Captivated by the Enigmatic Tycoon Page 13

  She would now be able to see Jack, wind-blown hair, tanned skin and athletic body, any time, wherever she was, wherever he was. She gasped as reality struck and her arm dropped to her side. Hard bands of steel bound her lungs and an iron fist squeezed her heart. He was everything her dream man should be—except she didn’t fit in his world and, with her lack of proven family, never would.

  He noticed the change. Brow furrowed, he strode over, catching her by the shoulders. The intensity of his gaze seared and she couldn’t control her trembling.

  ‘What is it, Cassie? The cold? We’d better go back.’

  ‘No, I...’

  It’s you who makes me tremble and stirs emotion I can’t control.

  Not to be uttered out loud. And she had no chance anyway, as he lowered his head and covered her mouth with his, so gentle at first then deeper as she responded. His arms stroked her back before settling into a firm hold, and hers slid around his waist to complete the embrace.

  The sounds around them muted into the background. His sandalwood cologne mingled with her peach fragrance, creating a unique blend with every inhalation. And the rich coffee taste of him invigorated and enthralled her.

  * * *

  Jack had no sense of place or time. He was lost in the ecstasy of having this woman in his arms, her lips returning his kiss with an ardour that threatened to undermine his control. She roused a stronger desire than he’d ever felt in his life.

  With supreme effort, he raised his head and eased his body away before he embarrassed them both. How would she react if he voiced his preferred way to warm them both?

  Her wistful eyes told him he hadn’t been alone in his fantasy. Prior to his kiss, they’d been clouded with despair, and for some reason he’d felt himself the cause.

  He’d watched her gazing seaward, slowly turning her head to take it all in, an enchanting smile on her face. She’d been fine until she’d snapped a photo of him. He’d seen her chest rise, her lips purse and her arm drop slowly to her side, and instantly moved to find out why. She’d quivered at his touch, and he couldn’t explain why the motion spread up his fingers and throughout his body.

  Kissing her had been an instinctive action and, despite his physical response in a public place, he’d never regret the impulse. He touched her cheek, gently stroked two fingertips on the soft underside of her chin, silky soft, cool to his touch.

  ‘Hold that thought, darling. Hot chocolate and dunking biscuits await us at home.’

  One blink, a tiny huff, and her face cleared. She looked at Sam, lying patiently nearby, his head on his front paws.

  ‘I’ll need Sam’s leash.’ Hearing Jack say his name, the dog trotted over and sat beside them to be harnessed. Cassie unzipped her shoulder bag and held it out. The brush of their fingers proved the heat of their kiss hadn’t waned.

  * * *

  The journey home was quicker, due to the enticement of warmth and hot drinks. They entered through the garage then Jack unlocked the door leading into the house. Cassie was immediately aware of the warmth inside but not so distracted that she didn’t notice his quick glance at the painting. She wondered if he was aware of the tension and release of his fingers on hers.

  He waved her into a laundry with a bathroom at the far end. The equipment was top brand as expected, the lack of any normal clutter astonishing. No cleaning products in sight, no clothes in a basket or piled on the washing machine. As neat and tidy as his garage. Okay, so he had an excellent cleaning service.

  And gets his work ute detailed?

  Without a word, she followed him into a hallway wide enough to allow for the wooden staircase with cupboard space beneath. The walls were painted light tan, and all other surfaces varnished to showcase the natural detail.

  Jack released Sam who, obviously a regular visitor, shot off towards the back of the house.

  ‘I keep bowls and a bed handy for when he stays over,’ Jack explained. ‘Turn around and I’ll take your jacket to hang up.’ Did he deliberately let his fingers glide over her neck, knowing how her body would respond?

  He shrugged his off, and hung both in the closet by the front door. His eyes shone with pride as he gestured to the rooms on either side.

  ‘Welcome to my home, Cassie. Lounge on my left and spare room right; open kitchen and dining, plus family room down the hall. My study, two bedrooms and main bathroom upstairs. Would you like to explore while I make the hot chocolate?’

