Читать книгу A Forbidden Temptation - Anne Mather - Страница 11

CHAPTER THREE

GRACE STARTED ALMOST GUILTILY.

Despite the quietness of her surroundings, she hadn’t heard anyone’s approach and, glancing down, she could see why. He was wearing canvas boots, their rubber soles almost silent on the stone jetty.

Taking a deep breath, she turned.

‘Mr Connolly,’ she said politely. ‘How nice to see you again.’

‘Is it?’

Jack regarded her from between narrowed lids, wondering why he’d chosen to speak to her at all. Not ten days ago, he’d been hoping he’d never have to see her or her boyfriend again.

Grace lifted slim shoulders. She was still wearing the cream shell and navy suit she’d worn for work and, compared to his short-sleeved tee and black jeans, she felt ridiculously overdressed.

‘I...was just on my way home,’ she lied and saw the way his mobile mouth turned down.

Clearly, he didn’t believe her, but she couldn’t help that. She had no reason to care what he thought of her. But she couldn’t deny that she was powerfully aware of him as a man.

Still, for the present, she had to pretend that she and Sean were still together. She’d been in danger of denying that fact when she was at Jack’s house.

‘A pity,’ he remarked now, taking up a position similar to the one she had adopted. Lean muscled arms rested on the rail only inches from the hand she’d been using to support herself. ‘I thought maybe you were looking for the Osprey.’

‘The Osprey?’

Trying to ignore the fact that his soft Irish accent stroked like velvet over her skin, Grace managed to sound amazingly bewildered. So much so that Jack turned his head sideways to look at her.

‘Yeah, the Osprey,’ he said. ‘My boat.’

‘Oh—’ Grace moistened her lips. For some reason she was feeling a little breathless and tried to hide it. ‘Of—of course.’ Did she sound convincing? ‘I’d forgotten you had a boat.’

Jack made a sound that was half groan, half laugh. ‘Yeah, right,’ he said, and suddenly she resented his mockery.

‘Yes,’ she declared tightly. ‘Or do you imagine I came here looking for your boat? Perhaps you even think I was hoping to see you.’

‘Hey...’ He sounded almost amused now. ‘What did I say? I just thought—’

‘Yes, I know what you thought, Mr Connolly,’ retorted Grace hotly. ‘I’ve met men like you before.’

‘I’ll bet.’ Jack straightened, his own expression sobering. ‘I was being polite, that’s all. Forget it.’ He straightened. ‘See you around.’

He turned to stride away along the pier and instantly Grace felt ashamed.

It was evidently her day for annoying people, she thought resignedly, and Jack had every right to be annoyed with her.

For heaven’s sake, what had he said? It wasn’t his fault that the man had a talent for getting under her skin.

‘Mr Conn—I mean, Jack!’

Cursing her high-heeled pumps, Grace hurried after him. The stonework was uneven in places and she’d ricked her ankle at least twice before he stopped and looked back.

Immediately, Grace slowed to a walk, supremely self-conscious as she approached him. He didn’t say anything. His lean dark face was closed; enigmatic. And so incredibly sensual, she half regretted giving him a second chance.

‘Um—I just wanted to say I’m sorry,’ she said, trying to sound cool and confident. ‘It’s been a long day. I’m afraid you took the brunt.’

Jack surveyed her silently. Like her, he was conscious of the fact that there was more going on here than a simple apology. He guessed she felt obliged to be civil to him because of Sean Nesbitt. If only she knew.

For his part, he was far too aware of the full breasts rising and falling rapidly beneath her silk top. The top was less revealing than the tee shirt had been, but no less sexy.

She was wearing a short-skirted suit, too, that exposed more of those long, spectacular legs. Were her legs bare? He thought so. And the notion of running his hands up them and under her skirt was as unwelcome as his reaction.

As she drew nearer the fragrance of her perfume drifted to him. It was light, flowery, with just an underlying trace of musk. No doubt her sudden exertion was responsible for the wave of heat that was rising up her throat and into her cheeks.

‘It’s okay,’ he said, when she stopped beside him, managing to sound relaxed even though he was far from it. ‘I’ve had days like that.’ He paused, and then, because something more was required, ‘How’s the job?’

