Captivated By The Enigmatic Tycoon

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 was an enigma, born into the elite class of Adelaide yet he’d chosen a trade for his profession. As she went through the foyer, she could hear him humming in the kitchen. It reminded her of Mel’s excitement after he’d phoned earlier to say he’d arrived home late yesterday and would call in today.

‘He’s been my mainstay since Bob died. Could have joined the family law firm but studied business management instead and passed with honours. I don’t know why he chose to work in property repair and maintenance, though he is buying houses that he rents out.’

She’d said the latter as if it were the epitome of success.

‘He can be very reticent at times, and I’m not sure how many he has, three, maybe more by now, plus his home at Port Noarlunga. I just wish he’d find someone special and settle down. Casual short-term affairs, even if they end without acrimony, are no substitute for a long, happy marriage. I’m sure that mishap... No, that’s in the past.’

As far as Cassie was concerned, any attractive male his age who’d never come near to being engaged or married had to have serious commitment issues. Her own situation didn’t count. Being illegitimate, alone and knowing nothing of her paternal heritage made her wary of close relationships.

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 other man of his social status. Conceived during an illicit one-night stand, she knew exactly what she was, and how she’d be regarded by elite society. And how easily a man’s declared devotion could evaporate when tested.

Jack’s appearance and actions gave the impression of a man working his way up the financial ladder, but he had wealthy connections and he’d probably inherit. Whatever the incentive for his current lifestyle, it would be an easy switch to his family’s world of fancy cars and fine dining. She’d never have the luxury of such a choice—her world was compact sedans and home cooking.

Letting out a light self-deprecating laugh, she walked over to the desk where she’d left her laptop next to Mel’s computer and printer. Any spark of attraction he’d felt would dissipate at her lack of encouragement.

He’d have jobs waiting to be done during the day and friends to catch up with at night so he probably wouldn’t be around much. On Thursday afternoon she’d give Mel her printouts plus a list of exclusive second-hand fashion boutiques, and drive away. That just left tonight to resist his innate charm.

Her body relaxed as she slow breathed, doing her steadying count to fourteen and repeating her mantra. Stay strong. Keep distance. She resumed checking labels and sizes, mystified by a world where haute couture and fashion changes were all-important. Why should someone be judged by the brand or style of the clothes they wore?

Neat comfortable jeans and muted tops or jumpers were her standard uniform. Her casual sneakers, boots or safety footwear were a far cry from the large array of high-heeled shoes she’d seen upstairs. They and others with sturdy low heels would be brought down and sorted for the female family members to view.

CHAPTER THREE

JACK WAS MULLING over his conversation with Cassie when he found Mel setting the table in the dining room. His heart lifted at the sight of the flower centrepiece and the crystal glasses beside each place setting, as they’d always been at dinner before her accident. A few stupid seconds of driving inattention to check a text and a teenager’s car had veered towards the kerb. Overcorrecting had sent it slamming into Mel’s daughter’s passenger door. And Mel.

The weeks in hospital and drawn-out rehabilitation, with a broken leg and lacerations on her arm and across the top of her chest, had taken a toll. Table decorations didn’t sound like much but he thanked whatever gods there were that she seemed to be embracing the life she’d loved again.

Not being able to drive, stand for long to cook and having to convert the small lounge into a downstairs bedroom had been hard enough. Being reliant on others for everything when she’d struggled so hard to be independent after Bob’s fatal heart attack had almost broken her spirit.

If having the distraction of Cassie Clarkson here for a few days was the price to pay for getting his beloved Aunt Mel back to her old self, so be it.

‘Going classy, huh? Do I need to race home and change?’

Mel’s smile lit up her face, and her eyes shone. ‘I thought Cassie deserved it. She’s a sweet girl, and I like her. What we’re doing is good for me, Jack.’

He walked over and hugged her. ‘I wholeheartedly approve of anything that makes you happy, Mel.’

‘Even if I take it further?’

He pulled back to see her expression. ‘As in?’

‘As in asking Cassie for a quote for a full downsize. Not all at once—over a few months, in between her other contracts. That way it won’t be so tiring and easier to accept.’

A full house sorting? The first step to moving, selling her home. Life-changing for her, and she wanted his approval. This was a chance to make a small repayment for her and Bob’s unconditional support.

‘If it’s what you want and feel you’re ready for, I’m with you one hundred percent. You know you can rely on me, Mel.’

He kissed her cheek and stepped back. ‘Do I have time to take Sam for a run before we eat?’

‘Twenty minutes.’ She patted his cheek as if he were a schoolboy again. ‘Go.’

He went.

* * *

As he pounded along the footpath his mind churned with Mel’s revelation. He’d fallen into the trap of believing that Mel’s continuing recovery meant life would one day be as it always had been. Though he’d hoped she’d relent and have someone move in with her for company and safety.

She, Bob and their home had been his lifeline when home trauma threatened to derail his carefully planned objectives. He’d managed to get through the usual rebellious stage of drinking and partying without irreparable damage to his reputation.

He’d refused to study for the degree his father had wanted him to take, or to join one of the Randell established businesses, which had caused deep-seated angst. His dream to build a property empire had only been shared with Bob. During their discussions in the garden workshop, his great-uncle had taught him how to repair and maintain a home and its contents. He’d also instilled Jack with respect for his tools and the knowledge of their care and maintenance.

