How could she offer any man all he’d desire in a wife and partner when there was no paternal name on her birth certificate? When she had no family history to offer?
‘Sorry I’ve been so long. A friend wanted my recipe for jam drop biscuits.’
Cassie started, though she was getting used to Mel’s voice preceding her into a room. Adjusting the straps of a dress on the rack gave her a moment to refocus. The red silk under her fingers was so fine, she could imagine the luxurious texture against her skin as she swayed or danced. It was every woman’s dream, a spectacular gown for a romantic waltz in a special man’s arms.
Mel came closer. ‘Oh, my goodness, I don’t even remember some of these clothes. How did I collect so many?’
‘You could hold a garage sale and finance a Pacific cruise.’ Jack’s amused voice made Cassie spin round. She’d assumed Mel was alone.
‘Don’t be flippant, Jack.’ His aunt’s tone softened her words. ‘We donate unwanted goods, not sell them.’
‘There are outlets for high quality second-hand fashions,’ Cassie told them. ‘They’d fetch a higher price than a charity could charge, and you could donate the money. We still have to empty the second wardrobe.’
‘Hmm, what do you think, Jack?’
‘It’s worth checking into. Now, if Cassie will show me which hinges need tightening upstairs, I’ll get them done now.’
His smile didn’t reach his green eyes and her instinct was to decline. He could easily tell which ones were loose so why ask for her help? She answered with a curt nod.
Knowing he was following did funny things to her usual composed bearing, and she found herself taking the stairs with slow careful steps. Heat from his eyes skittled up and down her spine and the ripple in her belly was like a soft breeze stirring waves on the sea. Long steady breaths didn’t quell her escalating heartbeat.
She twisted round at the top, grasping the rarity of being almost eye to eye. He caught her elbow without giving her a chance to speak, and gently propelled her to the bedroom at the far end of the passage.
Shaking free from his tingling hold, she stepped back a few paces and kept her voice low. ‘As if you need help. This is like a second home for you.’ Even huskier than normal when she’d meant to sound forceful.
He leant on the doorjamb, the rigidity of his muscles negating his casual stance, and gazed at her silently, features composed. This was a man adept at verbal negotiations. His lips curled confidently, and her body quivered as if he’d stroked warm fingers across her skin. She instinctively re-ran her mantra in her head.
Stay strong. Keep distance.
‘Sounds like you’ve heard a lot in one day, Cassie Clarkson.’
‘It comes with the job. People, especially if they live alone, often open up to someone who’s temporary and won’t have a lasting connection in their life.’
‘You remember what they tell you.’
‘I’ve learnt not to retain the sensitive personal stuff. But I’ll never forget your aunt’s courage and determination to rebuild her life for the second time. She’s inspiring.’
He straightened up and took a pace forward. She sucked in air and held her ground.
‘She’s vulnerable since she lost Bob, even more so now.’
‘How long since...?’
‘Three years. Two months after their forty-fifth anniversary.’ His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. ‘Imagine losing someone after forty-five years, how suddenly the one you care about is no longer there.’
She heard deep pain in the last few words, empathised as hers had hardly eased. Was it Bob or someone else he grieved for?
‘She has all of you. That’s more than some people have.’
His head jerked up and she averted her eyes.
He’s smart, Cassie. Guard what you say. Keep strong and quiet.
‘I assume you have references that can be verified.’ Blunt, as if he regretted showing emotion.
‘Of course.’ She held his gaze. She had nothing to hide except her inexplicable responses to him.
His low grunt showed he wasn’t quite convinced. ‘Do you have them with you? May I see them?’ Calmly stated with an I-won’t-be-dissuaded manner.
‘Not unless Mel requests it.’ She mimicked his attitude, prepared to be polite, refusing to be bullied.
He frowned and came closer, into her personal space. ‘She can be too trusting. I’m betting she hasn’t asked for them.’
She smelt clean male sweat with a hint of sandalwood each time she inhaled, fought the instinct to run from the room. Yet not from fear; quite the opposite. She had an irrational urge to edge forward, minimise the gap.
Jack could sense a women’s attraction for him, but it didn’t mean he’d follow through. Cassie was giving out mixed messages. Her body implied yes, her eyes were wary and her voice said no. She boldly locked eyes with him—he now discerned a fine gold rim round her dark brown irises, yet at times there were shutters, like a misty blind she lowered at will.
She had spunk, hadn’t backed off even though he came near enough to detect the faint aroma of peaches. Sweet. Enticing. He was aware of her in a new, unnerving way and his body responded to her, male to female.
His gut feeling said she had secrets hidden behind solid barriers no one was permitted to breach. She could keep them unless they caused trouble for Mel. His life ran smoothly and his long-term strategy for success was on track. As alluring as she was, he’d never let his guard down, never again let a woman believe she could manipulate him.
Tara had swayed him so many times, with her pouting lips and soft caresses, had been convinced she’d succeed again on the trip to the snowfields nine years ago. With blue eyes misting, she’d denied flirting with the ski instructor, only he’d seen her and anger had flared at her lies. Bitter accusations had ended with him telling her to find some other patsy and flinging himself onto the bed they’d shared, telling her not to wake him if she came back.
She hadn’t returned. An impulsive decision to ski alone on an unfamiliar track had ended her life. He couldn’t change the past but by keeping rigid control of his temper he had command of his future.
Challenge flared in Cassie’s eyes, her lips curled and she tilted her head like a beguiling child. ‘Why don’t you check with her when you come down?’
The emotive tone in her voice didn’t quite match the softer personal one in her eyes. And he wasn’t sure which one he’d like to pursue, despite his recent vow. He gestured for her to pass and she did.
Too quick. Too close. Her fingers brushed his arm and a bolt of energy shot through him, like nothing he’d felt in his life. She’d been affected too, though she hid her reaction well. Had she picked up static from moving around a large carpeted house all day? Had to be that.
So touch her again and prove it.
Not a chance he was game to take at the moment.
* * *
Cassie wasn’t sure how she made it out of the room without buckling to the floor. She huffed out the air captured in her lungs when the electrical charge from his touch short-circuited coherent thought and action. Fleeing to the safety of the family room, she was thankful to be alone.
Once she could dismiss as an anomaly, twice was... Did he pick up static electricity in his work? Didn’t tradies’ boots counteract that? Logic told her they did, as there’d been no reaction when he’d hugged his aunt.
She didn’t want to be logical. She wanted to be safe from any involvement with Jack Randell or any