by Joss Wood
Jack winced.
‘I was swept away by him. He dealt in beauty and objects of art. He was a social butterfly—had invitations to something every night of the week. But he never took me along to anything. Like my father, he dropped in and out of my life. I kept asking him about the exhibition, spending time with me, taking me along, but he kept fobbing me off.’
‘Bastard,’ Jack growled.
‘I told him that I wanted to break it off and he responded by proposing. I thought that meant that he’d change, but nothing did. I saw less of him than ever.’
‘So what precipitated the break-up?’ Jack briefly wondered why he was so interested in her past, why he felt the need to find the jerk and put him into a coma.
‘I told him that I was done with waiting around for him. He responded by telling me that I was a mediocre artist who’d never amount to anything. That he’d just wanted to sleep with me occasionally but I wasn’t worth the hassle...that it was, essentially, not worth my being around, him trying to keep me happy.’
Forget the coma. He now had the urge to put the guy six feet under. When Mitch had mentioned him he’d initially felt sorry for him, because he’d thought that she must have been pushing him into marriage, but he was the one who’d messed her around, messed her up. No wonder she tried so hard to be indispensable to the people she loved; she thought she had to try harder to be loved.
The two men she’d loved the most had hurt her, damaged her the most. God, the ways that love could mess up people. Just another reason why he wanted nothing to do with it...
‘Anybody since then?’ Jack asked, although he knew there hadn’t been.
‘No.’
Needing to move, to work off his anger, Jack jumped up and jogged up the stairs to inspect another painting. He placed his hands on his hips and looked around at the art covering the walls.
‘Good grief, Ellie, some of these paintings are utterly fantastic. I’m trying to work out which ones are yours, because not all of them are.’
‘Some are by fellow art students; others I’ve picked up along the way,’ Ellie said, pride streaking through her voice. ‘You like art?’
‘I love art. Sculpture. Architecture,’ Jack confirmed, quickly moving up the stairs to examine a seascape.
He placed a hand on his hip and winced at the movement. Ellie watched his body tense. His face was illuminated by the spotlight above his head. The violet shadows beneath his eyes were back and his face was pale beneath his slight tan.
Jack Chapman, she decided, had no concept of how to pace himself. He’d recently suffered a horrendous beating, had a nasty knife wound, and yet he’d spent the day sightseeing. She could see that he was exhausted and in pain, and she knew that he was one of those men who would carry on until he fell down.
He came across as easygoing and charming but there was a solid streak beneath the charm, a strength of character that people probably never saw beneath the good looks and air of success. His thought-processes were clear-headed and practical. While he’d challenged her decisions and her actions she didn’t feel as if he was judging her.
He’d coaxed her past out of her and he was a fabulous listener. He listened intently and knew when to back away from the subject to give the guts-spiller some time to compose themselves.
Ellie caught his slight wince as he walked back down the stairs and she shook her head at him. ‘For goodness’ sake—will you sit down before you fall down?’
Jack’s strong eyebrows pulled together. ‘I’m fine.’
‘Jack, you’re not fine. You’re exhausted and your body is protesting. Take a seat in the lounge, watch some TV. Do you want something to drink?’
Jack raked his hand through his hair. ‘Nothing, thanks. Mind if I veg out on the veranda for a while?’
‘Knock yourself out,’ Ellie said. ‘I’ll plate up the Chinese.’
‘Hey, El?’ Jack called.
Ellie poked her head around the kitchen door. ‘Yes?’
Jack rattled off an Arabic curse and Ellie wrinkled her nose. ‘Something...something donkey. Sorry...what?’
‘I just called your ex a bleeping-bleeping horse’s bleeping ass.’
Ellie laughed. Nice, Jack.
* * *
After supper they headed back to the veranda and watched as dusk fell over the long coastline. Lights winked on as they sipped their red wine, sharing the couch with their bare feet up on the stone wall. Jack placed his arm along the back of the couch and Ellie felt his fingers in her hair. She turned to look at him but Jack was watching her hair slide between his fingers.
‘It’s so straight, so thick.’
