‘Sixteen or eighteen years old, and perfectly capable of understanding and accepting that death is merely a part of life,’ she assured him firmly. ‘Especially when he’s enjoyed ten or twelve years of companionship and unconditional love!’
Unconditional love, Jackson mused. Now, there was a concept not too many adults understood. Well, not the adults Jackson came into contact with anyway.
Over the years he had found that everyone had their own agenda. Wealth. Success. Stardom. Whatever they believed would give them the happiness they craved. Well, Jackson had all three of those things, and yet he hadn’t known even a glimmer of real happiness until Danny had come into his life five years ago. Because Danny gave him that unconditional love Bree was talking about? Probably. But, damn it, a puppy …? Did he really have to let Danny keep the damned puppy?
‘He really won’t be any trouble,’ Bree persevered eagerly, sensing a weakening in Jackson’s resolve. The ‘D’ word had once again worked its magic charm on him. ‘Your mother also brought a basket for the puppy to sleep in, and lots of food, and bowls, and brushes for grooming him—’
‘Okay, okay, okay!’ Jackson’s voice rose in volume with each successive ‘okay’. ‘But the first time he gets into my camera equipment he’s banished outside to the garden shed.’
‘Woo-hoo! You’re being allowed to stay, puppy!’ Bree held the furry bundle up in the air.
Jackson watched in total surprise as his usually calm and unruffled assistant did a little victory dance around the sitting room. He felt completely taken aback by Bree’s obvious happiness and the way it lit up her face, making her look almost beautiful: those smoky-grey eyes glowed, her cheeks were flushed, and her lips curved into a wide and happy smile. They were full and slightly pouty lips, he realised with a frown. The sort of lips that could drive a man crazy if applied to the right part of his anatomy …
‘Isn’t it time you got back to work?’ Jackson rasped harshly as he straightened abruptly to glare down at her.
Bree came to an abrupt halt, the light fading from her eyes, the colour fading from her cheeks, and those sensual lips no longer smiling but once again set in their usual line of disapproval.
Jackson could deal with Bree’s disapproval—hell, he was happy to deal with her disapproval! What he didn’t need, didn’t want to deal with, was that inexplicable, insidious physical awareness he had felt towards her just now …
‘I’m going to get Danny from school,’ he glowered.
‘Fine.’ She nodded dismissively, no longer looking at him but at the puppy held comfortably in her arms.
No, it wasn’t ‘fine’ at all, Jackson thought to himself, frowning as he walked slowly outside to his car.
Bree had worked for him for almost a year. Lived in his house. Spent time with his son. She wasn’t just good at her job, she blended perfectly into his life—organising his appointments, taking his clothes to be laundered, deciding on the menus for the week with the housekeeper, Mrs Holmes, looking after Danny when Jackson had to be elsewhere. It was like having a wife without any of the complications. Or the sex, of course—
Where the hell had that thought come from?
Wherever it had originated, it could go right back there again. It would ruin everything if he even started to think of Bree in a sexual way!
In fact over the past year Jackson had made a point of never seeing or treating Bree as anything more than his assistant and occasionally Danny’s babysitter.
To the extent, he now realised, that he had never even bothered to enquire about her private life before she came to work for him. He had likewise had no reason to enquire about it during the past year: to his certain knowledge Bree didn’t have a private life now. She never went out in the evenings. If she had family and friends she never invited them to her apartment.
Moments ago, when she had danced so spontaneously around the sitting room with the puppy in her arms—when she had looked so nearly beautiful—for the first time Jackson had found himself wondering exactly why that was …
‘NOW, aren’t you glad you changed your mind and decided to let Danny keep the puppy?’ Bree murmured softly, smiling down indulgently at the little boy and the puppy an hour or so later.
She had come to tell Jackson that she was leaving for the day, and the first thing she’d seen was Danny and the puppy rolling about on the carpet together—luckily avoiding contact with the eight-foot-tall Christmas tree standing in the corner of the room surrounded by presents! Danny’s happy chuckles filled the room as the puppy licked his nose.
‘The jury’s still out on that one,’ Jackson muttered, looking up from where he slouched in one of the armchairs. ‘Beau,’ he growled across at Bree. ‘He named the damned puppy Beau!’
Bree had to bite her lip to stop herself from laughing at his obvious disgust. ‘Ah, how sweet—he named his puppy after you!’
‘Very funny!’ Jackson rose lithely to his feet before striding across to where she stood in the doorway.
‘It suits him, don’t you think?’ Bree couldn’t resist teasing.
‘No, I don’t think!’ Jackson scowled down at her.
She looked up at him quizzically. ‘My, you’re in a cheery mood this evening!’
Jackson was well aware of his dour mood. Just as he was aware that the main reason behind that mood was standing in the doorway.
He felt surprisingly little lingering annoyance over Danny’s puppy; anyone with eyes could see how happy Danny was with his grandmother’s Christmas gift. No, he was willing to admit defeat where the puppy was concerned. Danny was so excited, what with Christmas being only six days away, that Jackson very much doubted whether he would be able to prise the puppy out of his son’s arms now!
It was that sudden stirring of interest in Bree earlier—interest in her past as well as her present—that had continued to unsettle Jackson for the last couple of hours. It had unsettled him to the extent that he felt the need for company. Female company.
‘Bree, could you sit with Danny later this evening while I go out?’
‘Ah …’ A perplexed frown creased her brow. ‘Ordinarily you know I would have been happy to, but … Actually, I’m going out myself this evening,’ she explained reluctantly.
‘Your offer to take care of the puppy didn’t last very long, did it?’
‘I believe my exact words were “during the day”,’ she reminded him primly.
Was it Jackson’s imagination or was that a blush spreading across Bree’s slightly freckled cheeks? A guilty blush? As if she were hiding something …
He raised his eyebrows. ‘Can it be that you’re going out on a date this evening?’
‘Well, there’s no need to look so surprised, Jackson!’ She was suddenly irritated. ‘I’m twenty-six, not eighty-six!’
That might be the case, but as far as Jackson was aware not only did Bree never go out in the evenings, but she hadn’t been out on a date since she’d come to work for him a year ago. Which, when he thought about it, was decidedly odd.
And Jackson had thought about it—for the past