Captivated by the Enigmatic Tycoon

by Bella Bucannon

  ‘Hang on, I’ll come round.’

  He couldn’t resist lifting her from the cab, allowing his hands to linger on her waist, and pulling her a little closer before setting her on the ground. He basked in the warmth of her sweet grateful smile before releasing her and stepping back.

  She looked tired and there’d be no goodnight kiss, not even quick and gentle, much as he wanted to feel the softness of her lips under his.

  ‘Thank you, Jack. I had a...memorable evening.’

  ‘Me too. Sleep well and enjoy tomorrow. If the timing’s right, I’ll see you Friday afternoon.’

  Was it hope that flared in her stunning brown eyes? And what word had she bitten back?

  He closed the door and kept his arm around her until they were at the driver’s side of the bonnet. Fighting the desire storming through him, he caressed a gentle path down her cheek and cupped her chin with his fingers. Wasn’t sure how he kept his voice steady. Or stopped himself from pressing a gentle kiss on her lips, which were slightly parted and so inviting.

  ‘Sweet dreams, Cassie. I’ll wait until you’re inside.’

  She hesitated for a second before uttering a husky, ‘Goodnight, Jack,’ and turning towards the house. He watched every graceful step, curling his left hand’s fingers on his thigh as she unlocked the door and disappeared inside. Was she describing her evening as memorable to whoever was waiting in the front room?

  * * *

  The tautness in Jack’s muscles began to ease while he was waiting at a red traffic light two blocks away. He’d been a hair’s-breadth from wrapping her in his arms and finding out if she tasted as sweet as he imagined. Might have, if he hadn’t seen the glow from the television.

  He’d proved once that his lack of control could lead to tragedy. Letting someone get close meant letting your guard down, revealing your emotions, allowing theirs to sway you against your better judgement.

  He hadn’t lost his temper since Tara had died, never allowed any situation to get out of hand. And he avoided women who used cold shoulder treatment or flirting to get their own way. Keeping his true assets secret discouraged attention from those who favoured wealthy men.

  Cassie was different. He sensed she’d compromise and placate rather than inflame. Knowing he came from an affluent family seemed to discourage her from closer contact. He slid a USB into the port, hoping the Guns N’ Roses soundtrack would distract him. Didn’t work.

  * * *

  Sunlight creeping around the edges of her blinds woke Cassie without help from her alarm. So much for predicted rain. She felt loose and relaxed as she did a slow leisurely stretch plus a few neck circles.

  Had she dreamt of Jack? Couldn’t remember. She’d slept deep and sound, from the moment she’d snuggled under her quilt and closed her eyes. His suggestion popped into her head, making her smile. A bonus day, for special treats. Infinitely better than washing clothes and cleaning the bathroom.

  Grabbing her phone, she scrolled to Narelle. Her best friend’s young son spent Thursday with his grandma so with luck she’d be free. No answer so she left a message suggesting they meet for lunch and window-shopping therapy. Rolling onto her side to return the mobile to her bedside cabinet, she gazed at the framed picture there and smiled.

  ‘You’d have liked him, Mum. Open and direct. Doesn’t hide his disapproval but is ready to hear another opinion and admit he might be wrong. Not the man for me, though. But then I’m not sure there is one I could completely trust and confide in.’

  She threw back the covers, and shivered when her bare feet landed on the cold lino. Perhaps carpeting her bedroom should be shifted from third on her to-do list to top. Unless spring warmth arrived early this year.

  A short hot shower brightened her up, and the heady aroma from the coffee percolator drew her to the kitchen and Phil, a cheerful early riser.

  ‘Hi, stranger.’ Phil put her special mug next to the one already on the bench. ‘You’re not due back till tonight.’

  Taking two slices of bread from the packet, she set them to toast. ‘Sorry, I forgot to change the chart last night when I came home to change. I’m going back to Woodcroft tomorrow for one day, not sure when I’ll be back.’

  The chart the three housemates had devised kept track of when they’d be home and the division of chores. Even allowing for the occasional lapse, it had worked well for them for over three years.