He and Mel had encouraged him when he’d got his first after-school job, shelf-stacking at a local supermarket, and celebrated with him after he signed the contract to buy his first rental property. His one small consolation when Bob died was that he’d shared in every success, and had been thrilled when Jack had become a millionaire. Even if it was only on paper or consisting of bricks and mortar.

Thinking of that gentle man caused his heart to ache as if he’d run a marathon. He pushed through the pain. They’d always put his needs first; now it was time for him to man up and do the same for Mel.

Even she didn’t know the true extent of his current finances. Having everyone believe he was buying a few properties and earning his daily living in maintenance kept him grounded and his demons at bay. Even then he could never be sure if it was him or the knowledge of his family’s assets that attracted women. Tara had made it clear that she’d never date anyone she considered below her social status.

Mel’s experiences had further proved that wealth drew frauds and con artists. So many people wanted easy money rather than work for it. Did Cassie? Was she wary of him as Mel’s protector or as a man? Would her attitude change if she found out about his new business venture?

Sometime soon, when he took the next—this time gigantic—corporate step, he’d tell his family, prior to an official announcement. If the current bank negotiations were successful, he’d be purchasing a small suburban shopping centre and have the capital to extend and improve it.

* * *

Cassie stood in the shower, combing conditioner through her hair, trying to make sense of the intensity of her responses to Jack. Her normally guarded nature had abandoned her and she had no idea why.

There’d been interest in his captivating eyes despite his reservations about her presence here. For a second or two she wished she’d packed at least one dress and some make-up to wear in the evenings. A mild flirtation with a handsome eligible man to give her self-esteem a boost was tempting.

What was she thinking?

An hour or so ago, she’d been grateful their association would be short-lived. The man scrambled her brain. Clients’ family members were taboo. Even those with alluring grass-green eyes, football hero muscles and unmanageable hair.

* * *

She was blown away by the table décor when she helped Mel carry the steaming dishes into the dining room. There was even a bottle of wine in an ice bucket near the place settings at one end. This all proved the gulf between her life and theirs. Most evenings at home, she ate from a lap tray while watching television.

Her stomach rumbled as she breathed in the mouth-watering aroma of grilled steak and onion sauce. Until that moment, she hadn’t felt hungry at all.

‘I’m having rosé to drink,’ Mel said as she filled the water glasses. ‘How about you? Jack will probably get a beer from the fridge after his run with Sam.’

‘A run? In his work boots?’

‘He always keeps running shoes in his ute, and it’s a regular outing for Sam. He sulks if any of the younger visitors don’t have time for at least a short walk.’ Mel settled at the head of the table.

‘Rosé sounds nice.’ Cassie poured the two drinks, sat on her hostess’s right and took a slow look around the room. She hadn’t seen it, apart from a quick glance in on her arrival.

The antique mantelpiece, the polished sideboard and two of the papered walls held photographs of family. In here they were casual or celebratory. In the family room, school and sporting pictures covered all four walls. Jack was easily recognisable in many of them.

‘Does Jack call in often?’ She oughtn’t to ask, but couldn’t hold back.

‘It depends on his work. Though he lives twenty minutes from here, most of his regular clients are in the northern and eastern suburbs. You understand the drawbacks of driving that distance.’

Cassie sipped her drink and pondered. Travelling time plus fuel-inflated costs influenced choices, especially for pensioners. Word-of-mouth referrals meant the majority of her clients lived north of Adelaide, as she did. Mel’s insistence she stayed the Tuesday to Thursday nights in her Woodcroft home meant her quote had been favourable.

‘He wasn’t too pleased at your sleeping here. He tends to be cautious where I’m concerned. I told him he should be pleased I wasn’t alone.’

‘It’s good he isn’t sensitive about showing how much he cares.’

‘True, I love that the family are so considerate, just don’t like to be reminded I’m getting older. I’ve warned Jack but he can be tenacious, Cassie. He’ll try to sneak subtle questions into general conversation.’

He already had, and wasn’t subtle at all.

‘He can ask anything he likes.’ She didn’t have to answer.

Sam’s bark echoed from the hall. A moment later he trotted in and curled onto a rug. Jack followed shortly behind, wearing a clean green T-shirt, his boots replaced by black and red runners. Uncapped bottle in hand, he stooped to kiss Mel’s forehead.

‘Sam was pretty keen today; didn’t stop once.’

He sat opposite Cassie, took a deep swig of beer and surveyed her with penetrating interest, causing her to stretch her shoulders. Neither he nor Mel seemed to find it incongruous for him to drink from the bottle at a formally set dinner.

As if reading her thoughts, he carefully poured the remaining liquid into the glass by his cutlery. His sudden grin tripped her heartbeat and sent her pulse racing. She so had to find a way to combat his charm.

‘Maybe you should come with us next time. The way your skin glows, I figure you run on a regular basis.’

He thought she glowed? How could one sentence in a casual tone send tiny quivers of pleasure dancing down her spine? Her fingers trembled as she sipped her wine, hoping she didn’t choke from the sudden tightness in her throat.

Unless all three housemates were home she ate simple meals and salad. This setting was perfect, the grilled steak delicious and the vegetables slightly crunchy, the way she preferred them. This was how she imagined dining in a fancy restaurant would feel, except Jack would be dressed in appropriate attire.