, new and unnerving. Could she feign plausible fatigue? How did she somehow know her excuse would be met with scepticism and that eyebrow quirk? The moment his aunt pushed back her seat to stand, he was there to ease it away and hold her arm. She spoke quietly to him with her back turned to Cassie, and his answering grin stirred a feather-light fluttering in her stomach. ‘Always, Mel.’ He picked up the empty glasses and large bowl. ‘You get settled in the lounge and rest. And I’ll expect cherry and ginger cake next visit.’ He headed for the door, his husky chuckle flooding Cassie with a longing for the easy banter that came with deep affection. ‘Confident boy, isn’t he? Do you think he’d accept something fresh from the bakery?’ Mel’s tongue-in-cheek remark was accompanied with a gentle laugh. Cassie took a moment to answer, her mind still processing ‘boy’. She doubted there was a single immature cell in Jack Randell’s body. ‘From what I’ve seen, he’d settle for home brand plain biscuits to spend time with you, Mel.’ ‘I admit to resorting to packaged cakes and biscuits since the accident, and he’s never even hinted the standard was lower.’ CHAPTER FOUR (#u28f1b8ac-2adc-597f-8c5e-389ab8ee8466) JACK WAS FILLING the dishwasher when Cassie brought the remaining china into the kitchen. She kept a good space between them, admiring the way his muscles flexed as he reached up to the bench then bent forward to place each item. No, you don’t. You mustn’t. He pivoted round, as if sensing her appraisal. She wasn’t aware of having made a sound, and the gurgle of the coffee machine should have covered any if she had. ‘Coffee, tea or hot chocolate?’ His sombre eyes and polite tone put her on alert. ‘White tea, thank you. I’ll finish here.’ Instead of moving away as she expected, he stepped sideways, resting his hands and butt against the bench and crossing one foot over the other. A very masculine stance which should not affect her. Renewed flutters in her stomach proved otherwise. ‘I’m not totally convinced about this extra sorting. It might prove too much for her.’ Corporate tone. And she knew there was no uncertainty in his mind at all. ‘Because you care for her.’ His brow furrowed, his chest expanded and he crossed his arms as if preparing to challenge her reasoning. She forestalled him. ‘She’s been through a prolonged, trying time. Getting rid of clothes that no longer fit is cathartic and means she’s looking forward. I can schedule a few days at a time, and if she finds it tiring or too traumatic we can stop.’ ‘Your contract will...’ ‘Have an out clause which allows for either of those as well as unforeseen circumstances.’ Jack wished he could explain why he wanted a longer break before Mel disposed of anything else. His treasured aunt was on a high at the moment, and he feared she might regret the impulse later. Any delaying tactic would be welcome. Unfortunately, his normally active mind was blank. Well, not really. It was a jumbled mass of thoughts and images of the dark-haired beauty who was regarding him with stunning, empathetic eyes. She had no conception of the perceptive and compassionate woman who’d been the mainstay of the family as long as he could remember. Mel had been the one they’d all turned to for guidance until Bob’s death had shaken her belief in life and herself. ‘She lost confidence in her own judgement. People she trusted as friends tried to scam her while she was grieving for Bob. Two years ago, an acquaintance claiming to have been a business colleague almost coerced her into signing a contract to put this house on the market.’ He’d been in Queensland that time too. He pushed to his feet, needing action. The exasperated breath he took filled his nostrils with her delicate scent, distracting him. He shook his head, fisted his hands. ‘She had the sense to tell my cousin, and he warned the guy off. She wasn’t ready then—why now?’ ‘She may not be.’ What the hell? He glared at her, irked at her composed and conciliatory demeanour. ‘Then why the charade?’ Her lips curled and his exasperation dissolved, his taut muscles slumping like Sam after a run. The combination of her beguiling eyes, enticing smile and husky voice was irresistible. ‘It’s not. She needs to know she’s in control after months of relying on you and your family for so much. I’ll ensure she doesn’t do anything irrational without consultation. You have to ensure no one else puts pressure on her in any way.’ Easily done. Whatever was best for his aunt—his great-aunt. Accepting she was ageing cut deeper than he’d imagined. The thought that this home might no longer be his family’s focal meeting place was mind-numbing. The likelihood had been mentioned occasionally; now it was looming as a reality. Verbally committed to the new business purchase, he’d be unable to buy the property himself in the foreseeable future. He rubbed the back of his neck in frustration as he turned towards the bench to make the tea and coffee. On the positive side, staggering the downsizing over months pushed any definite decision into next year. There would be time to find out what Mel really wanted, time for family discussions about the future ownership of the house they all loved. Time to work out an optimum solution for everyone. For now, strong coffee and reliving today’s encounters with Cassie Clarkson would probably keeping him awake tonight, surprisingly not an unpleasant prospect. He heard the dishwasher start up and glanced sideways to see Cassie pulling on rubber gloves to rinse the wineglasses. Picking up the two drinks, he left her alone, unable to think of a suitable parting remark. * * * Cassie let the hot water cascade over her hands, allowing treasured memories of her and Mum to flow back. If they were both home, they’d share the cooking and cleaning up, then often settle in front of the television with drinks and home-baked biscuits. The pain of losing her had barely diminished. The love and laughter they’d shared was as vivid and powerful as ever. She’d been the one who’d taught Cassie to believe in herself and never let anyone demean her, either as a woman or a person. Jack’s bond with his aunt was reminiscent of hers with Mum, as close as that of natural mother and child. She’d give up everything she owned to share life with an ageing Julie Clarkson. Death had denied her the gift she hoped Mel’s family appreciated. She drained the water, flipped the gloves off and squared her shoulders. Jack Randell had been told to play nice and he better had. No more disturbing tingles, and hopefully he’d be busy doing repairs and maintenance a good distance away any time she was here. * * * Cassie’s tea was just right, the after-dinner mints melt-in-the-mouth and Jack’s presence in her peripheral vision distracting. Even the TV interview with the hunky action movie star hadn’t grabbed her attention. Yesterday it might have. She shifted position, curling her legs up, angling her body away from the big armchair. A distinct humph made her swing round and catch him frowning at the weather pattern on the screen. The presenter was forecasting steady rain for two days. ‘That cans tomorrow’s lawn mowing. Looks like I’ll be working through that list of yours, Mel. And any other chores you think of.’ ‘Are you sure, Jack? There must be...’ ‘The inside jobs booked for next week can’t be brought forward. I’m all yours.’ Those three little words created unfamiliar and unwarranted sensations in Cassie’s abdomen. Like a ferry ride in rough weather, exhilarating and heart-stopping. They spread warmth to her toes and up to her cheeks, and she quickly looked away. Bending her head, she sipped her drink, hoping he’d think any colour came from its heat. Mel muted the sound and left the remote on the coffee table. ‘Do you want to stay tonight, Jack?’ Her innocent question almost had Cassie choking as she swallowed. Jack sleeping in the room across the hall from hers. Jack showering in the bathroom one wall away. Jack... What was the matter with her? She shared a house with two men, and didn’t turn a hair if they wandered around draped in a towel. ‘I’ll go home, thanks. How about I pick up breakfast in the morning? Special treat.’ ‘Ooh, yes, delicious egg and bacon rolls, full of calories and cholesterol. Delightfully wicked at my age,’ Mel enthused. ‘Just don’t tell my doctor.’ ‘It’s a deal.’ ‘With that pleasant thought to send me to sleep, I’ll say goodnight. Thank you both for a lovely day, the best I’ve had for ages.’ After turning the sound up again, she left the room. Persuasive advertisements urged them to buy, buy, buy, backed up by jarring music. Cassie finished her drink, held on to her mug and tried to formulate an intelligent topic opener. Nothing came to mind. ‘Yawning might help.’ Startled, she almost dropped her mug. His smooth-as-silk deep timbre coiled around her heart, enthralling her. His wide smile and the provocative gleam in his eyes activated warning signals in her brain. She set her mug down, clenched her stomach and mentally strengthened her resolve. If he thought she’d be easy to charm, he was in for a disappointment. The foolish romantic side of her hoped he’d try. ‘Help what?’ His grin widened. ‘Convince me you’re tired and want to go to bed.’ Her sucked-in gasp wasn’t nearly as incriminating as the heatwave that swept over her skin. The surge of desire at his unintended suggestion stunned her, left her speechless and fighting for breath. He caught the double meaning, chuckled, and that darn Outback scene flashed into her head. She blinked it away. Too late—he’d noticed. In a rapid switch, he leant forward, hands clasped between his knees. His now sombre expression matched the thoughtful contemplation in his eyes. She drew in a steadying lungful of air and waited. ‘Your choice, Cassie. I can leave now or we can a while. We’re going to see quite a lot of each other in the next few months. The more at ease we are together, the happier Mel will be.’ Easy for you to say, Jack Randell. Your hormones aren’t going crazy whenever you’re near me. She wriggled back into the corner. As if that little bit of distance will diminish his potency. Her brain scrabbled for an intelligent question. ‘How long have your parents lived in Queensland?’ Background stuff, not too personal. If he followed suit, her disclosures could be of similar ilk. * * * All Jack had gained was a few minutes’ grace so why the crazy, unwarranted zing of success? He felt muscles he hadn’t noticed become taut, loosen, and wished he were on the settee beside her. Close enough to inhale her alluring aroma. Not tonight, perhaps—would there ever be a good time? And what had happened to his stay away when she’s here decision? ‘Nine years. My mother hated Adelaide winters, always spent part of them up north with her family. She met Dad on a spring cruise to the Pacific Islands and married him six months later.’ He relaxed into his chair, legs outstretched, arms loose on the side arms. When Sam walked over and plopped beside him, head over Jack’s ankles, he bent to scratch the dog’s ears. ‘She put up with the cold because she loved him and he was an integral part of the family law firm, handling the accounting department. Once my brother, sister and I were self-sufficient, Dad resigned, sold up and they relocated to Queensland. He works for himself with an assistant. Less pressure, more time together.’ An abridged version, omitting his mother’s depression in his teens, and his struggle to avoid becoming ensnared in the Randell legal world. ‘Mel said most of the family find a reason to visit them during the year.’ Jack’s gut tightened at the faint tremor in Cassie’s voice and the wistful expression in her eyes. Quickly blinked away. ‘Especially during our winter. Your family aren’t within easy contact?’ She stilled, broke eye contact and her shoulders pressed back. Away from him or the question? ‘No.’ Steady. Resolute. ‘Mum died four years ago. There are no other relatives.’ Her stark sentences left him dumbfounded, mouth open, back stiffening as he jerked forward. ‘No one?’ No way could he envisage a world without his parents, aunts and uncles, his siblings and numerous cousins. Noisy, sometimes boisterous get-togethers had always been an integral part of his life. He’d rebelled at the pressure from his father and mother to conform, to gain entry to law school and follow the path they’d chosen for him. There’d been loud, occasionally acrimonious arguments about his partying and seeming lack of study even though his grades were always high. Even at those times, there’d always been someone there for him, often a choice of many. They might not have agreed with his decisions but they’d given him moral support. Watching the obvious change in his expression, he saw chagrin flood her face as she gave a choking laugh. ‘That came out as if I’m alone and abandoned. I never felt deprived because there was only the two of us, and I have a very supportive group of friends.’ ‘You live alone?’ Spoken instinctively. He hadn’t meant to ask; it went beyond the bounds he’d set himself. ‘I share a house with two school friends. And you?’ ‘Just me in my place near the beach at Port Noarlunga South.’ ‘Do you surf?’ ‘Best way to get the adrenaline going in the morning, though work takes precedence these days.’ Actually, it was the second best, and the sudden thought of sharing the first with her sent his pulse racing. ‘I tried years ago. Couldn’t see the attraction of getting dumped every time I tried to stand up.’ The sudden sparkle in her eyes belied her words; she’d enjoyed the experience. He imagined her in a sleek wetsuit and his body responded, causing him to shift in his chair. ‘Maybe you need an expert to teach you.’ Had he meant that to sound like an offer? Yes, if she was still around when the weather warmed up. ‘Or better balance.’ A strident voice in increased decibels made both heads swing towards the television. ‘That certainly won’t entice me into their store.’ Jack reached for the remote, pressed off, and said with reluctance, ‘Time I went home.’ He ensured Sam was settled on his bed in the family room while Cassie took the mugs to the kitchen. She seemed reluctant to approach him as he waited, hand on the back doorknob, to say goodbye. Was she regretting the disclosure of personal aspects of her life? ‘Lock up behind me, Cassie. I’ll see you in the morning.’ ‘Goodnight, Jack.’ He closed the door, waited in the cold air until he heard the key turn, then walked to his ute. Cassie blew out a huff of air, ashamed for the awkwardness that had stopped her from going too near as he’d left. Little as it was, she’d revealed more to him than she ever had to anyone she didn’t know well. She waited until he’d driven off then went to her room, turning off lights on the way. After mulling over their conversation, she drifted in and out of restless sleep, trying to make sense of her uncontrollable responses. * * * Early next morning Jack parked at the side of the house and sat contemplating the vegetable patch where he and his contemporaries had spent so many happy hours. Whatever happened, he’d always have those cherished memories. Hearing Sam’s bark alongside, he hopped out and ruffled the dog’s fur. He was rewarded with a frantic wagging of the tail and avid attempts to jump up and lick any flesh Sam’s wet tongue could reach. ‘Easy, boy. I’ve already had my shower.’ Sam dropped and raced to the rear of the vehicle. Following, Jack found Cassie, fingers clenched, staring wide-eyed at his ute as if she’d never seen one before. He walked to her side, checking her line of vision. Couldn’t see anything wrong. ‘Good morning, Cassie. Am I missing something?’ ‘Mel said you had a ute.’ It sounded like an accusation. ‘That’s...’ ‘A silver twin cab, multipurpose utility with accessories. I got a great deal in an end-of-year sale last June. Good for work, family and camping.’ ‘It’s so big. And clean.’ His instant roar of laughter made her blink and her eyes became dreamy, as if recalling a treasured scene. ‘I’ll take that in the spirit I believe you meant. It handles the biggest and heaviest loads I carry, fits five people and goes off-road like a dune buggy.’ He put his hand on the polished tailgate and captured her gaze with his. ‘And I take good care of what’s mine.’ She didn’t stir, didn’t react. Thankfully, she didn’t break eye contact, allowing him to see the flickering of awareness, along with the soft blush on her cheeks. He’d noticed the faint colouring last night, but failed to detect the reason. Undeserved macho pride flared, triggering an impulse to puff out his chest, a desire to caress her silken skin. Sam’s nudge to his leg broke the spell. For now. Sooner rather than later they’d touch again. He wouldn’t deliberately engineer it but if a chance arose he’d take it without hesitation. ‘Better get inside while the rolls are still hot.’ ‘Mel was setting out the coffee mugs when I left. She’s looking forward to your arrival.’ ‘And you?’ He’d bring breakfast every day to earn a sweet smile like the one she gave him now. ‘What do you think? Walking Sam’s given me an appetite, so I hope you brought enough.’ She shivered as a few raindrops fell on her head. ‘Come on, Sam.’ She moved towards the house. The dog hesitated, looked up at him then took off. He grabbed the bags from the front seat, and caught up in time to open the door for Cassie. A hint of peaches hung in the air as she passed him, sweet as the ones from the tree at the bottom of the garden. Mentally telling himself to get a grip, he followed her, nearly tripping on the eager dog who’d stopped to shake off the rain. CHAPTER FIVE (#u28f1b8ac-2adc-597f-8c5e-389ab8ee8466) CASSIE WASHED HER hands before following Jack into the lounge, where Mel was waiting with a pot of freshly brewed coffee. She heard him tease her for insisting they ate from the wrappers. ‘Fast food always tastes better this way. I have great memories of sitting on the beach, eating fish and chips from butcher’s paper and fighting off the seagulls.’ ‘It was always fun, wasn’t it? We’ll do it again when the weather clears. Today it’s indoor chores.’ The tenderness in his voice, and the way his features softened with affection as he spoke to his great-aunt, caused a lump in her throat. Moments like the ones they referred to were a major part of her treasured memories. She stared through the window, remembering the unconditional love she and Mum had shared, so much joy and few regrets. The past couldn’t be changed. Today was the time that mattered, and she had a task for Jack if he was willing. ‘I noticed some of the light fittings are dusty, Jack. Do you have the time to clean them?’ ‘Checking lights comes under downsizing?’ A sceptical look accompanied his gentle dig. ‘Under due diligence and caring, a courtesy for clients. In your line of work, you should know most people don’t notice the grime until they have to replace the bulbs or tubes.’ ‘True. Consider all the house fittings on my list.’ The three of them chatted about the house and garden as they ate, and Cassie learned how Bob had relished teaching the younger generation the tool and gardening crafts that Jack had turned into a profession. That his father had wanted him to study law and become his uncle’s partner didn’t surprise her; his telling her did. Mel’s mobile rang, and she answered. ‘Well, you know I’d love to normally but at the moment...’ Cassie tapped her arm. ‘Hang on, Dot.’ Mel held the phone to her chest. ‘The Mortons have invited me to go with them and visit a friend in Murray Bridge for her birthday.’ ‘Say yes.’ ‘I can’t. It’s overnight and you’re here. We’ve got...’ Конец ознакомительного фрагмента. Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес». Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/bella-bucannon/captivated-by-the-enigmatic-tycoon/?lfrom=688855901) на ЛитРес. Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.