  ‘Hitch in the job? It’s a long drive for a day’s work.’

  ‘Unavoidable, and the lady might have more for me to do in the next few weeks. Brad home?’

  ‘He left before sun-up.’ He placed her steaming drink on the table and sat down with his. ‘What’s your plan for the weekend?’

  Narelle’s call came as they talked and, after arranging their meeting, she passed the phone to Phil while she cleared the table.

  ‘Barbecue with the gang on Sunday,’ he told her as he put her mobile down and took his mug and plate to the sink. ‘See you later.’

  Her mobile rang again as she walked back to her bedroom.

  Jack.

  ‘Hi, Cassie, sleep well?’

  ‘Very. Thank you for calling, and again for last night.’

  ‘Just checking. You have a relaxing day.’

  ‘I will. I’m having lunch with a friend.’

  ‘Good. I’ll see you tomorrow, Cassie.’

  ‘Mmm, tomorrow.’

  She disconnected and cradled her phone in her palm, staring at his ID. Why had he called, and why had her brain gone missing? Because it had been occupied with drying her throat, ranking up her heartbeat and prickling all her nerve endings.

  * * *

  Narelle’s blonde hair with green highlights and her flair for colourful fashions made her easy to spot in the spacious food court of the shopping centre. Salad wraps and milkshakes were on the table.

  They chatted about friends, Narelle’s progressing second pregnancy and the challenges of rearing an active three-year-old boy. Laughing off his latest escapade, her astute friend pushed her plate away and studied Cassie with questioning eyes.

  ‘So, give. I can’t quite pick it but something’s happened. You have an aura about you.’

  Her emotions showed? How the heck could Cassie say she was attracted to a charismatic man who was very protective of her employer, his great-aunt? And that the desire, even if merely physical on his part, was reciprocated. Hey, wasn’t that what it was for her?

  ‘Cassie Clarkson, you’re blushing.’

  ‘I’m not. I was thinking.’

  ‘About who?’

  About how to describe the last two days with drastic editing.

  ‘The house is similar to the historic one you considered buying when you got married, beautifully maintained and furnished. Mel is friendly, down-to-earth and well on the way to full recovery after a car accident.’

  She drank through her straw, gaining time to formulate the right words.

  ‘And she has this great-nephew who—get that matchmaking look off your face, Narelle—is handsome, charming and so out of my league I’m surprised we speak the same language.’

  ‘Handsome as in to-die-for?’

  Mesmerising dark green eyes, finger-itching unruly brown hair and a tempting full mouth. Add to the mix that haunting crackle of a laugh...

  ‘With a smile on your lips.’ Removing the straw, Cassie emptied her glass. ‘Let’s go and challenge my bank card.’

  Yet even as she placed the food wrappers in the bin she was thinking of Jack rather than the clothes she was about to try on. Was he having lunch with Mel right now or mowing the lawns he’d postponed yesterday?

  * * *

  At roughly the same time as Cassie used her credit card for the third time, Jack drove into Mel’s driveway. He’d barely hit the bed before he�
�d fallen asleep last night, and had spent today recalling Cassie’s revelations. He’d learned a lot about how she responded to words and actions, yet little of her life or history.

  He wasn’t sure why he’d called her this morning. To hear her voice and find out how she’d slept? To ask what she had planned because the sunshine meant he’d be working not far from her most of the day? Whatever he’d intended, her response meant he’d spent the day pondering whether her friend was male or female.

  Sam greeted him as he walked in the back door, and Mel was in the family room rearranging footwear. He hugged and kissed her, held on a little longer than usual. Hated having to accept the realities that ageing brought.

  ‘You look tired, Jack. Another late night?’

  ‘No, a very pleasant one, actually.’ He kept the details to himself because she might ask why, and he had no plausible answer. ‘Did you really wear every one of these shoes?’

  ‘I must have. Coffee and scones?’

  ‘Tea, and I’ll get it. I’ve had a few ideas I want to discuss with you about the house.’

