Second Chance Proposal: A Man Without Mercy / Bring It On / Rancher to the Rescue

Common sense demanded she step back from this whole situation for a while until she could think more clearly. All that great sex today seemed to have addled her brain, because agreeing to become Jack’s girlfriend at this stage could be a foolish move. Rather like jumping from the frying pan into the fire.

Yet, despite all that common sense reasoning, she still wanted to agree. Quite desperately. It was one thing to say no to his taking candid photographs of her; she’d always hated having her photograph taken. It was quite another thing to say no to more sex with him. Which was what would happen if she refused to become his girlfriend. Jack was not the kind of man who warmed to rejection. He’d probably take back his offer of this job as well.

Of course, she could always make an alternative suggestion...

The idea which popped into her head was truly wicked. But oh so tempting, her heart quickening as the audacious counter-proposal formed in her brain. Hopefully, Jack would agree. Oh, surely he would. He was a man, after all. And what she would be proposing was every man’s fantasy.

Her mouth still dried with what she was about to suggest.

‘For pity’s sake say something, Vivienne,’ Jack finally snapped. ‘You must know how much I detest indecision.’

‘I do too,’ she threw back at him. ‘So, yes, it’s way too soon for me to consider being any man’s girlfriend.’ Especially one who’s already admitted to being emotionally bankrupt, she thought, but didn’t say. ‘I’m not even keen on thinking of us as lovers. You and I both know that love has little to do with what we’ve been doing today. I’m not in love with you any more than you are with me. But there’s no denying I love having sex with you. More than I would ever have thought possible.’

Vivienne could not help but notice this last statement of hers didn’t go down too well. But Jack had claimed he liked honesty and she was only being honest.

‘I dare say you might be shocked by what I am about to suggest...’

‘I doubt anything you say now is going to shock me, Vivienne,’ he said very drily. ‘So suggest away.’

Vivienne buttoned up her blouse then took a deep breath before going on. ‘Firstly let me say I would very much like to do this job,’ she began, waving her hand up at the façade of Francesco’s Folly. ‘But, as you yourself said, it would be impossible for us to work together now without sleeping together. So, for the duration of this project, I would like to become your mistress.’

His head snapped back, his eyebrows arching at the same time. ‘I guess I was wrong. You have shocked me. So, exactly what kind of mistress did you have in mind? The kind who dresses in shiny black leather and carries a whip?’

‘Don’t be silly,’ she retorted.

‘In that case, you must mean the kind I install in a flash apartment with all the bills paid, in exchange for which I get to do whatever I like to you whenever I like to do it.’

‘I’m not that kind of girl, either.’

‘That’s a relief,’ Jack said.

‘I just meant the kind of mistress who’s kept a secret. I don’t want anyone and everyone knowing that we’re sleeping together.’

‘Why not? It wouldn’t bother me if people knew.’

‘Well, it would bother me.’

‘Why?’

‘Because it would lead to questions from friends and family that I don’t want to answer.’ Not that she had much of either. But Jack did.

‘You’re worried they might think badly of you,’ he said. Quite intuitively, Vivienne thought.

She stood up. ‘Yes, of course,’ she said. Aside from how soon it was after Daryl, everyone she knew thought she didn’t like Jack. They’d wonder what had come over her. They’d probably think she’d lost it.

Jack frowned. ‘You wouldn’t have to worry about that if you became my girlfriend.’

‘But I don’t want to become your girlfriend, Jack,’ she said, feeling both irritated and frustrated with him. ‘I just want to have sex with you, okay?’

Once again Jack looked none too pleased with her. ‘Okay,’ he bit out. ‘Where?’

‘What do you mean, where?’

‘Just exactly that. Where are we going to do it? Not your place, I gather—or your good friend and neighbour Marion would twig, and then you’d have to answer those questions you don’t want to answer. So that leaves my place, or a hotel room.’

Jack was taken aback when Vivienne blushed. Lord, but she was full of contradictions. In truth, he didn’t know what to make of her today. Same as himself; why wasn’t he happy with her mistress idea? Why was he trying to needle her? Nothing made sense to him any more. No, he knew exactly what was bugging him: his ego had been dented. His considerable ego.

