Captivated by the Enigmatic Tycoon

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Captivated by the Enigmatic Tycoon Page 7

by Bella Bucannon


  She laughed, saw his eyes flash, and her heart flipped at the message they conveyed, causing her to blurt out the first words that came to mind.

  ‘You look fit and toned. Do you exercise regularly?’

  His lips curled into a knowing smile and heat flooded her cheeks. She’d admitted to noticing his physique. His light chuckle sent tingles down her spine and ignited heat coils in her belly. If she closed her eyes she’d be able to count the Outback stars in the image the sound generated. She fought the impulse, keeping them locked with his amused gaze.

  ‘I have a few weights at home and I swim and surf most of the year. Plus our frequent family picnic or barbecue get-togethers always include team games resulting in friendly riots. Never missed unless I’m interstate.’

  That pang hit again. Family gatherings involved genuine hugs, kisses and lots of fun and laughter. She’d had those with Mum and although her friends’ families had been sincere in their affections, it just wasn’t quite the same as actually being related.

  ‘Cassie?’

  She blinked, looked across the table into caring green eyes and came back to the moment.

  ‘I’m trying to picture a gathering of all the close relations Mel says you have. How do you keep track of birthdays and anniversaries?’

  He shrugged and the sticky moment passed. ‘Computer calendar, and a great-aunt who never forgets and keeps everyone up to date.’

  The waitress returned with a bottle of Chardonnay, and he nodded his approval.

  ‘That’s fine, thank you, no need for tasting.’

  Once the bottle was in the ice bucket stand and they were alone, he raised his glass and quirked an eyebrow.

  ‘Any special toast you’d like to drink to?’

  ‘To Mel, enjoying the fun of discovering forgotten treasured mementoes, and staying in the home where she’s been so happy for many more years.’

  * * *

  Jack froze. He couldn’t think of anything better, though having Cassie in his arms again came close. This time ending with a kiss he wouldn’t be pulling back from as he had this morning.

  He was surprised to see the liquid in his glass rippling from the trembling of his hand. Cassie’s was steady as a rock as she completed the ritual then sipped her wine. Watching the slight movement in her throat, he imagined her pulse accelerating under his lips as he pressed them to her delicate skin. The tip of her tongue licked a stray drop of wine from her lower lip and his pulse shot to the sky.

  Get to know her, huh.

  Forget life and history. He wanted to taste the sweetness of a fervent kiss, feel her yield to his caressing hands. Memorise her uninhibited sounds as they made love.

  He gulped a mouthful of wine, silently sending an apology to the maker for the insult. By focusing on the crisp cool flavour as it slid down his throat, he regained some inner semblance of restraint.

  ‘Would you rather have a beer?’ Cassie’s concerned tone deepened his guilt.

  ‘No, forgive my lapse in manners. Wine is my preferred choice when dining with a beautiful woman.’

  Her burst of natural laughter undid the calming effort in one second flat. Every cell in his body responded to her musical delight.

  ‘That, Jackson Randell, is an old cliché unworthy of a modern gentleman.’

  Her imitation of his aunt left him both flabbergasted and elated. His airway seized up, immobilised by a clear view of her slender neck as she proudly lifted her chin, the sparkle in her eyes and the unintended invitation of her parted lips.

  This teasing aspect of her nature was a revelation, one he’d like to explore at leisure. And encourage every chance he got. When he finally managed to draw breath, he pointed his finger at her and feigned a sombre expression.

  ‘The reason they are clichés is because they are so often true.’

  For a split second he saw the sparkle dim. Before he could confirm it, she broke eye contact as the waitress appeared with bread rolls.

  Jack could see the slight furrow of her brow. It seemed she didn’t agree with or hadn’t liked his last remark. He’d meant it as light-hearted banter. Had she taken it as flirting?

  Her face lit up as she selected a roll for her side plate. ‘Ooh, they’re warm and smell fresh baked. And thank you for the compliment.’