‘All right.’ Grace shrugged. ‘I guess.’

The pause was significant.

‘You only guess?’

His dark brows ascended and Grace pulled a wry face. ‘Working in Alnwick is great, but I’m not sure if I’m cut out to be an estate agent,’ she admitted. ‘I’m not a saleswoman.’

Jack pushed his thumbs into the back waistband of his jeans and regarded her sympathetically. ‘You haven’t been doing it for very long,’ he said. ‘How do you know?’

Grace sighed. ‘This is my second week.’

‘So give it more time.’

‘I suppose I’ll have to.’

Jack thought he sounded amazingly reasonable in the circumstances. But, since Lisa had died, he’d considered himself immune from the opposite sex. And he had been until this girl came into his orbit. He didn’t like feeling unsure of himself, but he was.

The urge to tuck a strand of silky red-gold hair behind her ear was almost irresistible. He wanted to touch her, to feel the satin-smooth skin beneath his fingers.

His muscles tightened automatically in anticipation, but somehow he reined his feelings in.

She was waiting for him to go on, so he said deliberately, ‘What does Sean think?’

‘Oh, Sean...’

If Jack hadn’t been so sure he was attributing her with feelings she didn’t have, he’d have said she sounded fed up.

‘Sean doesn’t know,’ she said at last. ‘I haven’t discussed it with him.’ And nor would she. She took a breath. ‘Yet.’

Jack nodded, and she wondered what he was thinking. Despite this conversation, she didn’t think he had a lot of respect for her or for Sean.

Well, that was okay, she decided. She’d had it with attractive Irishmen. With any man, for that matter. And just because Connolly was being sympathetic didn’t mean she should trust him, either.

‘So what do you plan to do?’ he asked now, rocking back on his heels. ‘If you left the estate agency, what sort of job would you like?’

‘I haven’t thought about it.’ Which was true. And despite her determination not to get involved with this man, it would be so easy to confide in him.

Her shoulders stiffening, she continued, ‘I suppose I’ll think about it.’ She paused. ‘I intend to stay in Rothburn. My mother likes me being nearer at hand. We’ve always been a close family.’

‘You have brothers and sisters?’

‘No. I’m an only child.’

‘And that’s the real reason you want to stay? Because of your mother?’

‘What is this? An interrogation?’ She moved towards the railings, her fingers curling over the cold metal. Then she sighed. ‘I suppose I want to stay here, too.’

O—kay.

Jack gave in to the impulse to go and join her. Where was the harm? he thought, leaning on the rail beside her. The fact that Grace was evidently conscious of his bare arm only inches from her sleeve was a bonus.

Dear God, he was in lust, and that was so not good.

‘How is your mother, anyway?’

Jack’s voice was a little strained, but he couldn’t help it. He’d chosen the words purposely to get his mind off the delights of the slender body almost brushing his sleeve.

It wasn’t working, so he added tersely, ‘I’m sorry. I should have asked you before.’

‘Why?’ Wide green eyes turned to look at him. ‘You don’t know my mother, do you? I asked Dad, and he said that as far as he knew—’

Her voice trailed off in confusion. Oh, God, why had she admitted she’d been asking her father about him? But she had to finish her sentence. ‘He—um—he said you’d never been into the pub.’

‘I haven’t.’

Jack didn’t sound perturbed, but Grace was mortified.

‘I suppose my enquiry stems from the fact that she’s your mother,’ he went on reasonably. ‘I hope you didn’t think I was prying.’

Prying?

Grace swallowed a little convulsively. ‘She’s—she’s much better,’ she said. ‘Cancer takes some getting over. But thank you for asking.’

Jack shrugged, turning his gaze towards the marina. But he could still see her eyes, open and candid, those words like a mirror to her soul.

Sean was so lucky, he thought, whereas he was being less than honest with her. And he had no right to be provocative. It couldn’t be easy for her and Sean to spend so much time apart.

All the same, he couldn’t deny that Grace’s mouth was so soft, so generous. A mouth he would very much like to taste...