  Her face clouded for a moment. ‘So have I. It’s all so confusing but better to have everything worked out now rather than the family having to deal with it.’

  He drew her back into his arms. ‘We’ll all do whatever you feel most comfortable with, Mel. Your peace of mind is top priority.’

  She tapped his cheek, as she’d done hundreds of times over the years, smiled and pulled away.

  ‘I’m reasonably healthy, my leg is much better and I can still cook up a feast. Go pop the scones in the oven for a few minutes. The jam and cream are in the fridge.’

  ‘Do you want any of those shoes taken upstairs?’

  ‘No, Cassie will check them off on her list first.’

  Cassie. Tomorrow. And soon for a week at a time.

  By then he’d better have worked out how he was going to handle this magnetism between them.

  * * *

  The electric jug was boiling and Mel’s homemade biscuits were fresh from the oven when Cassie arrived on Friday morning. They sat in the lounge and, after she’d heard about the trip to Murray Bridge, discussed the day’s agenda.

  ‘The clothes and shoes are sorted and ready for the final tick-off. Jack and I phoned everyone and the women are coming Sunday afternoon to take their pick. The men and children will be here for a barbecue later.’

  Cassie thought of the wide veranda along the back of the house packed full of people enjoying each other’s company, laughing, joking and telling stories. For a moment the injustice of fate twisted her heart and her fingers curled into her palms. She was grateful Mum’s suffering had been short, but sometimes couldn’t help but be angry she’d lost her too soon.

  Blinking away threatening tears, she turned her head and found herself staring at Mel and Bob’s wedding photo. What were Jack’s words? ‘Imagine losing someone after forty-five years.’ More if you counted the courtship.

  Yet the woman opposite her had overcome her despair, and was winning the battle against physical pain and loss of independence, buoyed by family support. Cassie accepted that growing up with no other relatives but Mum had influenced her view on life. Her friends and their families had proved she need never feel alone, yet sometimes she couldn’t escape the void.

  She knew she had so much to be thankful for. Shaking away the blue feeling, she helped herself to another honey and almond biscuit.

  ‘Better hope for sunshine. Will they all fit on the veranda?’

  ‘Out there, in here and in the family room, depending on whether you want to talk sport, gossip or play hide and seek.’

  ‘You have a wonderful house and garden for children to play in.’

  ‘My home is what I need to think about.’

  * * *

  It was the kind of mixed feelings day that left Cassie drained by the time she got home around four after being held up three times by roadworks. Knowing she was partly to blame, well, mostly to be truthful, for her high expectations of seeing Jack didn’t help. Neither did telling herself she’d lived twenty-seven years without his presence so what was the big deal about not seeing him for ten days.

  He’d made a quick call mid-afternoon to tell his aunt he’d been held up and would pop in tomorrow. Hadn’t asked about her or to speak to her, which hurt a little though the conversation barely lasted two minutes so he must have been in a hurry. She could also understand he might want to keep last night’s dinner a secret from his family.

  She took a long hot shower, something she rarely did, trying to lather away her blues. Dressed in warm trousers, a thick bright green patterned jumper and her favourite mood-picking-up red boots, she studied the contents of the larder and refrigerator. Nothing there tempted her appetite.

  Two phone calls, a ‘Fancy eating at the pub tonight?’ greeting to Phil when he arrived home, and the evening had been arranged. Just what she needed. A packed room, Aussie rules football on the wall-mounted televisions and enough chatter to stop her thinking. The food might not be as fancy as Wednesday night but it was always fresh and tasty.

  CHAPTER NINE

  THEY ENDED UP in the overflow dining area next to the poker machine room. Sipping her Malibu and lemonade, she joined in a spirited debate on the current football finals. If someone hadn’t tapped her on the shoulder and pointed to her handbag under the table, she’d have missed her ringtone.

  It had stopped by the time she’d pulled her mobile out. Sliding it open, she saw Jack’s caller ID and went into the quieter entrance. There was no reason for the uplift in her spirits, or for her pulse to race. Probably just a query on next week’s agenda.