  ‘Your expression disagreed.’

  ‘A flashback from the past. I once dated someone who frequently quoted for effect without feeling the sentiment. For me sincerity is as important as honesty.’

  ‘If I say it, I mean it.’ His eyes were drawn to her neat white teeth as she bit into her roll, and he felt a surge of desire as the tip of her tongue licked away a few stray crumbs from her tempting lips.

  ‘Mmm, a small touch yet it makes the meal special.’

  Struggling for normality, he leant back in his seat. ‘Have you always lived in Adelaide?’ He immediately regretted his brusque tone.

  Cassie stopped chewing, forced herself to swallow. The start of the get-to-know-you quiz.

  Was she ready? Would she ever be with this charismatic man who could charm secrets from a clam? She met his steady gaze, surprised to see a shade of remorse in the usually clear green eyes.

  ‘Yes. I enjoyed school and have friendships that date back to my first year in secondary. They, and Mum’s friends, were my lifeline when her cancer was diagnosed. Without them, I’d have been lost.’

  His brow creased and his eyes narrowed as if he found difficulty in visualising life without all his relatives. ‘And there’s really no other family?’

  ‘Mum’s sister lived overseas and we lost contact years ago.’ Not the full answer. Not a lie.

  ‘Wanna share mine? There’s a few I’ll willingly farm off at times.’

  The mood lightened with his teasing remark. Their laughter mingled and it was the nicest sound she’d heard in a long time, sparking a warm glow in her abdomen that radiated to her fingertips and toes.

  ‘Do I get to choose?’

  ‘Only from the ones I select.’ The inflection in his tone and the gleam in his eyes suggested none would be young, handsome males.

  The arrival of their entrées, chicken wings with small side salad for her and ravioli for him, deferred talk for the moment. When the waitress reached for the wine to top their glasses up, Jack drank the remainder in his before nodding and allowing her to proceed.

  Cassie’s perplexity must have shown because Jack explained his action.

  ‘If it’s refilled from empty I can keep track of how much I drink. I don’t claim to have always been that smart but I’ve never driven if there’s the slightest chance I might be over the limit. Learnt an early lesson.’

  ‘You had an accident?’

  ‘A close call when a car shot out at speed in front of my cousin on our way home after pizza dinner out with friends. He’d had two beers spaced through the evening. Even one more might have slowed his reactions and it could have been a lot worse.’

  Her fingers stilled on her cutlery. She froze, wanting to cover her ears and not hear the rest.

  ‘John swung left and the guy veered enough to sideswipe the bonnet and spin us round. Apart from almost writing off both cars, the other driver spent a week in hospital, and lost his licence for a year. We four ended up with minor injuries and bruises. It was... Cassie?’

  When she didn’t react, he reached over to cover her hand with his. She started, blinked and gave a quick shake of her head.

  ‘You’ve gone pale. Have I stirred up a bad memory? You should have stopped me.’

  She stared at his worried expression for a moment then down at their joined hands and took a shuddering breath.

  ‘No, I imagined you... A silly notion. I’m fine, really.’

  He trailed his fingers along hers as he withdrew his hand, as if r
eluctant to break the physical connection. She regretted the loss of his comforting touch, almost twisted her hand to keep it there. Almost.

  Picking up her knife and fork, she concentrated on her food. She hadn’t expected the answer to her casual question to have such a profound effect on her. As he’d spoken, images sprang into her mind—Jack helpless as the car bore down on them. Jack hurt and bleeding, in pain, waiting for help.

  Why had her imagination suddenly burst into full force? Why not when she’d struggled to write essays for her English classes? And why had she ordered chicken wings, which were so awkward and messy to eat with cutlery?

  ‘Use your fingers, Cassie. It’s allowed.’

  Her head jerked up and her heart skipped more than a beat at the playful look in his eyes and his warm smile. She stole a furtive glance around the room. No one was looking their way except the waitress returning with a finger bowl of warm water.