Get a grip, Jack, he lectured himself sternly. You’re onto a good wicket here. If you don’t stuff it up, that is. Think of the positives: all the sex you want with none of the complications. No clinging. No commitment. No having to say you love her. Exactly what the doctor ordered. So put aside your emotions and take a more pragmatic approach to Vivienne’s offer which, if you think about it sensibly, was really rather exciting.

‘Obviously that idea doesn’t appeal,’ he said, trying hard not to sound sarcastic. ‘Maybe you should rethink the idea about my getting you that flash apartment. I can afford it and it would solve the “where?” problem.’

As much as Vivienne was tempted to say yes—it would solve the ‘where?’ problem—she could see that such an arrangement went against her highly independent nature. Not to mention her conscience. She didn’t want to feel Jack was paying her to have sex with him.

‘Like I said, Jack, I’m not that sort of girl. Look, I have an alternative suggestion which I think would work well for both of us.’

Jack smothered the sigh which threatened to escape his lungs.

‘Okay,’ he said. ‘Fire away.’

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

‘THAT’S THE BEST news you could have told me,’ Marion said.

They were sitting having morning tea in Vivienne’s kitchen, Marion having dropped in to see how things had gone with Jack the previous day. Naturally Vivienne hadn’t told Marion the whole rather shocking truth, just that she had accepted Jack’s offer to redesign the interior of Francesco’s Folly, as well as her plan to live at the place whilst the job was being done. Though that wouldn’t be happening until contracts were exchanged in a couple of weeks.

Jack had seemed somewhat at odds with her live-in idea at first, until she’d pointed out that he could come visit her there every weekend, leaving him free during the week to concentrate on work. She’d boldly stated that she would be worth the wait, promising to be at his sexual beck and call for those two days. By the time Jack had dropped her back at her place late last night, he’d warmed to the idea, especially after having tested out what she meant by being at his sexual beck and call...

Vivienne, by then on the other hand, had been bombarded by a host of second thoughts. But she didn’t voice them out loud, her sated body not having had second thoughts at all. She’d slept like a log last night and had woken feeling marvellous, any lingering qualms easily pushed aside.

Already she was looking forward to seeing Jack again tonight. He’d promised to take her somewhere discreet, although he’d argued that their having dinner together could easily be explained away as a business dinner. She was, after all, going to be working for him.

And under him. And on top of him, he’d added wickedly.

Vivienne struggled to contain the heat which flooded her veins at the memory of all Jack had demanded of her yesterday. Positions which she supposed weren’t all that shocking, but which she’d never experienced before, let alone enjoyed. She was well aware of the woman being on top, but had never thought of it being done with the woman’s back to her lover. But, oh...she’d loved it that way. Loved riding him with her hands clasped around the rungs of the brass bed-end. Loved it that she could not see him watching her. That way, she’d been able to lose herself in her pleasure, uncaring of anything but the gathering of tension deep within her body. Had she screamed out loud when she’d come? Yes. Yes, she had. She was sure she had.

Oh God.

Vivienne swallowed.

‘Now I can go away next week without worrying about you,’ Marion was saying.

Vivienne blinked. ‘What was that? You’re going away?’ she asked a bit blankly.

Marion shook her head at her. ‘I thought you might have forgotten, what with everything that’s happened. I’m going to Europe for a holiday, remember? London first to visit some of my long-lost rellies, then over to Paris, and then I’m going for a cruise down the Rhine. Be gone nearly six weeks. You’ve no idea how much I’m looking forward to it. It’s been a long time since I had a decent holiday like that. But none of that for now. Tell me more about this house Jack bought. What’s its name again?’

‘Francesco’s Folly.’

‘Sounds rather romantic.’

Vivienne laughed. ‘It’s nothing of the kind,’ she said, thinking that she would never associate that house with romance. Just sex, along with lust and uncontrollable passion.

Vivienne suddenly frowned. How odd. They were not words which she’d ever associated with herself. She’d never fallen in lust before or suffered from uncontrollable passion. But she was definitely in lust with Jack Stone. And yes, when she was in his arms, she became uncontrollable with passion. She could hardly wait for tonight to come.

‘I have some photos of it, if you’d like to look at them,’ Vivienne offered. Perhaps unwisely, as it turned out. Because she couldn’t look at the various rooms without thinking of what they’d done in them, especially that spare bedroom with that old brass bed in it.