  Yes, of course she did, very much. Admitting it was a different matter; it would be like invading his privacy. His lips curved and his eyes twinkled brighter at her hesitancy.

  ‘You want to. Remember I’ve got two sisters and numerous female cousins. They all love sticky-beaking in other people’s houses. Enjoy.’ He kissed her cheek and followed Sam.

  Cassie took a step the same way, stopped, and swung towards the stairs. She did like seeing the different ways people furnished and decorated their homes, the personal touches that told of their lives. And this exclusively designed house would reveal his true character.

  She peeked into the bedrooms, unsure which was his. Both were showroom neat with double beds, one blue themed and the other green. The study contained all the fittings of a city office, not even a paperclip out of place. They were all well-furnished and stylish, a tribute to the decorator. However, it was the bathroom that had the wow factor for her.

  The shower was big enough for two, and the deep free-standing bath had a view out of the window, presumably one way only. The marble wall tiles and double basin vanity complemented each other with limited patterning streaks of light grey and red. Everything shone with cleanliness, even the chrome fittings, and there were no toiletries, no toothbrush or holder in sight. She was fascinated by the pristine mirror the length of the vanity.

  The niggling doubt that had begun in his workshop grew with each room she visited. It had nothing to do with the furniture and fittings, which were manly and tasteful. The colours were neutral, and wall decorations consisted of a few bold paintings and family photographs in matching frames. A similar, smaller alpine painting to the one in the garage hung, a deliberate distance from the large wall-mounted television, in direct eyeline of anyone walking into the lounge room.

  Domestic help had to be the answer. Apart from proving he was minimalist in taste with few adornments, nothing seemed out of place. Even the television remote sat neatly in a holder on the coffee table. She felt an irrational desire to pick up and casually toss down the large bright blue cushions on the extra-long burgundy leather sofa.

  This was too organised for a bachelor’s home. She’d lived with two men for nearly three years now, dividing cooking and chores, and had other male friends, single and married. For most of them, housework was something to be avoided if possible, or done with minimum exertion when it could not be put off any longer.

  Moving to the back of the house, she was impressed with the open-plan across its breadth. Glass doors led out onto a covered, paved patio and lawn. Garden beds of colourful shrubs and occasional small ornamental trees ran along the three fence lines. An ideal setting for summer barbecues.

  She ran her fingers over the smooth top of the round dining table, part of a rich reddish-brown wood grain suite. Beautiful. And yet...for a moment, she was lost in a daydream of a cosy home with comfy furniture and normal scattered family possessions.

  Shaking it away, she turned towards the kitchen area. The sight of Jack watching her as he waited by the marbled stone bench top, near two steaming mugs and a plate of biscuits, threw her for a moment. In the silence, as she’d wandered, it had felt as if there could not be a living soul in this immaculate house with no personal stuff lying around.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  HER BREATH CAUGHT in her throat and tiny flares of heat swamped her body as her eyes feasted on his muscular torso and arms, fi
rmly shaped by his polo neck top. Recalling their first meeting and her full scan of his body, the inevitable blush spread up her face, heating her skin.

  ‘Do you actually live here?’ Her hand flew to her mouth to stifle her gasp. What she’d been thinking had slipped out without censorship.

  Jack’s spontaneous laughter made her feel worse.

  ‘I’m sorry—that was rude and...’

  ‘No, you’re right. It is very show-homey, isn’t it? It is, however, practical for the life I lead.’ He grinned. ‘Except for the guys’ pizza and sports watching nights.’

  ‘Men only? That’s sexist,’ she teased, glad he wasn’t offended.

  ‘It would be if it wasn’t the women who declared we should be segregated. They’re welcome to join us any time. So are you.’

  She hadn’t realised she’d moved forward until he reached out and caught her hand, bringing her closer with little effort. His arms enfolded her, giving her little choice but to lay her hands on his chest. There was no doubting the strength and firmness of his muscles under the material. Or the steely intention in his green eyes and her own willingness to comply.