Ellie felt his hands tug the band from her hair and felt the heavy drop as her hair cascaded down her back, could imagine it flowing over Jack’s broad hand. She heard his swift intake of breath, felt his fingers combing her hair.
‘I love the coloured streaks. They remind me of the flash of colour in a starling’s wing.’
There was that creative flair again—this time with words. And there was that sexual buzz again. Ellie licked her lips. ‘They’re not my real hair.’
‘Still pretty.’ Jack lifted a strand of her hair and because it was so long easily brought it to his nose. ‘Mmm...apple, lemon...flour.’
Ellie could not believe that she was so turned on by a man sniffing her hair. ‘Jack...’
His eyes deepened, flooded with gold. He drifted the ends of her hair over his lips before dropping it and sliding his big hand around her neck. ‘Yeah?’
Ellie dropped her eyes. ‘We weren’t going to do this, remember?’
‘Shh, nothing is going to happen,’ Jack said.
He dropped his arm behind her back, wrapped it around her waist and pulled her so that she was plastered against his hard body. Ellie swung around and rested her head against his chest, deeply conscious of his warm arm under her breasts.
‘Did you submit your piece on that Somalian pirate-slash-warlord?’ Ellie asked, to take her mind off the fact that she wanted to move his hands to more deserving areas of her body. Her breasts, the backs of her knees, between her legs.
‘Yes. I didn’t get as much information from him as I wanted to, but it was okay.’
‘Have you worked out what you said that set him off?’
She felt Jack shake his head. ‘Nah. I think he was high...and psychotic.’
‘That might be it.’ Ellie rested her hands on his arm, feeling the veins under his skin. ‘Tell me about yourself. Mother? Father? Siblings?’
‘Like you, I was an only child. I’m not sure why,’ Jack replied.
Ellie half smiled. ‘Tell me what you were like as a kid.’
She felt him stiffen at her question. ‘At what age?’
Strange question. ‘I don’t know...ten?’
Jack’s laugh rumbled through his chest. ‘Hell on wheels. Maybe that’s why my folks didn’t have another kid. They probably despaired in case they’d have another boy.’
Ellie laughed. ‘You couldn’t have been that bad.’
‘I was worse. Before I was eight I’d broken a leg, had three lots of stitches and lost most of my teeth.’
Ellie’s mouth fell open. ‘How on earth did you manage to do that?’
‘The broken leg came from ramping with my BMX. The ramp I’d built myself collapsed. The teeth incident was from a fight with Juliet Grafton. I called her ugly—which she was. She was also built like a brick outhouse and her father was a boxing champion. Her mean right hook connected with my mouth. Stitches—where do I start? Falling off bikes, roofs, rocks...’
Ellie raised an eyebrow.
‘But I was cute. That counted for a lot.’
She wanted to tell him he was still cute, but she suspected he already knew that, so instead she just watched night fall over the sea.
SIX
Ellie walked into the ballroom on Jack’s arm and looked around the packed space, filled with black-suited men and elegant women. His appearance caused a buz
z and Ellie felt the tension in Jack’s arm as people turned to watch their progress into the room. To them he was a celebrity, and well respected, and a smattering of applause broke out.
Jack half lifted his hand in acknowledgement. When he spoke, he pitched his voice so that only she could hear him. ‘Those are the most ridiculous shoes, Ellie.’
Ellie grinned at the teasing note in his voice. He’d already told her that he liked her shimmery silver and pink froth of a cocktail dress, and she knew that her moon-high silver sandals made her calves look fantastic. She felt fantastic; she was sure it had a lot to do with the approval in Jack’s expressive eyes.
‘And, as I said, that is a sexy dress. Very you. Bright, colourful, playful.’
Ellie looked around and half winced. ‘Most women are wearing basic black.’
‘You’re not a basic type of girl. And colour suits you.’ He touched the hair she’d worked into a bohemian roll, with curls falling down her back. ‘Gorgeous hair...make-me-crazy scent...’
‘So I’ll do?’
Jack took her hand and his words were rueful. ‘Very much so.’