‘It’s going to be a big job,’ Marion said. ‘You’ll be away for weeks. Maybe even months!’

‘Possibly,’ Vivienne agreed, all the while thinking she didn’t care how long it would take.

Marion gave her one of her rather sharp looks. It was hard to put something over on Marion. She was very good at reading between the lines.

‘I was somewhat surprised by Jack Stone,’ she said. ‘He wasn’t nearly the ogre you’ve painted him out to be. I rather liked him.’

‘Yes, well, he can be quite nice when he wants something from you,’ she said drily. Which was very true.

‘He’s also better looking than I thought he’d be,’ Marion added.

‘He’s passable, I suppose,’ Vivienne said offhandedly as she sipped her coffee.

‘More than passable. But then, he’s my type. I’ve always liked manly men. My Bob was a manly man,’ Marion said in that wistful tone which warned Vivienne Marion was about to get maudlin over her long-dead husband. Normally, Vivienne didn’t mind listening to Marion’s memories of happier times, but not today. She didn’t want to hear about what true love felt like. And she didn’t want to think about lost loves.

Her phone ringing at that point was a blessed distraction until she picked it up and saw it was Jack calling. From the frying pan into the fire, she thought as her heart started racing and her head worried about Marion twigging what was going on between them.

‘Hello,’ she said, deliberately leaving out Jack’s name.

‘And hello back,’ he said. ‘Did you sleep well? I know I did.’

Vivienne could see Marion looking at her with curiosity in her eyes.

‘It’s Jack,’ she mouthed, as though it was nothing.

‘How nice of you to get back to me so quickly about the door,’ she said aloud to him.

Jack got the message straight away. ‘Ah...you have someone with you. Marion, I presume?’

‘Wow, that was quick,’ she said and he laughed. ‘So I can expect the man to come with the new door tomorrow,’ she went on in a matter-of-fact tone. ‘What time?’

‘Well, certainly not at seven in the morning,’ he said. ‘You’ll be too wrecked to get up that early after what I have in mind for you tonight.’

Vivienne swallowed convulsively as she struggled not to blush. But, oh, the heat which immediately flooded her body at his highly provocative words...

‘Noon will be fine,’ she said, amazed at how cool and calm she actually sounded. Who would have imagined she could be such a good actress? ‘Thank you, Jack. And thank you again for offering me such a wonderful job. I’m looking forward to it.’

He laughed again. ‘Not as much as I am, Miss Cool. Now, as much as I am enjoying this titillating conversation, I have to go now. Work calls. I’ll pick you up at seven tonight. And don’t wear anything too sexy, if you want to pass it off as a business dinner.’

Vivienne opened her mouth to reply but he’d already hung up. Which was just as well, with Marion listening avidly.

‘Fine,’ she said into the dead phone. ‘Thank you again. Goodbye.’

‘I think he likes you,’ Marion said straight away.

Vivienne put her phone back down on the table before answering.

‘What makes you say that?’

‘Feminine instinct. I mean, he could have employed any competent interior designer to do up this house of his, but he came looking specifically for you.’

As much as there was a part of Vivienne which was flattered by the truth in Marion’s statement, she wasn’t about to fall victim to thinking Jack had had anything but work in mind when he’d come in search of her the other day. What had happened between them was as unexpected to him as it was to her.

‘Yes, well, he knows my work, doesn’t he? He knows I’ll do a good job.’ And you’ll give him good head at the same time, came the truly wicked thought.

Vivienne still could not believe how much she liked doing that. It was a mystery all right. But Jack’s motivations weren’t a mystery. He was a typical man who could enjoy sex without having his heart involved. Yes, he liked her, but he didn’t care for her to any great degree. He certainly didn’t love her. And she was strangely comfortable with that. Sleeping together whilst they worked together was as much a bonus for her as it was for him. She refused to feel guilty about it any more. Or to continue to worry that she was on some kind of perverse rebound trip.

‘I’m still not convinced,’ Marion said. ‘And you know what? I think you like him back.’

Vivienne smiled at her. ‘Hard not to like a man who brought me flowers then gave me such a dream job.’ Not to mention countless orgasms. ‘But you’re right. I do like him a lot better now than I did.’

‘Hmm. He’s single, isn’t he?’

