Captivated By The Enigmatic Tycoon
He’ll prove he’s worth her love!Cassie Clarkson must ensure she doesn’t get on Jack Randell’s bad side – seeing as he's the handsome great-nephew of her new client. There’s one issue though, being on his good side is so much more dangerous – to her heart! Cassie needs this job but she also can’t deny her feelings.
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A proposal of convenience!
Jacques Brookes wants the world to see the real him—the man behind the headlines. When he catches the eye of beautiful Lily Newman, he knows she could be just the woman to help him...
Jacques screams trouble—Lily’s already had her heart broken by her cheating ex-fiancé. But by pretending to be Jacques’s girlfriend she may be the only person who can help him on his journey to redemption. And he could be just what Lily needs to believe in love again!
‘Cassie?’ With a gentle hold Jack turned her to face him—and found himself even closer.
Near enough to feel the warmth of her body, to see the gold rim sparkle in her eyes, and smell the essence that was pure Cassie. His lips were a breath away from hers.
‘Conversation won’t answer the questions keeping me awake at night.’ He slid his hand around her neck. ‘Like how will it feel to have you crushed against me?’ He tilted her chin up with his thumb. ‘And are your lips as delectable and sweet as I imagine?’
He lowered his head and covered his mouth with hers in a tender exploratory kiss. Her body stilled, then melted into his, causing an instant physical reaction. His heart blipped, and then soared when she didn’t pull away. His fingers caressed and firmed as his free arm encircled her waist, binding her to him. His chest expanded and fire flared in his stomach, rapidly spreading to every extremity.
Cassie’s arms snaked up and around his neck, her fingers tangled into his hair and he trembled. There was no awareness of time. It was an instant or a lifetime until necessity for air forced his lips from hers barely long enough to gasp and let a possessive male growl escape before settling again. He heard her contented sigh mingle with his low rumble.
Yet suddenly Cassie wrenched free, slamming onto the workbench and sending him stumbling away, almost falling over the dog.
He took a step forward, hands held out in appeal. ‘Cassie, what’s wrong? Tell me what I did.’
‘It’s wrong. We can’t…we mustn’t.’ Her hesitant words were muttered against her palms as she dropped her head.
BELLA BUCANNON lives in a quiet northern suburb of Adelaide with her soulmate husband, who loves and supports her in any endeavour. She enjoys walking, dining out and travelling. Bus tours or cruising with days at sea to relax, plot and write are top of her list. Apart from category romance she also writes very short stories and poems for a local writing group. Bella believes joining RWA and SARA early in her writing journey was a major factor in her achievements.
To my own special hero, who understands my struggle with routine and being organised.
To Flo and Victoria for their support, advice and guidance.
And to everyone who knows I am a hoarder and couldn’t believe I understand decluttering.
Contents
JACK RANDELL GRINNED at the sound of Strauss, his Aunt Mel’s favourite composer, as he reached the back door. Hopefully this meant her feisty spirit was resurfacing as she’d rarely listened to any music she could dance to since the accident three months ago.
Although she was technically his great-aunt, he could never envision her as being that extra generation older. She and Bob had given him unconditional support during his teenage years when understanding between him and his parents had seemed irretrievable. This house had become his sanctuary, still was even at the age of twenty-eight.
His spirits lifted in anticipation that she’d also begun baking again, and that the kitchen would be filled with mouth-watering aromas. He automatically inhaled as he stepped across the threshold.
No tempting smells and no sound of human activity. He wasn’t surprised at the lack of heating; Mel rarely turned it on until the sun began to set. While he’d been visiting his parents in Brisbane, he’d thought July’s bitterly cold days in Adelaide might have changed her mind. Another reason to believe she was active again and didn’t need it.
After glancing into the kitchen, disappointingly neat and clean, he was about to call out when he heard a scraping sound from the family room on his right. He walked in and stopped, breath caught in his throat and heart skipping intermittent beats.
An enticingly filled-out pair of denim jeans occupied the space in front of the heavy coffee table now placed in the far corner. Definitely not Mel, who declared denim was for the young. His tightened as the pleasing form leaned in further, angling past the bookcase that had been pushed almost to the table, partly blocking the window.
He heard a triumphant huff, followed by a pained, ‘Ow.’ The taut bottom jiggled, and he became decidedly uncomfortable. Mesmerised and immobilised, he watched as the wriggling continued towards him.
