CHAPTER FIVE
THEY went through to the lounge room.
To talk.
Jack still couldn’t believe he was doing this, couldn’t believe he’d pulled back from the most sensational kiss he’d ever known. He’d been a lost man, on the very brink of taking an Australian federal senator. Right there. In the kitchen.
Unless he was terribly mistaken, she’d been as swept away as he was. In another five seconds they might have been too lost in passion to stop.
Now, it was hard to be grateful for the inner voice that had urged him to remember why Kate Burton had sent Lizzie Green to Savannah.
She’d wanted Lizzie to be safe. Safe. In his care. She was in some kind of trouble and she’d been placed under his protection. He knew zero about her private life. Which meant he had no choice but to cool his heels, and his ardour, until he’d extracted satisfactory answers.
So, yeah. He’d let Lizzie talk, and he’d listen, and then he’d kiss her senseless.
As Lizzie took a seat in Jack’s lounge room, she was sure she’d never felt more shaken or self-conscious. She was, of course, grateful for this reprieve. If she hadn’t stopped Jack, she would have broken every single one of her relationship rules. But she felt bereft now, rather than thankful.
She also felt terribly exposed.
From the moment she’d decided to be a single mum, she’d been so careful to hold men at bay. Relationships simply weren’t worth the pain.
Tonight, Jack Lewis had ripped through her defences. From the very first touch of his lips she’d been shameless, and even though she’d stopped him, she was certain he knew exactly how needy she was. Even though she was sitting primly with her ankles crossed, he could probably guess that he only had to reach out and touch her and she’d be scrambling down the sofa and into his arms.
Oh, for heaven’s sake, get rid of those thoughts. Get over it.
At least Jack didn’t ply her with questions the minute they were seated. Lizzie didn’t want to discuss the men or lack of men in her life and she was grateful for the chance to sit in the lamplight, nursing a mug of peppermint tea while she gathered her wits. She had to work out how to warn Jack off, and, as they were still going to be living together, it had to be done nicely.
A practised tactician, she took the roundabout route. ‘The silence out here is really quite amazing,’ she said. ‘I found it strange at first. In my apartment in Brisbane there’s constant background noise—traffic, building construction, roadwork. Sirens blaring day and night.’
‘I suppose you get used to the noise and you don’t even hear it after a while.’
‘That’s true.’ Lizzie turned to Jack. ‘Have you spent much time in the city?’
He answered with a shake of his head, then he smiled. ‘But I do enjoy the big smoke, and when I get there I make the most of it.’
‘I suppose you paint the town red?’
His smile took a wicked tilt. ‘Wouldn’t you like to know?’
Actually, yes, Lizzie thought, dismayed. She was unbearably curious about the fun Jack got up to in the city, but no way would she admit it.
Jack looked annoyingly at ease now, sprawled casually at his end of the sofa, long legs loose and relaxed, his body angled Lizzie’s way.
He was even able to smile. ‘OK. You were going to tell me about the men in your life. Where would you like to start?’
‘Actually, I don’t think we should even begin, Jack. We should just accept that the kiss was a mistake and—’
‘That’s rubbish, Lizzie, and you know it.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘The kiss was fantastic and we’re going to do it again.’ Jack’s eyes flashed emerald fire. ‘Unless you have a damn good reason why we shouldn’t.’
Lizzie looked away, afraid that she might blush.
‘For example,’ Jack said, ‘it would be helpful to know if there’s a boyfriend back in Canberra, or Brisbane, or wherever.’
After too long, she admitted softly, ‘There’s no one.’
‘You’re sure?’
‘Of course I’m sure. It’s not the kind of thing I’d forget. I—I haven’t been in a relationship for some time.’
Surely Jack didn’t need to know about Mitch, the first man who’d broken her heart, or about Toby, her banker lover who’d leaked their story to the press and almost finished her career?
She shot Jack a sharp glance. ‘The question works both ways, Jack. What about you? Do you have a girlfriend?’ She held her breath, realising that she was far too interested in his answer.
