Bella Bucannon – Captivated By The Enigmatic Tycoon (страница 1)
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.
Captivated by the Enigmatic Tycoon
Bella Bucannon
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.
A long-sleeved navy woollen jumper appeared, followed by a cap of cropped black hair. The woman snaked onto her haunches, holding up a small object. Her light harmonious laugh rippled through him as she rubbed a spot on the top of her head.
‘Got you. I’ll sew you back on later.’
‘Cassie, coffee time. I’ll... Jack, I didn’t expect this early surprise!’
Fixated on the figure in front of him, Jack didn’t react to his aunt’s voice. He was spellbound as the head spun, dark hair flew and a hand hit the floor to prevent toppling over. Scrambling to her feet, she twisted towards him and he found himself fighting for air again.
Walnut-coloured eyes framed by long black lashes widened as a delightful pink hue tinted her cheeks. Natural red, not quite symmetrical lips parted as she sucked in a deep breath and glared at him as if he’d been the cause of her injury.
Holding her gaze, he suddenly jerked back as Mel’s face loomed into his vision, eyebrows raised, perceptive smile in place. A great improvement since he’d said goodbye sixteen days ago.
‘Remember me?’
He wrapped her in a bear hug and kissed her cheek, thankful she’d regained her normal happy disposition.
‘Great timing as always. Coffee in the lounge, and you can tell me how your parents are. Oh, by the way, this is Cassie Clarkson. Cassie, my great-nephew, Jack Randell.’
She walked out with a slight hint of a limp, paying no heed to his dropped jaw. Who the hell was Cassie Clarkson, and what was she doing here when Mel had family who’d willingly come any time she needed help? Had she provided references for whatever she did, and had they been checked?
Hadn’t his aunt learnt from previous attempts to cheat her, two of them by so-called friends? An older woman on her own was considered an easy target by unscrupulous people. Even he had been duped by an attractive friend of his sister. He’d lost unpaid rent, plus his own time getting the damaged property fit to let again.