Читать книгу Second Chance Proposal: A Man Without Mercy / Bring It On / Rancher to the Rescue - Miranda Lee - Страница 9

CHAPTER FOUR

JACK ANSWERED FIVE missed calls, arranged for a man to come and look at Vivienne’s bathroom door tomorrow and booked them a table for a late lunch in the time it took Vivienne to make her reappearance, dressed in bone-coloured slacks, a white T-shirt and a black linen jacket. Her hair was still down and she was wearing only a minimum of make-up, especially around her eyes, which were bloodshot and red-rimmed.

‘You’ve been crying,’ he said stupidly before he could think better of it.

Vivienne shot him a droll look. ‘No kidding. It’s what women do when the man they love turns out to be a two-timing rat. I’m sorry, Jack, but if you want me to work for you in the coming weeks you’ll have to risk being on the end of a few crying jags.’

‘Fine,’ he said. ‘As long as you don’t expect me to do anything about them.’

She looked taken aback. ‘Like what?’

‘I have two sisters and a mother,’ he informed Vivienne. ‘If I didn’t hug them when they cried in front of me—which is depressingly often—I would be banned from their lives for ever.’

‘You have two sisters and a mother?’

Jack laughed at the astonished expression on her face. ‘What did you think—that I was a foundling, abandoned on a building site when I was a few days old?’

She smiled. She actually smiled. Not a common trait of Vivienne’s. She was one serious girl.

‘Not quite,’ she said. ‘But you don’t come across as a man in touch with his feminine side.’

‘Then you’d be wrong. Living with three women for a good chunk of my life meant I had no choice. Though it was more their feminine side I had to be in touch with rather than my own. I have to confess I’m not the kind of guy who cooks and cleans and sends soppy cards, but I do hugs very well.’

‘And you bring the right flowers, when required.’

Jack wasn’t sure if she was being sarcastic or witty.

‘Which I haven’t thanked you for,’ she went on with seeming sincerity. ‘Sorry, Jack. It’s not like me to be rude. Or ungrateful. I guess I’m not myself at the moment.’

‘Apology accepted. Now, shall we get out of here? Time’s marching on and I’ve booked us a table for lunch.’

She blinked. ‘You have? Where?’

‘Why don’t I just surprise you again?’

* * *

He certainly did surprise Vivienne again, in more ways than one. Not only by taking her to a very trendy seafood restaurant which overlooked nearby Balmoral Beach, but by the way he was treated there by the staff—like he was an extremely valued client who deserved the very best table and the very best service. Which he definitely got, with drinks brought and their orders taken in no time flat.

Clearly, Jack had been there more than once, which gave rise to the speculation that he might not be as much of a workaholic as she’d imagined him to be. Maybe he did have an active social life. And a proper girlfriend as opposed to a mistress. Not that she would ever ask such a personal question. Not directly.

But a certain amount of curiosity got the better of Vivienne in the end.

‘I gather you come here often?’ she said casually as she lifted her glass of mineral water to her lips. She’d declined his offer of wine. If she started drinking, she might become maudlin again.

‘Often enough,’ he replied noncommittally. ‘My mother lives on that hill over there. She loves seafood so I usually bring her here at least once a month. We also came here this year for Mother’s Day. The rest of the family came too. Given both my sisters are now married with children, we had to book a seriously large table.’

‘I see,’ Vivienne said, then decided, what the heck? She wanted to know more. ‘And you, Jack—why aren’t you married with children?’

It was a reasonable enough question and he didn’t seem to mind her asking, judging by his nondescript expression.

‘If I said I never had the time, or the energy, you probably wouldn’t believe me. But it’s true. My dad died when I was seventeen, leaving the family in terrible debt. I had to leave school and get to work straight away. I wasn’t happy, I can tell you; I’d made plans to go to uni to become an engineer. But that quickly went by the board. Still, I’m not complaining about that. I made good with what I did.’

‘You certainly did,’ Vivienne agreed. ‘Your company is not only successful, it’s one of the few construction companies in Sydney with a reputation for finishing projects on budget, on time and with good workmanship.’

Jack smiled at her. ‘You forgot to mention that I hire only the best in the business as well, which includes interior designers.’

‘And you forgot to mention why, after you made good, you still didn’t have time for marriage and children. Let’s face it, Jack, you’ve been at the top of the building ladder for some time now.’

‘True. But getting there was a hard slog. Then there was the responsibility of looking after my two younger sisters and my mother. My mother in particular. Mum’s not the strongest woman, emotionally. After my dad died, she totally fell apart. Even now, she has a tendency to fall into a depression at the drop of a hat. Some people are like that, you know. It’s hard on them and hard on the people who love them and care about them.’

