A year would give her time to look around for other opportunities she might take up in the future, should this deal with Jack Maguire turn sour. Right now she simply didn’t know the heart of the man. Only time would tell her if the connection she felt between them could develop into the kind of relationship she’d love to have with him. A year would be long enough to find out.
“Okay. I’ll take that contract,” she said decisively, her eyes challenging his integrity on every word of it.
He grinned, his delight in her acceptance making her heart dance in a wild hip-hop. “I’ll set it up right now,” he said, whipping a small silver cell phone from his suit pocket.
He spoke to Victor Newell’s secretary, dictating the terms he had outlined to Sally and asking for the contract to be drawn up and ready for their signatures by the time they’d finished lunch. He cocked a challenging eyebrow at her as he put the ‘phone away. “Satisfied?”
Her mouth had gone dry, drained of moisture by a last-minute attack of nerves. “Yes,” she croaked, acutely aware that she was not only signing a year of her life to him, but quite possibly making a permanent break from the woman who had adopted and raised her.
An ungrateful daughter.
A serpent daughter, dancing with the devil.
But hadn’t her mother brought this situation upon herself by being so set against Jack? If she’d accepted him as a stepson, let him into their lives …
“So let’s now drink to something good coming out of this,” Jack purred at her, lifting his glass of champagne in a toast.
She snatched up her own glass and clinked it with his. “Something good,” she repeated with reckless fervour, and drank, wanting the bubbles to go straight to her brain and blow out all the worries about taking a wrong jump and rushing headlong into bad territory.
CHAPTER FIVE
LUNCH over, contract signed, Jack accompanied Sally down to street level and offered her a limousine ride home.
She quickly declined, preferring to make her own way rather than arrive in grand style, looking as though she was revelling in her defection to the man who was taking over everything. Including her. More or less.
“Thank you for the lunch and the contract,” she said, offering her hand in a businesslike fashion.
His eyes simmered with sexy amusement as he wrapped his fingers around hers. “Call me if you have any problems you can’t resolve yourself,” he said with a quirky little smile.
Up until that moment he hadn’t touched her. The warmth and strength of his hand, the confidence in his eyes, the whole aura of a master of manipulation at work, made Sally acutely aware of how vulnerable she was to this man’s power.
“You put me in charge. I’ll be in charge,” she asserted, not wanting to appear weak in any way whatsoever. “When can I expect you to visit?”
The smile broadened into a grin that reawakened the butterflies in her stomach. “I’ll let you know.”
“I’ll need fair warning if you want me to put out the welcome mat.”
“Of course,” he agreed. “I shall enjoy the thrill of anticipation.”
Her heart started leaping all over the place. Don’t think about it. Just get on with it, her mind frantically dictated. “Well, I’ll see you when I see you,” she almost gabbled. “Goodbye for now, Jack.”
She quickly withdrew her hand and spun away from him, walking blindly down Martin Place to Wynyard Station, guiltily conscious of the thrill of anticipation playing merry hell with her female hormones.
A train to Wyong.
Call home to get someone to pick me up.
Work out how to face my mother and Jane with all this.
Her mind kept reiterating what it had to concentrate on, trying to overcome the wild dance of nervous excitement Jack Maguire had set in motion. She had to deal with him in the future. Somehow. But right now she had very immediate concerns that needed her full attention.
It took her most of the two-hour train journey to sober up completely and get her head around how best to present the deal to her mother. On a purely common-sense basis, it meant one daughter would not be a financial drain on her. Neither would the other if Jane agreed to Sally’s plan. The big problem was … would her mother be in the mood to listen? And was she going to accept eviction?
Sally suspected a major tantrum was going on at home. When she’d called to request a pick-up from the station, Jeanette Deering, the housekeeper, had sounded badly distracted, hemming and hawing anxiously before deciding her husband, Graham, could meet the train—Graham, who was supposed to maintain security at the property, keeping out trespassers. Like Jack Maguire. Did they already know Jack couldn’t be kept out anymore?
When she walked out of the station at Wyong, Graham had his Land Rover handily parked and his big frame was propped against the driver’s door, beefy arms folded, a grim look on his darkly weathered face. He and Jeanette had been in her father’s employ at the Yarramalong property all Sally’s life and she was fond of both of them. Never before had Graham greeted her without a smile.
“A bad day. A bad, bad day,” he muttered as he rounded the vehicle to open the passenger door for her. “Don’t know what we’re all going to do now, Sally.”
“Mum told you about the takeover?”
“Didn’t have to. There’s a security van parked at the gate. Some legal bloke served an eviction notice.” He shook his head. “Seems like there’s no fighting it. And Lady Ellen sure isn’t taking kindly to having her home taken from her.”
Which was probably a huge understatement, Sally thought, her chest tightening at the prospect of delivering her news. At least it would be good for the staff on the property, she assured herself, giving them another year to sort out their lives. She waited until they were on the road to Yarramalong before saying, “You can stay on at the property if you want to, Graham. You and Jeanette and the rest of the staff.”
“No.” He sighed dolefully. “Have to look for another position, Sally. Lady Ellen told us she can’t afford to pay our salaries anymore.”
Sally took a deep breath and baldly announced, “Jack Maguire will pay them. He’s already set up the money for that to be done. Pay me, too, for staying on and managing the property. He wants to keep everything as it is, so you don’t have to go.”
He threw her a startled look. “But Lady Ellen said …”
“I’ve signed a contract with him,” Sally stated firmly. “I assure you what I’m saying is true. He’ll keep you on. Only my mother has to go.”
He sucked in a long breath, returned his attention to the road, then muttered, “Lady Ellen won’t like it.”
“I can’t help that. It isn’t negotiable. Eviction for eviction,” Sally explained, repeating Jack’s words.
“I was the one who turned him away all those years ago,” Graham said worriedly.
“On my mother’s orders. I’m sure he doesn’t blame you for it.”
Silence while he chewed over the situation. “Jack Maguire … he’s not going to live here?”
“No. He’ll visit from time to time. That’s all.”
“And you stay on.”
“Yes. The contract is for a year.”
“A year …” More cogitating, then, “I reckon Jeanette and I will stay on for a while. See how it goes.”
Sally