‘Yes. And wants to stay that way.’

‘Does he have a girlfriend?’

What to say to that? ‘Yes, he does,’ she said at last. Impossible to use the word ‘mistress’.

‘Oh. Pity. What’s she like, do you know?’

‘Not really. I’ve only met her the once.’ Yesterday, when she’d been suddenly transformed into Vivienne the Vamp.

‘Is she blonde?’

‘No. A redhead.’

‘Oh. Like you. Beautiful? Sexy?’

Vivienne shrugged. ‘I dare say Jack thinks so.’

‘But you don’t.’

‘She’s okay, I guess. She’s a working girl. A designer, like me. Jack met her through work.’ Lord, this word game she was playing was getting a bit complicated. Vivienne wished now she hadn’t started it.

Marion snorted. ‘I suppose she’s hoping he falls in love with her and marries her in the end.’

Vivienne almost laughed, because nothing could have been further from the truth. But she could hardly say that.

‘I suppose so,’ she said. ‘Most women want love and marriage.’ But not me. Not right now, anyway. I just want lots of great sex. With Jack.

Marion was frowning. ‘If she’s a designer, why didn’t Jack ask her to redecorate Francesco’s Folly?’

Vivienne had to think quickly. ‘I guess he didn’t want her to get ideas about it becoming their future home together. Jack told me yesterday that he bought it on impulse when he was up that way, looking for land for a retirement village. I think he wants it as his secret hideaway.’

‘I see,’ Marion mused aloud. ‘Yes, I see. Jack’s really not going to marry her then, is he? Poor thing. She’s going to get her heart broken if she’s not careful.’

No, I won’t, Vivienne thought with a stab of surprising certainty. What I’m doing with Jack has nothing to do with my heart. It’s not a love affair. It’s a fling; that’s all it is. A strictly sexual fling.

‘She’s the sort of girl who can take care of herself,’ Vivienne said firmly as she stood up and carried the now empty mugs over to the sink. Which was true— most of the time. She’d been taking care of herself for as long as she could remember. Not by choice, by necessity. Independence and self-sufficiency had become an ingrained habit. So had emotional toughness.

Until she’d met Daryl, that was. He’d wormed his way under her skin and through the hard shell she’d encased her heart in. Her love for him had made her act in ways which were uncharacteristic and unwise. Being with him had made her weak. And blind.

Jack had been right when he’d said it was a good thing that she hadn’t married Daryl. It was. He would have been a horrible husband, and she a pathetic wife. His betrayal still hurt when she thought about it. But not as much as it had. Perhaps because she didn’t think about it as much any more.

‘You’re thinking about Daryl, aren’t you?’ Marion said intuitively from where she was still sitting at the kitchen table.

Vivienne turned from the sink and looked over at her friend. ‘Who?’ she said with brilliant nonchalance.

Marion laughed. ‘Now, that’s a step in the right direction.’

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

JACK JUMPED OUT of his Porsche at twenty past seven, annoyed that he was late picking up Vivienne. He hated being late, especially tonight. But one couldn’t always control the traffic. He hoped she wouldn’t be angry with him.

Her smiling face when she opened the door was reassuring.

‘You’re late,’ she chided him. But gently.

‘There was a breakdown on the bridge,’ he explained. ‘Sorry.’

‘No need to apologise. I understand. I’ll just get my purse and lock up.’

Perversely, Jack felt irritated by her casual acceptance of his tardiness. If she’d been looking forward to tonight as much as he was, she would have been more upset. But of course, she wasn’t emotionally involved with him, was she? He was just a male body to her. A bed partner with whom she could play erotic games. She didn’t want to be his girlfriend. She preferred the role of mistress. It was stupid of him to want more from her when it was obvious she was incapable of giving him more at this time in her life. He should just take what he could get and, when the time came, walk away.

Clenching his teeth hard in his jaw, Jack determined to treat her the way she wanted to be treated—as nothing more than a sex object. A plaything. His own personal Penthouse Pet. There would be no pity for her. Or mercy.

Which meant dinner would definitely not be lingered over. He wanted her back in his bed as soon as possible.

So, as she walked back down the hallway towards him, he let his eyes travel slowly over her from top to toe, not bothering to hide his lecherous intent. She hadn’t obeyed his command not to dress sexily, he noted, which puzzled him slightly. If she didn’t want anyone to guess at the true nature of their relationship, she should have worn something less...provocative.