Ellie smiled with pleasure, then lifted her eyebrows as a tall blonde with an equine face stalked up to Jack, took his hand and kissed his cheek. Jack lifted his own eyebrows at her familiarity as she introduced herself as the Chairperson of the Press Club. Ellie forgot her name as soon as she said it.
‘I have people who’d like to meet you,’ she stated in a commanding voice.
‘I’d like to get my date a drink first,’ Jack said, untangling himself from her octopus grip.
‘Ellie?’
Ellie turned at the deep voice and looked up into laughing green eyes in a very good-looking face. ‘Luke? What are you doing here?’
‘St Sylve is one of the club’s sponsors,’ he told Ellie, after kissing her on the cheek. He held out his hand to Jack. ‘Luke Savage.’
‘You drink Luke’s wine all the time at home, Jack,’ Ellie told him after they’d been introduced. ‘Where’s Jess, Luke?’
Luke looked around for his fiancée and shrugged. ‘Probably charming someone for business.’
‘Jack, I really must take you to meet some people.’
The blonde tugged on Jack’s sleeve and Ellie caught the irritation that flickered in his eyes.
Jack looked at Ellie and then at Luke. ‘Will you be okay?’
Ellie smiled at him. ‘Sure. I’ll hang with Luke and Jess and see you at dinner.’
Jack nodded and turned away.
Ellie looked up at Luke and pulled a face. ‘We’re going to be placed at some awfully boring table, I can tell, with Horse Lady neighing at Jack all night.’
Luke grinned. ‘Well, we’re sitting with Cale and Maddie—’
Ellie squealed with excitement. ‘They’re here too?’
‘Cale is a sports presenter and journalist, El.’
‘I so want to sit with you guys!’ Ellie fluttered her eyelashes up at him.
Luke winked at her. ‘We’ll just have to see if we can make that happen.’
Ellie felt a feminine arm encircle her waist and turned to look into her friend’s laughing deep brown eyes.
‘Are you flirting with my husband-to-be, Ellie Evans?’
Ellie laughed and kissed Jess’s cheek. ‘’Fraid so.’
‘Can’t blame you. I flirt with him all the time. Now, tell me—why and how are you here with the very yummy Jack Chapman?’
* * *
Luke had somehow organised that they were all at the same table, and Jack felt himself relaxing with Ellie’s charming group of friends. They were warm and down-to-earth and Jack was enjoying himself.
He leaned closer to Ellie and lowered his voice. ‘How do you know all these people?’
Ellie sent him a side-glance out of those fabulous eyes. ‘Maddie and I went to uni together. I met Luke through her, and Cale—he and Cale are old schoolfriends. But I’ve known Jess for years and years—before she and Luke met. Her company does Pari’s advertising.’
‘So, El,’ Luke said as he picked up a bottle of wine from the ice bucket on the table and topped up their glasses with a fruity Sauvignon, ‘what’s this I hear about you having to move your bakery?’
Ellie wiped her hands on a serviette and pulled a face. ‘I have to find new premises in less than six months.’
‘And have you found anything?’ Cale asked.
‘Maybe. There’s an old building close to the bakery that might work. It’s supposed to be on the market, but I need to find an architect—someone who can look at the house and tell me if it’s solid and if I can do the alterations I’m thinking of—before I put in an offer.’
Luke looked at Cale and they both nodded. ‘James.’
‘Another friend from uni?’ Jack asked with a smile on his face.
Luke and Cale laughed, but didn’t disagree with him. Luke told Ellie that he’d send her his contact details and the rest of the table moved onto another subject.
‘Are you seriously considering that building for the bakery?’ Jack asked Ellie, resting his cheek on his fist.
‘Maybe. Possibly.’ Ellie fiddled with her serviette. ‘I’ll speak to James and see what he says. Then I’ll have to run it by my mum.’
‘Understandable, since Pari’s will be paying for it.’ Jack saw something flash across her face and frowned. ‘You’re paying for it? How would you...? Sorry—that has nothing to do with me.’