‘There’s no one with a claim on me,’ he said quietly.
It wasn’t quite the unambiguous answer she would have preferred.
After a small silence, he said, ‘So if there’s no man in your life, what’s the problem, Lizzie?’
She hesitated. After kissing him into oblivion, it wasn’t going to be easy to explain that she didn’t want a relationship.
‘You’ve come here to get away from something, haven’t you?’ he said.
‘Well, yes,’ she admitted, grateful for the lead. ‘Mostly, I wanted to keep away from journalists.’
‘Any special reason? I thought politicians thrived on publicity.’
Of course there was a special reason, but Lizzie still baulked at telling Jack about her baby. She tried to picture sharing her news, going through the involved explanation and her reasons for choosing the sperm-donor option.
She had no idea how Jack would react. For some people, the whole idea of a single woman choosing an anonymous donor was too new, too confronting. Telling anyone about her pregnancy was like letting a genie out of a bottle. She never knew what kind of reaction she would get, but once it was out, it was impossible to cram it back. The damage was done.
Instead, she said, ‘Unfortunately, journalists always target female politicians.’
‘Especially the photogenic ones,’ Jack suggested dryly.
Lizzie nodded. ‘I’m afraid I’ve been called a bimbo once too often. It’s beyond annoying. It doesn’t matter how hard, or how seriously I take my job, journalists take one look at me and decide my head’s full of chiffon and sequins.’
He smiled in sympathy. ‘So how did you get into politics in the first place? Was it really like you said? Something you sort of fell into?’
‘Well…yes. It was…more or less.’
‘Like Alice down the rabbit hole?’
She couldn’t help smiling. ‘Some people do say the PM looks like the Cheshire cat, but my story isn’t nearly as interesting as Alice’s.’
‘I’m interested.’ Jack’s eyes burned, as if challenging her.
Lizzie squirmed. Any explanation would involve talking about Mitch. Then again, if Jack understood more about her, he might keep his distance.
‘I think it started when I was very young,’ she said. ‘Way back when I was at school in Monta Correnti. My best friend’s father was the mayor, and I used to go and play at Gianna’s house. Her father wasn’t home very often, but when he was, he was always kind and so much fun. Never too busy to talk to us.’
Dipping her head, Lizzie breathed in the scent of her peppermint tea. ‘And I’d always hear grown-ups saying how wonderful Gianna’s father was because he fixed our town’s water and sewers, and helped the old people. The whole town loved him. I think he was probably my first inspiration.’
‘But you chose Australian politics,’ Jack said.
‘Yes. When I started at Sydney uni, I was excited to discover how certain movements and certain ways of thinking could positively affect the world. I was full of noble aims—wanting to help people, to make the world a better place, to represent neglected viewpoints.’
She gave a self-conscious laugh. ‘Then I fell madly in love with a politician.’
The mild amusement in Jack’s eyes vanished. ‘Who was he?’
Lizzie took another sip of tea. ‘Have you heard of Mitchell MacCallum?’
‘Of course.’ Jack l
ooked distinctly shocked. ‘Don’t tell me he was the one?’
Lizzie nodded. Even now, after all this time, saying Mitch’s name out loud sent a chill chasing down her spine.
An awkward silence fell over the room, and Jack sat very still, frowning. She could almost see his mind working, thinking back through everything he’d heard and read about Mitchell MacCullum.
‘This was well before the scandal,’ she said.
‘I should hope so,’ he replied grimly.
So Jack had a very low opinion of Mitch. Lizzie wasn’t surprised. Five years ago, the media had left little room for sympathy when they had exposed Mitch. He’d been married for years by then, and he’d been caught using his ministerial expense account to keep a mistress in a penthouse on Sydney Harbour.
Jack said tightly, ‘Tell me more about MacCallum.’