‘Yes,’ Vivienne said with more empathy than he could possibly realise. ‘I’m sure it is.’

‘It’s a difficult situation to understand unless you live it,’ he said, assuming—mistakenly—that she wasn’t personally acquainted with such problems. ‘Anyway, like I said, by the time I was making serious money I just didn’t want to take on any further commitments or responsibilities. I still don’t. I... Hell, Vivienne,’ he broke off suddenly, his blue eyes startled. ‘Why on earth am I telling you all this?’

Vivienne rolled her eyes. Truly, anyone would think he’d committed a crime by unburdening his soul a bit. At least he had one. Unlike some people!

‘For pity’s sake, Jack,’ she said, a little more sharply than she intended. ‘Don’t go all “macho male” on me. There’s no harm in expressing your feelings occasionally. Women do it all the time. You should hear Marion and me when we have a girls’ night out. If you must know, I think it’s sweet the way you’ve looked after your family, especially your mother. As for your not wanting marriage and children... Well, there’s nothing wrong with that either. You have the right to live your life as you see fit. I was just curious. After all, you’re quite a catch. I dare say you’ve had loads of women running after you over the years.’

‘I’ve had my moments of being targeted.’ He opened his mouth to say something more then shut it again. Vivienne was wondering what he’d been about to say when their meals arrived—his and hers lobsters, along with French fries and side salads.

‘Oh my God,’ she said with a groan as she salivated over the food. ‘I didn’t realise till this very moment just how hungry I was.’

‘You and me both. Come on, let’s stop with the chit-chat and tuck in.’

Tuck in they did, all conversation ceasing as they went about the all-consuming task of totally stuffing their faces. Vivienne gave the occasional satisfied sigh whilst Jack did nothing but crunch and munch. It wasn’t until there wasn’t a morsel of succulent flesh left on her lobster that Vivienne lifted her head, only to find that Jack had just finished his lobster as well and was licking his fingertips with relish.

No, not licking. Sucking.

‘That was seriously good,’ he said between somewhat noisy sucks.

Vivienne didn’t say a word. Because she was staring at what Jack was doing and having the most inappropriate thoughts about his fingers. His amazingly long, thick fingers...

When a decidedly kinky fantasy involving herself and Jack filled her head, Vivienne sat up straight, pressing her spine hard against the back of the chair. She was totally rattled, not just by the erotic nature of her thoughts, but by the way her muscles had tightened deep inside her, as though in anticipation of being invaded by Jack’s fingers. She took several deep, calming breaths whilst she struggled to make sense of her behaviour. This was the second time that day that Jack had somehow turned her on. Not consciously, of course. Or deliberately. He would have no idea what mad thoughts he’d been evoking, first about his having a mistress stashed away somewhere, and now about his doing seriously intimate things to her with his fingers.

She wondered dazedly if her focus on things sexual had something to do with Daryl leaving her. Vivienne had been plagued over the past month by thoughts that she hadn’t satisfied him in bed, despite his always having said that she did. She’d wondered, during her think-fest in the bath, if Courtney Ellison did kinky things to Daryl that he’d always secretly craved, and which he now couldn’t live without. Maybe her own weird behaviour today was a rebound or a revenge thing, a crazy desire to prove to herself that she could be as wildly sexual as any woman.

Whatever, Vivienne could not deny that she was turned on at this moment. If only Jack would stop sucking those damned fingers!

She turned her eyes away, then did what she always did when life threatened to overwhelm her: she concentrated on work.

‘So, Jack,’ she said, looking back at him with her business face on. ‘Tell me exactly what the terms of my employment will be.’

Jack frowned as he picked up his white linen serviette and wiped his fingertips.

‘I can’t really give you specifics yet,’ he said. ‘Not till I see the place again. If you come with me tomorrow, you can inspect Francesco’s Folly for yourself and tell me how long you think the job will take to complete. I always prefer to pay designers a lump sum rather than so much per hour. At the same time, given you would be doing me a special favour by taking this job, I am prepared to be generous.’

Vivienne’s eyebrows lifted. Jack Stone was not known for his generosity. He was a fair businessman, but tough.

‘How generous?’ she asked.

‘Very generous.’

‘But why? I’m sure you could get any number of up-and-coming young designers to do the job for next to nothing. It would be a feather in their cap.’

‘But I don’t want any other up-and-coming designer, Vivienne. I want you.’