  Reassured, she chose a wing and took a bite. It was delicious and spicy, tingling her tastebuds. If the main was as flavoursome, and they avoided controversial subjects, she’d have no regrets at the end of the evening.

  * * *

  Jack watched Cassie’s colour return, wished she’d finished her sentence. It didn’t take much nous to work it out, though. He wavered between liking the rush of satisfaction that she’d cared about him being injured, and concern at the knowledge she might.

  ‘Have you travelled much, Cassie?’

  Her smile proved he’d chosen an acceptable topic. You couldn’t get more uncontroversial than holidays, and people’s choices revealed a lot more than they realised.

  ‘The eastern states during school or work breaks. One trip to New Zealand with Mum and another with two friends for a wedding. We hired a car and stayed for two weeks. I’d love to travel through Greece and Italy.’

  ‘Not the bright lights and night life of London or New York?’

  She had his total concentration; his elbows were on the table, fingers locked and his chin resting on his thumbs. Everyone else in the room faded, their voices becoming a muted background hum.

  ‘To me they’re pretty much like any capital city in Australia, apart from iconic features. It won’t happen often, so I want to experience something new and completely different to what I’d find here.’

  ‘True, you...’ He straightened up as a group of new arrivals were ushered past their table.

  Cassie spoke before he could continue. ‘This place is a good example, another reason for avoiding popular western cities. Why fly hundreds of miles to eat familiar meals in similar establishments to those in your own suburbs? If I’m going to spend big money on air fares and accommodation I want to try true local cuisine.’

  ‘I agree. When you do, remember that in many places abroad local cuisine is tailored to suit western palates.’

  He’d bet the value of his treasured ute she didn’t realise how much her body language and expressive eyes revealed.

  The sharp wrench to his gut earlier when he’d called her out of her daydream added to his growing certainty that she still mourned the loss of her mother. In the seconds she’d taken to blink and refocus, he’d seen deep-seated sorrow in her lovely brown eyes.

  Don’t go soft. His main objective was to protect Mel. Involvement with the beguiling woman facing him across the table could mean pain for any one of the three.

  She dipped her fingers in the bowl, wiped them on her serviette then pushed her plate to the side. Leaning forward, arms on the table, she gave him a smile that generated a heatwave in his stomach. It was like hot coffee on a cold morning, hitting the spot then spreading throughout the body. A perfect awakening any morning.

  ‘I take it the wings and salad were as tasty as they looked.’

  ‘The best I’ve had for ages.’ After sipping her wine, she tilted her head, just a tad, a very beguiling action.

  ‘Do you enjoy gardening or is it a labour of love for Mel? The lawns and vegetable plots are large for a city dwelling.’

  Shoot, she was good. If he didn’t get his act together, she’d be the one going home with all the knowledge and he’d have learnt little about her.

  ‘It’s part of the maintenance side of my business, which I admit I find therapeutic. There’s also the added bonus of fresh harvested fruit and veggies—beats store bought any day. As kids we grew up picking and eating whatever was ripe at the time, and I’m especially partial to peaches, oranges and apricots.’ And since yesterday their scent on soft pink-tinged skin.

  ‘You don’t grow your own?’

  ‘No, out back I have a small lawn and border; the front’s landscaped with shrubs and stones. How about you?’

  ‘We have miniature lemon, apricot and mandarin trees, plus whatever anyone gets the whim to plant in the cleared area.’ She looked behind him. ‘Here come our mains. Let’s see if their vegetables taste as good as our home grown.’

  They chatted about movies, favourite Australian tourist spots they’d visited and Jack’s parents’ home about twenty kilometres from Brisbane’s city centre. He made her laugh with tales of trekking to the top end of Queensland.

  * * *

  Cassie didn’t want the meal to end. Jack had sampled her barramundi and given her a taste of his steak. Sumptuous setting, scrumptious meal. Charming and attentive company.

  After a meticulous perusal of the dessert menu, she laid it on the table with a heartfelt sigh. ‘They all sound scrumptious, and if I wasn’t so full I’d be tempted to try one.’