She hesitated, but now that she’d started she might as well get it over with, so she took a deep breath and dived in. ‘Mitch and I were both at Sydney University. Actually, we were housemates. There were five of us, sharing a big, old, tumbledown house in Balmain. He was a couple of years ahead of me, studying political science and economics. He was brilliant and charismatic, and I suppose you could say I became a kind of disciple.’
‘A disciple who slept with the prophet.’
‘Eventually.’ A hot blush burned her cheeks. ‘At first I simply spent hours in the university refectory, or in coffee bars listening to Mitch talk. He was incredibly articulate about human rights and international relations, and he championed all kinds of student causes. He was head of the student union, and a wonderful debater, so he was very easy to listen to.’
Jack looked as if he was going to say something, but changed his mind. He simply offered a thoughtful nod, like a journalist in a TV interview, and waited for her to continue with her story.
‘After that, I started going to political rallies with Mitch. It all seemed very intellectual and idealistic and exciting, and when he graduated and decided to stand for parliament, I joined his campaign team. I spent every spare moment painting banners and putting up posters, doing clerical work, and running errands.’
‘I dare say MacCallum was incredibly appreciative of your efforts.’
The hard glitter in Jack’s eyes surprised Lizzie. Clearly, he disliked Mitch intensely.
‘So what happened after he was elected?’
‘I was given a job on his staff,’ she said quietly.
‘I’m sure you’d earned it.’
Jack wasn’t referring to her help with the campaign, but Lizzie ignored the dig. ‘We were working on really interesting and worthwhile programmes, and Mitch was invited to all kinds of receptions and charity balls. I’d never had such a busy social life.’
‘And I suppose you’d moved out of the student share house by this time.’
‘Yes.’ Lizzie took a sip of her cooling tea as she remembered the day she and Mitch had moved into their own apartment. She’d been so thrilled. It had felt like a public announcement that she was Mitchell MacCallum’s girlfriend.
Of course, she’d been desperately in love, and she’d expected that Mitch would propose to her at any moment, but there was no way she would share that dream with Jack.
She said, simply, ‘I lived with him for about three months, and then—’ she straightened her shoulders, determined not to let Jack see that any of this bothered her after all this time ‘—Mitch’s party leaders decided that he needed a more settled image. They wanted him to marry.’
Jack frowned. ‘So? Why didn’t you marry him?’
‘I wasn’t given the opportunity.’ She forced an extra-bright smile. ‘Mitch married Amanda Leigh, the daughter of a former state governor. She came from one of Melbourne’s most influential families, you see, so she had fabulous links to the old-school-tie network.’
‘So, MacCallum showed his true colours.’ Again, Jack spoke with clear distaste.
But then all the hardness fell out of his face. ‘Lizzie,’ he said, watching her intently. ‘I can’t believe you let him treat you like that.’
‘It wasn’t a matter of letting him. He did it on the sly. I went home to Italy to spend Christmas with my family and by the time I got back it was a fait accompli. My supposed boyfriend was married. He laughed it off, said we both knew there wasn’t a future for us. But, of course, I’d had this silly idea—’
She bit down hard on her lip to stop herself from giving way to self-pity. ‘Anyway,’ she said quickly. ‘I’ve gone off track. I was supposed to be telling you how I ended up in the senate.’
Her tea was stone cold by now, but she downed the last of it and set the mug on the coffee table. ‘I resigned from Mitch’s staff. I couldn’t stay there—it would have been too awkward. But the party hierarchy didn’t want to lose a hard worker. There was a vacancy on the senate ticket and they wanted a youthful candidate, preferably female.’
Lizzie shrugged. ‘It was time to stop feeling sorry for myself, and I could see this was a chance to do something to help others, so I said I’d give it a go. And I found myself elected.’
‘And you’ve been there ever since.’
‘It becomes a way of life.’
Jack was frowning again. ‘What does that mean? Are you planning to stay there for ever?’
‘The voters may not want me there for ever.’ She forced a laugh. ‘I certainly don’t want to be an old lady senator.’
