Miranda Lee - Second Chance Proposal

For a man who was used to achieving his goals, it exasperated Jack that he could not have what he wanted. If only he wasn’t a modern man, he thought irritably, constrained by the rules of civilisation and society. Cave men had had it so much easier. If a cave man had seen a female he fancied, he’d just banged her on the head with a club then dragged her back to his cave, where he’d ravaged her silly, after which she’d become his woman.

Jack had to laugh at what would happen to him if he did that to Vivienne. He certainly wouldn’t have to wait for the power of the law to punish him. She’d up and kill him the first chance she got. God, what he would not give to have her in his bed, not just once—once was not going to be nearly enough!—but on a regular basis.

By the time he’d exited the shower and wrapped a towel around himself, Jack had come to two decisions. One, he wasn’t going to go pick up some stranger tonight. To hell with that idea! Two, he didn’t care how long it took, or what he’d have to do to make it happen—one day, Vivienne Swan was going to be become his lover!

CHAPTER SEVEN

‘THAT DIDN’T TAKE long, did it?’ Jack said as he popped on his sunglasses then started up the powerful engine of his Porsche. ‘I told you the door man would be on time.’

Vivienne gave him a cool smile in return before putting on her own sunglasses. After sleeping for fourteen hours straight, she’d woken at six this morning with a clear head and a determination to take control of her life once more—which included not falling apart over Daryl’s lies, and not entertaining any further wanton thoughts about Jack Stone.

It was a still a relief, however, when he arrived and she was able to open the door to him without instantly wondering if he’d spent last night with his mistress, or whether other parts of his body were as big as his fingers. Yes, she did still find him more attractive than she had in the past. He looked extremely good in those tight blue jeans, white T-shirt and a navy zip-up jacket. But her thoughts didn’t turn lustful, even when he bent over to show the door man the broken hinges.

Vivienne was also able to fold herself down into the low passenger seat of his sexy black sports car without worrying that being alone with him would prove too much for her. She felt rested and relaxed and almost back to her normal self. Thank heavens!

‘I’ll remember to call you the next time something goes wrong in my place and I need a tradie,’ she said. ‘You seem to have all the right contacts.’

‘Call me any time you like,’ he replied.

Vivienne frowned at the uncharacteristic warmth in his voice. She supposed he was just being nice so that she’d do the job he wanted her to do, the same way he’d been nice to her yesterday. But she seriously wished he’d go back to being as brusque and matter-of-fact as he usually was. That way, there’d be no chance of a repeat of what had happened to her yesterday.

‘Do you mind if I ask you something personal?’ he said.

Vivienne’s frown deepened. ‘How personal?’

‘It’s about Daryl.’

‘What about Daryl?’

‘I only met him the once. Last year at your Christmas party. I’ve been puzzling over what was it about the man to make you fall in love with him?’

It startled Vivienne, that phrase Jack used about Daryl making her fall in love with him. For that was what she had thought herself: that somehow Daryl had made her fall in love with him.

‘It sounds like you didn’t like him much,’ she said.

‘You could say that.’

‘But why? You only spoke to us that night for a few minutes.’

Jack shrugged. ‘It doesn’t take me long to form opinions of people.’

‘In that case, what was your opinion?’

‘He was a slick-talking, superficial charmer whom I wouldn’t trust an inch.’

‘Goodness! You really didn’t like him, did you?’

‘No, but obviously you did.’

‘Well, yes...yes of course I did. I loved him.’

Jack liked the way she said that in the past tense. He liked also that his questions were making her think about the rotter she’d been planning to marry. He needed Vivienne to get over him fast. To move on with her life. Because that was his only chance of success with her in the near future.

Jack was not a patient man at the best of times. Seeing Vivienne again this morning had done little to dampen his desire for her, despite her wearing a rather androgynous black pants suit and having put her hair back up. He knew now what she looked like with her hair down, and what her breasts were like underneath that crisp, white schoolgirl blouse.

‘But why, Vivienne?’ he persisted. ‘What was there to love about him? Surely it wasn’t just because he was handsome?’

‘No,’ Vivienne denied, though Daryl was handsome. Very handsome. ‘It was more the way he treated me.’

‘You mean he said all the things you wanted to hear. Conmen are very good at lying, Vivienne. And giving compliments.’

‘True,’ Vivienne agreed. Daryl had paid her never-ending compliments. Looking back, she could see that they had been over the top. She wasn’t drop-dead gorgeous. Or that good a cook. And facing the evidence of her ex-fiancé’s character was beginning to make her angry again. Though the anger this time was more directed at herself than him. How could she have been so stupid as to be taken in by that creep? What kind of idiot was she? It was some comfort that she hadn’t finalised any arrangements for their wedding— as though deep down she’d known the wedding would never take place.

‘Would you mind if we stopped talking about Daryl?’ she said a bit sharply.

‘Sorry,’ Jack said. ‘Do you want me to shut up altogether? It’s just that it’s a rather long drive. It could get a bit boring if we just sit here in silence. I could turn on the radio if you prefer, or put on some music. I have a flash stick with heaps of songs on it.’

‘What kind of songs?’ Vivienne asked, vowing to forget all about Daryl. He wasn’t worth thinking about, anyway.

For a minute there, Jack had thought he’d made a big mistake, bringing up the subject of Vivienne’s ex. She’d become very uptight with his questions. Clearly, she was still in love with the bastard. Or thought she was. It irked Jack that dear old Daryl had probably been great in bed. Men like that usually were. But what the heck? He wasn’t too bad in the sack himself.

Jack felt confident that, if and when he managed to seduce Vivienne, she’d be happy enough in the morning. Not that he wanted actually to seduce Vivienne. Seduction suggested sneaky methods, such as excessive flattery, which had obviously been one of Daryl’s tactics for getting a girl into bed. Jack had never learnt the art of flattery. He called a spade a spade. If he told a girl she was beautiful, it was because she was beautiful. Jack hated liars and manipulators, hated empty chit-chat as well. He was a doer, not a talker.

Or he usually was. It had come as a genuine surprise to him that he’d talked to Vivienne more yesterday than he’d ever talked to any woman. He’d even told her about his family background, and the problems he’d had with his mother. Which was a thought...

Jack decided not to bother with music for now and to stick to chit-chat.

‘You’ll never guess what my mother’s gone and done,’ he said.

Vivienne seemed momentarily taken aback by his sudden change of subject, her head whipping round to look at him.

‘Er...no, I couldn’t possibly guess. What?’

‘She’s having an affair with her next-door neighbour.’

‘Heavens! I hope she’s not best friends with his wife. That’s not very nice.’

‘No no, Jim’s not married. Recently widowed.’