  ‘Maybe next time. Would you like to go for a walk and have coffee?’

  Her heartbeat fluttered and she tingled all over. He wanted to extend the evening, and repeat their shared experience some time. Keeping her voice normal and level took effort.

  ‘Hot chocolate would be a great way to round off the evening.’

  * * *

  Cassie more than liked the way Jack helped her into her jacket. The protective arm he put around her as they crossed the street somehow became a handhold that felt warm and protective. They strolled along, checking every open venue. Finally selected a quiet café near the hill leading down to the city.

  She hid a grin when he asked for extra marshmallows in her hot chocolate and ordered black tea for himself, claiming her choice was too sweet for him. They took a table for two by the window and watched the passing parade of people enjoying a night out.

  Hers was coming to an end and she’d have to face the crucial decision. If he tried to kiss her when he took her home, did she let him? Did she want him to? What if he made no attempt, just said a polite goodnight? That last thought was surprisingly depressing.

  ‘They must be freezing.’ Jack’s voice held a hint of amusement as he stared through the glass at three girls in form-fitting tops, short skirts and ultra high-heeled shoes. Stunningly made-up, they drew the attention of every male they passed as they headed for one of the popular night spots in the area.

  Cassie laughed. ‘At that age you’re immune to the weather, especially when you’re about to enter a room full of eager, available young men.’

  She envied them their confidence and poise, and wished them success in their search for their special man. Hers was still out there somewhere, hopefully looking for her.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  JACK SEEMED LOST in thought on the drive home, or perhaps he’d run out of conversation. Her gaze kept straying to his hands on the wheel, noting their firm competent control. Her stomach clenched as she recalled his long, strong fingers when he’d assisted her into and out of this vehicle, and on her waist as they’d danced. Her palm tingled at the recollection of his workman’s palm on her lotion-smoothed soft skin as he’d clasped their joined hands to his chest.

  As the familiar music and lyrics played in her mind, she closed her eyes and leant back onto the headrest.
The quiet rhythm of the ute’s engine seemed to be part of the orchestral sound.

  ‘Tired, Cassie?’ Jack’s resonant voice penetrated her dreamy haze.

  By the time she languidly opened her eyes, his head was facing forward. She caught back the sigh that rose in her throat at his striking profile.

  ‘A little. Thank you for inviting me out tonight, Jack. I’m glad I accepted.’

  ‘My pleasure. I guess you’ll be sleeping in tomorrow.’ She heard a hitch in his voice, a growing edginess as he spoke, and couldn’t think of a reason.

  ‘Maybe. I’ll have to do the chores I’d planned for Friday.’

  ‘Leave them. Treat it as a bonus day and relax. Do something for yourself that you’ve been putting off. When’s your next job?’

  ‘Monday, all next week over near the plaza. A ten-minute drive from home.’

  * * *

  Jack’s fingers involuntarily tightened on the wheel. Growling internally, he forced them to relax. They’d met about thirty hours ago; no way should he be affected by the prospect of not seeing her for a week.

  ‘You’ll be at Mel’s on Friday?’ They were a few blocks from her home, not much time left to talk.

  ‘Yes, to finalise what we’ve done and arrange another session if she still wants to proceed. Having two days to think it over might have made her reconsider. Even staggered full clean-outs can be daunting.’

  ‘Much as I hate any reminder that she’s getting older, I have to concede it will ease her mind. Won’t stop the idea of her not being in that house tearing me apart.’

  ‘She’ll be around for a long time yet, Jack.’

  In his peripheral vision he saw her hand lift towards him, and his heartbeat rose then fell when it dropped back into her lap. She’d reached out in comfort, changed her mind, and the depth of his disappointment shook him.

  He drove into her driveway, ignoring the empty space in the street. Parking there meant walking her to her door and, seeing she’d come out to meet him earlier, he figured she’d prefer he didn’t.

 

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