Jack Randell in protective mode was going to be tougher than most to placate. He wasn’t budging until he’d been fully informed of her role in his aunt’s objectives. Cassie’s heart warmed at the unmistakable love and concern driving his determination.
‘Every situation is different, depending on the needs of my clients. I never try to influence their choices. Satisfied referrals are my main source of employment.’
His body eased and his furrowed brow cleared.
She continued. ‘All items are listed on a tablet which stays at the client’s home. On completion, they receive a printout and backup on USB then my files are cleared.’
‘Completely?’ His shirt tightened across his chest as he breathed in and squared his shoulders. It was a very I’m-the-male-here action that ought to rankle yet didn’t.
She steeled her resolve. Macho didn’t impress her but...her practical mind appreciated a man this fit would be handy on many of the assignments she accepted. At least his muscles would; the effect his proximity seemed to have on her might not be so welcome.
‘Jackson.’ Mel’s tone was sharp and every sign of intimidation evaporated.
JACK SMILED AT his aunt, let out a huff of breath and picked up his coffee, relishing the strong rich flavour. He’d hold his tongue for now and do his own private investigation of Ms Cassie Clarkson later.
He refocused on the alluring stranger with the steady gaze who unsettled his heartbeat and had him speculating how dark her eyes would grow in desire. How many other men had she swayed with her pacifying manner? Not his affair. Bad choice of word.
He gave her his full attention as she continued, noting liquid had no effect on her unique voice. Did passion?
Focus, Randell.
‘Family contribution and involvement can be emotive, which often leads to controversy. I always recommend nothing is given to charity or thrown away without consultation.’
‘We decided the best plan was to bring everything downstairs for me to check,’ Mel interjected, and he swung towards her.
‘The clothes I want for use will go in the room I’m sleeping in now, and others for keeping can go back to my bedroom. The family will be invited to help themselves from the rest. Now, are you going to play nice or do I ban you until we’ve finished?’
She wouldn’t.
One glance at her beloved, resolute face and he capitulated. Being forbidden to come here was unthinkable, even for a short time. He held both hands up in defeat, his empty mug hanging on one finger.
‘Okay, I surrender. Need help with anything? I’m free for the rest of the day.’ Though his expertise in women’s clothes was more in the line of removing them, not shifting them around.
‘I do have a list of minor repairs you can look at. Would you like to stay for dinner?’
‘Do you need to ask?’ He stood up just as a new symphony came through the speakers set high in two corners. ‘It’s good to hear Strauss again. I feel a definite urge to waltz you round the furniture right now.’
Mel laughed. ‘Give my leg a little longer, and I’ll accept.’ She rose gracefully to her feet, pride in her voice as she told Cassie, ‘I taught all his generation proper ballroom dancing.’
Jack’s heart swelled at her lithe movements, belying her age and the trauma she’d been through. He prayed she’d stay as bright and feisty for many years. Seeing Cassie sneak an extra chocolate biscuit as she got to her feet, he raised his eyebrows. She noticed and her eyes sparkled, daring him to comment as she took a bite.
He let his gaze flick over her slender figure then grinned. Dipping his head, he gestured for her to precede him to the door, admiring the delectable view as she did.
He prided himself on his judgement of character, improved through the years of buying and renting properties, and honed by the few instances of being conned. It failed him where Cassie Clarkson was concerned, and he didn’t want to dwell too much on the reason. He’d treat her with respect and ignore his attraction, though keeping an eye on her wouldn’t be hard to take at all.
Having strangers think he wasn’t as affluent as Mel or others suited him fine. He relished the hands-on work he did equally with the intellectual stimulation of the stock market. He enjoyed the easy relationship with the people he did maintenance jobs for, and disliked the fact it would lose its informality if they found out he was also their landlord.
Flaunting his initial successes, even to his family, had seemed conceited so he played it down, not worried if others believed he wasted his potential. He understood how money influenced people’s attitude, having let it rule him in his teens. Personal ambition had driven him to seek after-school employment and invest in shares.
He’d soon discovered that for some girls his name and the prospect of money took priority over the person behind them. Now wiser, and matured by experience, he wanted people to admire him because of who he was, and how he acted, not for the numbers on his tax return.
After discussing the precise, neatly written task list with Mel, he went to fetch appropriate tools from his vehicle. On his return, he heard voices from the family room and glanced in. One of the racks was now almost full, there were evening gowns on the second, and more clothes lay on the covered billiard table against the side wall.
He couldn’t hear what they said but their mingled laughter tipped the scales in Cassie’s favour. Mel was happier than she’d been since the car accident. He backed away and went to tighten the hinges on the kitchen cupboard doors, wishing it were a complicated task to keep his mind from straying to bold walnut-brown eyes and kissable lips.
* * *
Cassie made four trips to one of the spare bedrooms for classical evening wear that sparked a slight twinge of envy. She loved the textures, colours and styling of brand names she recognised from magazines. Her yearly spending on new clothing was probably less than some of these dresses or outfits had cost on their own.
During her long meeting with Mel over lunch in the city, and in less than a day here, she’d gained an impression of an ever-expanding well-educated, affluent family with skilled professions and good standing in the community.
It was also obvious they were close-knit and devoted. She’d seen the same in many families, though had no idea how it really felt to have multiple relatives. There had always been friends to play and share birthdays with but over time many had changed school or moved away.
Narelle had been a constant friend since her family had moved into the neighbourhood when they were both eleven. Within the first week at high school, they’d formed a group with two boys and another girl, the bonds strong to this day. Their families had always welcomed her in their homes, encouraging her to be part of their everyday lives and never giving her reason to feel like an outsider.
Yet much of the time she’d felt as if she had an internal barrier preventing her from allowing herself to completely become part of it all. It was as if she were an audience member who had wandered up onto the stage and didn’t know her lines but enjoyed watching from up close.
At odd moments in her youth, usually late at night, she’d sometimes fantasise about having a real sibling. She had never, before or now, had any interest or curiosity about her birth parents. Not even when she’d lost Mum and felt completely alone for a while—still did on occasion, no matter how much support her friends gave her.
This was the main reason she’d rented out the home she’d inherited and moved in with Brad and Phil three years ago. They were as close to brothers as she’d ever have, and would probably tease her mercilessly if she mentioned that spark when she and Jack shook hands.
He