  Her pulse stuttered as he lowered his head. He crushed her against him and she felt his heart pounding. Her own erratic beat throbbed at every pulse point. His mouth settled over hers, and she heard her own sigh of contentment.

  His lips caressed and teased, claimed and possessed. Hers complied and tempted, provoked and soothed. And parted at his request. She heard his sharp intake of air, took one of her own and inhaled his unique aroma and the salty smell of the sea.

  His tongue tangled with hers, stroked the soft flesh and aroused a longing for unknown pleasures that could be hers if she surrendered. Digging her fingernails into his shoulders, she raised up onto her toes and arched her back. The warning bells ringing in her head were ignored.

  Suddenly his lips broke free, his forehead rested on hers and his chest heaved. She couldn’t breathe, her knees were buckling, and his strong embrace was the only reason she hadn’t sunk to the floor.

  ‘Cassie—’ rough as if he’d swallowed sandpaper ‘—I want you. More than I’ve ever wanted anyone before.’

  He traced trembling fingers down her cheek, and she sucked in a shaky breath. Her touch on his jaw evoked a convulsion of his Adam’s apple.

  ‘I swore I wouldn’t let kissing you get out of hand this morning. Not when I have to leave in an hour.’

  She jerked back, her stomach clenching. He’d driven her to the brink of surrender, and now he wanted to stop? She tried to push him away but he stood solid, arms firm around her, dark green eyes locked with hers.

  ‘Having you near makes me forget everything else. I wanted to spend time with you, meant to keep it friendly. The way you looked at me made it impossible not to kiss you. I swear I didn’t mean to lose control.’

  His eyes pleaded for her to understand. How could she not when she’d been as uninhibited as him?

  ‘You weren’t alone,’ she replied, struggling to keep her voice from breaking.

  ‘Oh, darling, I know that.’ He pressed a quick kiss on her brow. ‘When we make love, I want time to hold and caress you, make every moment pleasurable with no time restraints.’

  His hands slid over her hips then stilled. She felt his shoulders lift as he inhaled, felt his warm breath on her skin as they fell.

  He wanted her. No promises of undying devotion, or happy ever after. Yet not in the quick-romp-under-the-sheets way either. She wanted him, more than she’d ever known it was possible to desire a man. She so wished he’d carried her to his bedroom and taken her now, while she was consumed with heat and longing.

  By tonight common sense and logic would have resurfaced, and they’d be meeting in Mel’s home. She’d be governed by her rules of propriety. He’d respect her wishes and might have realised staying platonic was best for them both.

  With deliberate care, she steadied her breathing and stepped back, hoping her eyes didn’t betray her regret. His arms fell to his sides, letting her go, the remorse in his eyes blatant and unrepentant.

  ‘Our drinks are getting cold.’ Her rasping voice gave her away but he quirked a smile and reached for the mugs.

  ‘Let’s go into the lounge. You bring the biscuits?’

  Cassie led the way, pummelling one of those big bold cushions before settling into it. Jack sat an arm’s length away and held out her drink.

  ‘Try a dunker, and tell me what you think.’

  ‘Dunker?’ She’d thought they were shortbread, now realised they were firmer, less crumbly. Her still-raised pulse blipped as he flashed his playful smile.

  ‘Have to be dunked into a hot drink. Minimum five seconds. It’s the rule.’

  She did as he said and the biscuit melted in her mouth with a burst of unique flavour. A drink of the hot chocolate straight after had her smiling with delight.

  ‘No way these came in a packet,’ she stated. ‘Have to be Mel’s.’

  His eyebrows shot up and he feigned an insulted expression. ‘Really?’

  ‘I can tell the diff... Oh.’

  * * *

  Jack loved her confusion, loved the gentle blush that coloured her skin, and fought the urge to reach out to touch and reassure.

  ‘You made them? You cook?’

  ‘Can you imagine any child who spent time with Mel not becoming proficient in the kitchen? Come back tonight and I’ll prove it.’