Her dress was purple, a wrap-around, figure-hugging style which showed off her hourglass shape in a way which did little to dampen his desire for her. Her hair was up, but in a softly sexy style, with tendrils hanging around her lovely face. She was wearing more eye make-up than usual, making her green eyes look huge. As for her glossed lips...they looked downright wicked. And then there were the earrings, long crystal drops which drew the eye down to her impressive cleavage.

‘I told you not to wear anything sexy,’ he said brusquely once she was close enough to touch.

She shrugged her slender shoulders. ‘I decided a mistress wouldn’t go out with her lover looking dreary.’

‘True,’ he said, and without asking her permission swept her into his arms and kissed her.

Vivienne only resisted for a second or two, and then only because of shock at his sudden move. This was what she wanted, after all—to be in his arms again. To feel the heat of his flesh pressed hard against hers. And his body was hard. Hard all over.

Soon, she didn’t even want to go to dinner. If he’d pushed her back inside and into her bedroom, she would not have objected.

If only she hadn’t dropped her keys onto the wooden floorboards.

His head lifted abruptly at the clattering sound, giving her a wry look before bending down to pick them up. Vivienne clenched the offending hands as she tried to regain control over herself. Her face felt hot and her whole body was in danger of imminent meltdown. She could not speak. Could hardly think. After straightening, he took a closer look at her and smiled a smile which she couldn’t fathom. Was it amusement curving his lips? Or some strange kind of satisfaction?

‘I’ll lock up for you,’ he said.

She just stared at him, her head slowly clearing from the fog of passion which had been clouding her normally sharp brain. Not for the first time, she wondered why Jack aroused her so easily to a level of lust which was both overpowering and overwhelming. One kiss and she was his again. Instantly. Being his beck-and-call girl was never going to present a problem. Because she wanted to do everything with him, and for him.

Sexually speaking, that was. She especially liked it when he was masterful with her. When he was demanding. When he took without asking. How strange was that? She’d always hated domineering, arrogant men. Yet she didn’t hate Jack. If truth be told, she liked him even more than she’d admitted to Marion. She was also finding him more handsome than she ever had before.

Of course, he was dressed more smartly than usual tonight in a dark grey suit, white shirt and a blue tie the colour of his eyes. A man was always improved when wearing a suit, she thought, especially suits as well-fitting as Jack’s. It gave him an air of urbane sophistication which she hadn’t seen in him before. She’d always thought of Jack as a rough diamond; he was anything but rough in that extremely elegant suit.

He turned and caught her staring at him.

But he didn’t say anything, just handed her the keys and took her arm, leading her outside.

It was cooler than she’d expected after the warmth of the day. Vivienne ground to a halt before they reached the pavement.

‘I think I should go back and get a jacket,’ she told Jack. Her dress did have three-quarter sleeves but the material was thin.

‘Absolutely not,’ he replied firmly. ‘No covering up for you tonight, beautiful.’

Vivienne winced. ‘Would you mind not calling me that? I really don’t like it.’

His facial muscles tightened. ‘What shall I call you, then? Sweetheart? Honey? Surely not darling? That doesn’t seem to befit a mistress.’

Vivienne’s hand clutched her purse tightly within angry fingers. ‘Why are you acting like a jerk all of a sudden?’ she threw at him.

He glared at her for a moment, then sighed, his face softening. ‘You’re right. I am acting like a jerk. Blame it on male ego. I’m still smarting over your not wanting to be my girlfriend for real.’

Vivienne was tempted to give in and say, okay, I’ll be your girlfriend for real. Because she didn’t like to think he was angry with her. But she seriously didn’t want to do that. She knew she would regret it afterwards if she gave in.

‘You seemed happy with our arrangement when you dropped me off last night,’ she reminded him tautly. ‘Besides, I thought a strictly sexual relationship would be right up your alley.’

‘So did I.’

‘Then what’s your problem?’

Yeah, Jack, what’s your problem? For pity’s sake, get a grip.

He shrugged. ‘No real problem. But perhaps you could compromise a little and go out with me occasionally. On a proper date, that is.’

‘That’s what I’m doing tonight, isn’t it?’