Not that he ever would, he assured himself grimly. He was celibate, he reminded himself. And he intended to stay that way.

But there was nothing wrong with a little abstract speculation, was there?

Abstract?

Dragging his mind out of the gutter, he forced a polite smile. ‘So do you think Sean will like living in Rothburn?’ he asked, even though the idea of them setting up home somewhere in the vicinity filled him with dismay.

‘Oh...’ Grace was grateful to be distracted from her own thoughts. ‘Sean likes living in London.’ And that was true. She pushed herself away from the rail. ‘We’ll see.’

Jack turned his back to the barrier, arms spread along the rail where she’d been leaning, hooking one foot onto a lower rung.

He’d been on the verge of saying, Let me know what he decides, but it was really nothing to do with him. Besides, hadn’t he wanted to avoid Sean in the future? It would be a hell of a lot safer if they both moved away.

‘I’d better go.’

Grace was uneasily aware of how disturbing Jack looked lounging against the rail. He was much broader than Sean and, with his arms spread wide, his chest looked strong and muscular.

His stomach was flat, powerful thighs taut against the fabric of his jeans. Jeans that were worn to a much lighter shade in places, places where Grace determined not to look.

Although she did.

She couldn’t stop herself. The impressive bulge between his legs couldn’t help but draw her gaze. She felt an unfamiliar shivery sensation in the pit of her stomach.

Which troubled her a lot.

She blew out a breath.

‘Goodbye.’

With a nervous lift of her hand, she started back along the pier towards the quayside. But she was intensely conscious of Jack’s eyes watching her, of how much less constrained she’d have felt if she hadn’t been wearing a skirt.

‘Goodbye, Grace.’

The careless farewell drifted after her and she had to steel herself not to turn around and look back.

* * *

Jack spent the following weekend half anticipating that Sean would find an excuse to come and visit him again. But, despite his fears, Saturday and Sunday passed without incident.

And he didn’t know whether to be glad or sorry.

He knew he wouldn’t have objected to seeing Grace again, but it was probably just as well to cool that thought. In any case, he’d spent a goodly portion of both days on his boat, so it was possible he’d missed any visitors. Although knowing Sean, he doubted his temporary absence would have deterred him.

It poured with rain Monday and Tuesday and even Wednesday morning was overcast.

His housekeeper had phoned to say she wouldn’t be in that morning. And, unusually, Jack was feeling housebound. With the redecoration complete, and no other restoration project in prospect, he was restless.

Emptying the remains of his coffee into the sink, he left the kitchen and headed upstairs to his bedroom. He’d take the car for a drive, he decided firmly. He felt like driving and there was nothing to keep him here.

‘Are you going out?’

Jack was zipping up a pair of khaki pants when Lisa’s voice interrupted his thoughts.

He turned to find her slim form balanced on the edge of the windowsill. And he thought how typical it was that she hadn’t appeared for over a week, but now that he was planning on going out, she had to interfere.

‘Yeah, why not?’ He turned to pick up his leather jacket off the bed. ‘I’ve got nothing better to do.’

Lisa sniffed. ‘You could get a job.’ She paused, pressing a scarlet-tipped nail to her lips. ‘You have too much spare time on your hands.’

‘And that’s my fault, is it?’

Lisa’s lips pursed thoughtfully. ‘You’re going to see that girl, aren’t you?’

Jack’s jaw dropped. ‘I beg your pardon?’

‘Don’t pretend you don’t know who I’m talking about.’

Lisa slipped down off the windowsill and limped on her one high heel across the earth-toned carpet. ‘Even so, I doubt if Father Michael would approve.’

Jack’s lips twitched with humour now. Father Michael had been the priest who’d married them. He’d also officiated at Lisa’s funeral, but he doubted she was referring to that.

‘I think Father Michael gave up on me a good time ago,’ he remarked at last. ‘And I’m sure he’d be the first to suggest I should move on with my life.’

Lisa looked doubtful. ‘She’s very attractive, I suppose.’

Jack shook his head. ‘Do I have to remind you she already has a boyfriend?’

‘You mean Sean Nesbitt?’

‘That’s right. Sean Nesbitt. He’s a mate. I’m not about to forget that, am I?’