  His offer surprised him, as did the warm glow of anticipation in his stomach. Followed by a twinge of apprehension. Going to her would be safer, more prudent. His rules of no involvement were changing. He was changing and, inexplicably, he wasn’t sorry.

  She looked down at the biscuit and mug she held, her top lip covered the bottom lip then drew back. He dunked, bit, drank and waited.

  She finally raised her head. ‘Yes. What’s your favourite colour?’

  What the heck? He watched her lips curve and her eyes sparkle. And understood.

  ‘Don’t have one. Yours?’

  ‘Blue or red for clothes, neutral and red for décor, silver for cars.’

  ‘Yours is blue?’

  ‘I got a good deal. Favourite male singer?’

  By the time she left, they’d joked, laughed and learnt a lot of random facts about each other. As he watched her drive away, he was acutely aware that it was all surface detail. Deeper feelings and emotions had been avoided.

  * * *

  Cassie picked at the sleeves of the V-neck jumper she wore, uncertain if it was suitable for...for what? Seduction on a winter’s evening? This was dinner at his house, and he’d be bringing her home after.

  She stood up and paced, ran her hands down her thighs and huffed out a breath. Sucked in a deeper one at the sound of his ute.

  It was dinner at his house. Nothing more, unless she wanted it to be. The sensible side of her brain advised caution. Her body and heart clamoured yes, yes. Yes. Regret for things not done could be more powerful than for bad decisions taken.

  Common sense flew off with the wind when she met Jack at the corner of the house. She ran into his open arms, and was lifted onto his chest. Tangling her fingers into his hair, she gave herself up to the magic his lips wove as they covered her mouth in a tender kiss.

  She pressed closer, melting inside, and exulted in the animal growl rising in his throat. It was no longer if but when they’d make love. Preferably sooner, as the time limit of their relationship was unknown.

  The shudder he gave as he broke the kiss and set her on her feet excited her. She’d been the cause, a delicious fact to remember in the future.

  ‘Temptress. Let’s go before I...’

  He left the rest of the sentence unsaid and she tingled at the images her imagination created.

  ‘You’d
better say hello to Sam before we lock up.’

  His eyes darkened and he spoke slower and softer than normal, betraying stress she hadn’t expected.

  ‘You’re leaving him here?’

  ‘I’ll be coming home.’

  Please accept my decision without question.

  For a moment, she thought he’d argue but he let it go with a curt nod.

  Studying him as he drove, she became aware of a vague sense that something didn’t gel. He wore the same clothes as this morning, but that wasn’t it.

  ‘Problem, Cassie? You look perplexed.’ He flicked her a quick glance.

  ‘I’m not sure.’

  He was heart-stoppingly cowboy handsome—macho features, hypnotic green eyes and strong jaw. His jaw?

  ‘Did you go home before picking me up?’

  ‘No, why?’

  That first day at Mel’s he’d been stubbled. She wasn’t sure about other occasions but he definitely hadn’t been any time they’d kissed.

  ‘You’ve shaved.’

  ‘Glad you noticed. Check the glovebox.’

  Would she ever be immune from his special chuckle? She checked, and pulled out a rechargeable shaver.

  ‘I’ve used it more in the last two weeks than the previous few months. Wanna guess why or who for?’

  Warmed by the inner glow his words evoked, she broke road rules and laid her hand on his thigh. Felt him tense and his muscle contract. For a fleeting moment, his hand covered hers then returned to the wheel.

  Jack gritted his teeth, kept his mind on the road and tried not to think about the heat spreading from Cassie’s hand. His chest felt tight and his pulse was faster than the ute’s speedo. Legally, he ought to ask her to remove her hold but the words stuck in his throat. Wouldn’t make a difference; its mark would last longer than the trip home.

  He knew she was nervous. Her tension filled the cabin but this wasn’t the time or place to tell her she had only committed to dinner with him. When they were face to face, he’d convince her that when they made love wasn’t as important as her not having a skerrick of doubt it was right for them.