‘How would I pay for it? It’s fine. I don’t mind you asking. Ginger—my grandmother—set up a trust for me when I was little and she’s pretty wealthy. Pari’s would pay me rent. That’s if I actually decide to buy and renovate the building.’
There it was again—that lack of confidence in her eyes. ‘Why do you doubt yourself?’
‘It’s a lot of money, Jack.’ Ellie twisted the serviette through her fingers. ‘What if it’s a disaster? What if I end up disappointing my mother, Merri, my grandmother Pari’s memory...? God, my customers?’
‘That’s a lot of disappointing, El. And a lot of what-ifs.’ Jack placed his hand on hers and held them still. ‘You love that building. Yours eyes light up when you talk about it. When are you going to start trusting yourself a little more?’
Ellie bit that sexy bottom lip—the one he wanted so badly to taste again.
‘Merri says that I’m too much of a people-pleaser. That I have this insane need to make the world right for everyone.’
He didn’t think Merri was wrong. ‘You need to start listening to yourself more and to underestimate yourself less.’
Ellie twisted her lips. ‘And not to think that I’m indispensable and the world will stop turning if I say no... I’m a basket case, Jack.’
Jack sent her an easy grin. ‘We’re all basket cases in our own way. You’re just a bit more...vulnerable. Softer than most.’
‘I need to grow a bit more of a spine.’
‘I think you’re pretty much perfect just as you are.’
Jack sighed as the Master of Ceremonies started to talk. He’d much rather talk to Ellie than listen to boring speeches. He heard the MC introducing him and grimaced. His was probably going to be the most boring speech of all. He felt Ellie’s hand grasp his knee and a bolt of sexual attraction fizzed straight through him.
‘You didn’t tell me that you were making a speech!’ she hissed.
He stood up, buttoned his jacket and looked down at her. ‘Yeah, well, for some reason they find me interesting.’
‘Weird. I simply can’t understand why,’ Ellie teased.
Jack swallowed his laughter before moving away from her and heading for the podium, thinking that he could think of a couple of things he’d rather be doing than giving a speech. Top of the list was doing Ellie. In the pool, in the kitchen, in the shower...
Jack reached the podium, looked at the expectant faces and let his eyes drift over to his table. Luke raised his glass at him. Maddie rested her arms on the table and sent him a friendly smi
le. Ellie, being Ellie, pulled a quick tongue at him and he swallowed a grin.
There wasn’t much wrong with the world if Ellie was in it, making him laugh.
* * *
It had been heaven to be in Jack’s arms, even if it was just for a couple of slow dances around the edge of the dance floor. In her heels she’d been able to tuck her face into his neck, feel his warm breath in her hair, on her temple. There had been nothing demure about their dancing. They’d been up close and personal and neither of them had been able to hide their desire. Her nipples had dug into his chest and her stomach brushed his hard erection. Their breaths mingled, lips a hair’s breadth apart. She was certain that someone would soon notice the smoke and call the fire brigade.
The music had changed now, from slow to fast, and Jack’s broad hand on her lower back steered her back to their empty table. He pulled out a chair for her and looked from her to a hovering waiter.
‘What can I get you to drink? G&T? A cocktail? Or do you feel like sharing a bottle of red wine?’
‘That sounds good.’
Ellie crossed her legs as Jack took the chair next to her and flipped open the wine list he’d been handed. He held it so that Ellie could scan the selection with him.
Ellie tapped the list with her finger. ‘I don’t really care as long as it has alcohol and is wet. Any of Luke’s wines are good. St Sylve’s.’
She sounded nervous, Jack thought. So she should, even if she had only a vague idea of how close she’d come to being ravished on the dance floor.
Jack rubbed his forehead. Ravished. Only Ellie could make him think of such an old-fashioned word. Pulling himself together, he ordered the wine, then slipped off his suit jacket before loosening the collar on his white dress shirt and yanking down his tie in an effort to get more air into his lungs. Now, if only he could sort his tented pants out.
‘That’s better.’
Ellie touched her hair and smiled wryly. ‘I wish I could do that to my hair.’