Lisa pulled a face. ‘Really?’

‘Hey, I don’t tell lies,’ retorted Jack, slotting his wallet and his mobile phone into his jacket pockets. ‘Which reminds me, you never did tell me where you were going the night you had the accident.’

He didn’t get an answer and he didn’t really expect one. It was a question he’d asked many times before. He knew, without even looking again, that Lisa was gone.

The Lexus was still standing on the drive and, dodging the rain, Jack got behind the wheel and started the powerful engine. Then, shoving a CD into the player, he backed the vehicle out onto the road.

So far he’d only seen a small part of the area. Cumbria and the Lake District were only a couple of hours’ drive west but, without much hesitation, Jack headed for the A1.

As he drove Jack wondered if he’d intended to visit Alnwick all along or whether Lisa’s taunts had piqued his interest. Either way, he refused to concede that he had any anticipation of seeing Grace again.

He was lucky enough to get parked in the town centre.

Despite the lowering clouds, there were plenty of people about, and Jack bought a map of the area before retiring to the nearest coffee shop to study it.

‘Looking for somewhere in particular?’

The pretty waitress who’d served him his coffee was standing at his shoulder and Jack looked up at her ruefully, wishing he had an answer for that.

‘Not specially,’ he replied non-committally. ‘I’ve never been to Alnwick before.’

‘Oh, you’re a tourist!’ The girl evidently thought she had him taped. ‘You’re from Ireland, aren’t you?’ She smiled flirtatiously. ‘I love your accent.’

‘Thanks.’ Jack grinned, amused in spite of himself. ‘Do you live in Alnwick?’

‘Just outside.’ She pulled a face. ‘It’s too expensive to live in town.’

‘It is?’

‘Oh, God, yes.’ She glanced over her shoulder to make sure the proprietor of the café hadn’t noticed she was wasting time. ‘It’s just as well you’re not looking for a house.’ She dimpled. ‘Unless you’re a secret millionaire, of course.’

Jack looked down at the map again, not wanting to give her any ideas. Besides, he reminded himself, he hadn’t come here looking for property.

Or estate agents, if it came to that.

‘Are you staying in town?’

The girl was persistent and Jack decided he had to nip this in the bud.

‘No,’ he said neutrally, swallowing the last of his coffee and pulling out his wallet. ‘I’m heading north to—’ He cast a quick glance at the map. ‘To Bamburgh.’ He got to his feet. ‘I believe there’s a castle there, too.’

‘Are you interested in castles?’

When Jack started for the counter to pay his bill, she accompanied him, apparently indifferent to the customers still waiting to be served.

Avoiding a direct answer, he said, ‘Thanks for your advice.’ He accepted his change with an apologetic smile for the cashier, hoping he could get out of the café without offending the waitress hovering behind him.

But to his dismay, she followed him to the door.

‘If you need someone to show you around, I’ll be finished in an hour,’ she offered eagerly. And Jack was just about to break his own rules and blow her off when the door opened and another young woman came in.

‘Jack!’

‘Grace.’

Jack managed to keep his reaction under control. But he was fairly sure that Grace had immediately regretted the way his name had sprung so effortlessly to her lips.

However, it was the young waitress who looked the most put out.

‘Hi, Grace,’ she said grudgingly. Then, glancing at Jack, ‘Do you two know one another?’

‘Um—a little.’

Grace was offhand, and before Jack could say anything in his own defence the waitress spoke again.

‘Hey,’ she exclaimed disbelievingly. ‘Don’t tell me this is your boyfriend. I thought his name was Sean.’

In the circumstances, Grace was loath to say anything. She felt hot colour rising up into her face. Of all people to run into—again—it had to be Jack Connolly. And, judging from the other girl’s attitude, she wouldn’t be averse to him taking an interest in her.

And why should it bother her? thought Grace crossly.

Meanwhile, Jack was feeling significantly peeved. He was all too aware of how the situation must look to Grace and he didn’t like it.

‘Look, I’m leaving,’ he said, uncaring at that moment what either of them thought of him. He nodded to Grace. ‘See you around.’