  ‘Cassie.’ She heard the smile in his voice, which rekindled heat in her abdomen, scary yet exciting. Seeking more privacy, she stepped outside, sheltering under a canopy.

  ‘Hi, I’m sorry I missed your call. It’s kinda noisy here.’

  ‘I can hear it. Quite a crowd you’ve got there.’ Did she imagine the slight bite of disapproval in his tone?

  ‘I had a rotten drive home, and didn’t feel like cooking. Called some friends and we met at the pub for dinner. Didn’t realise it would be so busy, but it’s fun.’ She knew she was babbling, tried a different topic.

  ‘Have you seen Mel today?’ There were traffic sounds in the background so he wasn’t at home.

  ‘No, I spoke to her earlier. The quick repair job I’d planned turned into an all-dayer.’

  ‘You’re not driving now?’ Idiot. She heard the concern in her voice, hoped it didn’t transmit down the line.

  ‘No. But it’s nice to know you care, Cassie.’ It must have. ‘I prefer to pull over and talk, keep hands-free for necessities. I’ve stopped to pick up Chinese takeaway.’ It sounded as if he was clearing his throat. ‘I thought about you today.’

  Their talk was a continuation of her day, emotions shooting up and down, uncertainty fogging her normal comprehension. Answering with the truth wasn’t an option. She dredged her mind for a light, harmless answer. Ditto came to mind, discarded as too clichéd.

  ‘The correct reply is I thought of you too.’

  Now he was laughing at her. Or with her? Either way, she liked the intimacy he managed to instil into his resonant voice. She could play the flirting game too, over the line, where she was safe from his compelling green eyes, intoxicating touch and seductive lips.

  ‘Are you fishing for compliments, Jack Randell?’

  Even across the expanse of a major city and using a mobile phone didn’t diminish the power of his crackling laugh. She could almost feel the heat from the campfire and hear the rustle of spinifex being blown across the sand.

  ‘Not until I can see you and tell if you mean it. Wanna do FaceTime?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Are you blushing, Cassie?’ />
  How the heck could he tell? ‘Why would I be? We’re just talking?’

  ‘I can hear it in your voice.’

  It was her turn to chuckle. ‘You’re full of it, Jack Randell. You should be selling stuff, not repairing it.’

  ‘Pity you’re not buying.’ His voice deepened as he emphasised the second word, sending quivers shooting up and down her spine. What effect would he have on her if they were together? The very thought robbed her of breath and coherent reasoning.

  Thankfully, she heard his name called in the background, saving her from replying, giving her seconds to regroup.

  ‘My order’s ready.’

  ‘You’d better go. Enjoy your exotic meal, Jack.’

  ‘Don’t have too much fun, Cassie. Sweet dreams.’

  ‘Goodnight.’ She stayed outside, inhaling and exhaling slowly and steadily. How could she stay immune to the charisma of a man who could turn her inside out over the phone?

  * * *

  Jack accepted his carry bag of hot foil containers and strode out of his favourite Chinese restaurant. He’d ordered two mains and a special fried rice—wished it were more, and that Cassie was joining him to eat.

  Who was ‘we’? Did it involve the same person she’d met for lunch yesterday? Tossing his dinner onto the passenger seat, he slid into his ute and was buckling in when he became aware he was grinning.

  Cassie had been flirting. Bet she wouldn’t next time they met. There’d be no safety of distance between them. The idea of provoking her, and seeing her creamy cheeks blush rosy red, was appealing. Tracing a slow fingertip path across her skin to her chin even more so. Especially if it led to him tilting her head and covering her irresistible lips with his.

  His libido was driving his imagination again, a problem he’d been having since mid-afternoon Tuesday. Only three days ago, but it seemed like a lifetime.

  He ate in his dimmed lounge, feet on the coffee table as he watched a documentary on distant solar systems. For the first time since he’d moved in, he was conscious of the space around him and the absence of any other person’s presence apart from numerous family photos in the downstairs rooms.