Ever since he’d started talking about the future, a worried shadow had lingered in Jack’s eyes. Lizzie wondered what was bothering him. She thought about his kiss, and could still feel the tummy-tingling pleasure of his lips on her skin, the tantalising intimacy of his tongue. His thrilling mix of fire and tenderness.
It was a shock to realise that in a matter of days he’d penetrated the tough outer armour she’d spent so long building. For a brief moment, he’d exposed her softer centre. But surely he understood their kiss couldn’t lead to anything serious?
She should make that clear. Now.
Before she could speak, however, Jack rose. ‘You’re looking pale and tired.’
Lizzie wasn’t surprised. She felt emotionally drained and physically exhausted.
‘You’d better get to bed.’ To her surprise, Jack came towards her, bent low and kissed her cheek, just as a brother might. ‘Goodnight.’
Puzzled, she watched him leave the room.
When they’d started this conversation, Jack had shown every intention of taking up where their passionate kiss had left off, but she’d achieved her goal. Her story about Mitch had been enough to make him think twice.
She knew she should be pleased and relieved. By walking away from their situation, Jack had saved her the trouble of explaining about the baby.
To Lizzie’s annoyance, she couldn’t feel grateful. She felt confused. And just a little sad.
She went back to her room and tried to read, but thoughts of Jack kept intruding, shattering her concentration.
The kiss loomed large, of course, and each time she struggled to fight off the memories.
She was off men. She was only here for a short time, focusing on being a mum. The last thing she’d expected or needed was a potential boyfriend in the outback.
It was all rather distressing. To centre herself once more, she leafed through her favourite book about single pregnancy, about mothers who’d met and conquered the challenges of raising their babies on their own. She lingered over the beautiful photos—even the first startling photo of an attractive blonde lawyer giving birth.
Lizzie viewed childbirth with a mixture of fascination, incredulity and awe. Right now, it was still hard to believe that it was actually going to happen to her.
She moved quickly on to other, more reassuring pictures—a mother breastfeeding her baby, another woman laughing as she bathed a chubby baby boy. There was a mother sitting cross-legged on the lounge-room floor, playing with blocks with her curly-headed toddler. Another mother pushed a pram through a park strewn
with autumn leaves.
The very last photo was of a single mum with twins.
Twins. Now that was a scary thought. Lizzie always skipped quickly past this page. There were twins in her family, but she couldn’t possibly imagine being the mother of twins. It would be too difficult to juggle a career and two babies without the support of a partner.
She lay awake for hours trying not to worry about that.
Jack rose at dawn and went straight to the horse paddock. Within minutes, he was mounted on Archer, a long-legged grey, and together they took off at a thundering gallop across the mist-wreathed plains.
It was good to be outdoors at this early hour. Archer was sure-footed, the autumn morning was cool and crisp, and heavy dew had dampened the earth, so the dust was at a minimum.
From as far back as he could remember Jack had loved riding, and, with any luck, this morning’s long, hard gallop would knock the tension out of his muscles, and provide him with the necessary space and distance to think with a clear head.
He had to decide how he was going to handle the crazy situation he found himself in now—infatuated, after just one kiss, with a woman who couldn’t be more wrong for him.
When Lizzie arrived in the kitchen for breakfast, her first surprise was a cleared table. All the mess was gone and instead there was a second surprise. A note propped against the teapot.
I’ve gone for a ride, so don’t wait for me. Help yourself to breakfast. I’ll catch you later.
Jack.
Her first reaction was disappointment. She’d spent far too much time last night trying to stop thinking about him. She’d come to breakfast, not sure what to expect, but determined to put last night’s kiss out of her thoughts and to carry on as if it hadn’t happened. Nevertheless, she’d been filled with fluttery anticipation.
It was silly, but she’d actually been wondering if he might have another job for her. She’d even practised asking super-casually…I don’t suppose you need a hand today, Jack? Sing out, if there’s any odd job you need help with.
Executive: Expecting Tiny Twins Page 7
