Falling For Jack Read online

  I’m hungry. My stomach just rumbled but I don’t know whether he will give me supper after my tantrums. No matter, I’m not cleaning his dirty house and that’s final.

  She tucked her journal carefully away in its secret compartment in her case. Then, after pulling out some of her clothes, arranged them so they formed a blanket to lie on for her bed that night.

  Glancing through the trees, she noticed lights reflecting from the funny, fairy tale cottage. Jack must have got the generator going. But if he thinks I’m going to sleep in that messy, filthy place with him, then he can forget it. She rubbed her hands over her legs feeling the grime and very much wishing she could luxuriate in a scented bath. Pulling out her bright green, but modest bikini, she quickly changed and made her way to the water’s edge.

  The sun had disappeared and the sea birds were settling for the night. She could see the outlines of hundreds of cormorants and hear their raucous calls as they nestled into the rocky outcrop, which helped to create the sheltered bay. As a full moon rose, a gentle breeze blew in from the sea, ruffling and teased the water into small waves that rushed to break on the shore.

  Lara placed a tentative foot in the water. It was cold in contrast to her warm body. She waded to where the water reached her hips and stumbled as sharp rocks beneath the waves cut into her feet. Holding her breath she dived beneath a sudden larger wave and swam for several feet under the water before breaking the surface with a gasp. Exhilarated, she dived again and swam further, stroke after stroke, until she had to stop to catch her breath. Now the water temperature was like a tepid bath, and she lay on her back floating contentedly with the movement of the waves. Gazing at the night sky where trillions of stars had begun to twinkle, she could almost believe she was the last person on earth.

  The surprise of two strong arms grabbing her by the waist was such a shock she splashed furiously as she tried to get free. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? Let go.”

  “Not until you promise to go to the shore with me.” Jack still had his arms around her, holding her as he trod water.

  Her breasts in their bikini top were crushed against his naked chest and as she struggled, her legs became intertwined with his and his lean hips pressed into her.

  “How dare you,” she gasped. “You said I could trust you.”

  “And you can, which is why I’m here. Now, stop fighting me and return to the beach or I swear I will tow you back.”

  “I am not going anywhere because you say so,” she shouted, trying to push him away and ignoring the angry expression on his face.

  “Right. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” The next moment, Jack flipped her onto her back and with a strong hand around her throat, swam to the shore, pulling Lara behind him. As his feet hit the rocky bottom, he hoisted her over his shoulder in a fireman’s lift and strolled confidently to the shore paying no attention to her yells of protest.

  On the beach, he lowered her to her feet and they faced each other. She panted with anger and fright as she stood her ground.

  “Okay. If you want to assault me, then you had better get on with it,” she said, her voice trembling with emotion. “But I’ll fight you with every last breath in my body.” She placed her hands on her hips in an act of defiance, although she was shivering with fear and cold.

  Jack bent over and picked up his large beach towel at his feet and placed it around her shoulders, briskly rubbing her arms.

  “Lara, you are such a drama queen. I have no intention of hurting you,” he said, the angry expression replaced by one of concern. “You placed yourself in danger out there. First, you should never swim alone. If you were subject to cramp or something, no one would hear your cries for help and you would drown. Second, you are swimming in the wrong area. On the other side of that rock formation is a sheltered cove with a shallow, sandy bottom. Here, there are jagged rocks. It’s a wonder you didn’t cut your feet to shreds.”

  She bit her lip. She could already feel the stinging sensation of several cuts on the balls of her feet.

  “Finally, and you can scoff if you like, but we are in shark infested waters. You had swum far enough to be grabbed by one and then wham, no Lara.”

  He stopped rubbing her arms and picked up his sneakers. He then turned away and began to walk up the beach toward the house.

  “Jack?”

  He stopped at the sound of her voice.

  “I did cut my feet.”

  Spinning around, he crossed the few yards back to her.

  “I can’t see in this light. I’ll take you to the house and have a look,” was all he said in his calm, deep voice and then lifted her in his arms.

  She tentatively held onto his neck marveling at the silky texture of his skin beneath her hands. The movement of his chest against her body caused the strangest sensations making her skin tingle. Her breasts swelled against him and a burning heat pooled between her thighs. She wriggled with embarrassment but Jack tightened his grip, not even glancing at her as he kicked open the front door.

  “Let’s have a look.” He placed her in the old armchair by the fireplace and kneeling in front of her, lifted each foot and gently probed the soles.

  She studied him in the brightness of the overhead light. He was exquisitely formed with his upper body tanned and muscular and a smattering of dark hair on his chest disappearing into the belted shorts he wore. His waist was lean with not an ounce of surplus flesh while his legs were long and also tanned.

  She stared at his thick, dark lashes lowered over those oh-so-blue eyes and then at his sensual mouth as he examined her feet. What would he look like without his swarthy beard? He really was beautiful just the way he was. Beautiful.

  “There’s nothing too serious but you have got a few cuts. I’ll get the first aid kit.”

  Jack looked up, and she blushed wondering if he had interpreted her look.

  “I’m sorry, Jack. I mean, I’m sorry I accused you of…of those things but a girl can’t be too careful.”

  He grinned and she caught her breath, her heart racing as the heat once again rose in her body.

  “I don’t blame you. You are in a vulnerable position.” He opened a drawer in the dresser and pulled out a large first aid tin. “But, I said you can trust me and I meant it.” He deftly wiped her feet with disinfectant then applied a soothing cream.

  “Are you still going to sleep on the beach?” He moved away but only to reach for a pair of his socks from his duffle bag and roll them on to both her feet.

  Lara nodded. She watched as one lean hand gripped her calf, the rough calluses on his palm brushing her tender skin as he maneuvered the second sock into place.

  He stood up, flexing his legs as he did so. “There. That should protect your feet for now. Tomorrow, bathe them in the shallows and the salt water will heal those little cuts. And then keep your shoes on.”

  She tucked her legs beneath her and wrapped the towel more closely around her shoulders. She couldn’t begin to describe the hot embarrassment of the past few minutes from when Jack had carried her unceremoniously from the beach until he had knelt in front of her, his hands caressing her feet.

  “Are you okay?” He sounded puzzled and his eyes reflected his concern.

  “I’m fine. Thank you for looking after me.” She breathed a sigh of relief as she found her voice at last. “I’ll go down to the beach now.”

  “I thought you might so you’d better take this. I’ve shaken and aired it to make sure there aren’t any bugs.” He held out a green sleeping bag.

  “It’s too warm for a sleeping bag,” she replied, moving back. Relief filled her as she placed some distance between them.

  He shrugged. “You’ll be surprised. A cool wind is getting up and in the middle of the night, the temperatures can drop quite dramatically.”

  “But, isn’t this yours?”

  “I’ve got another one. Also, I’m going to light a fire on the beach, which will keep us warm and also cook our supper.”


  “That sounds good,” she said, her voice soft with unknown emotion. Turning, she hurried out of the wobbly front door and made her way to her makeshift camp.

  She ran to the beach, landing with a thump next to her belongings. What had she got herself into, for heaven’s sake? Her heart gradually returned to its normal rate as she changed from her swimsuit into warm slacks and top. Jack was right. The air was cooler now, and she shivered as she settled into her homemade bed, wrapping the sleeping bag around her and wondering how she was going to make it through the night.

  It was an hour later that she saw him bent over a fire he’d set up on the beach a short distance from her. He had soon coaxed it into life, the red flames accentuating the darkness around her.

  “Why don’t you bring your sleeping gear over here?” he called. “You’ll be much warmer and I’m just going to start supper.”

  Disheveled and sandy, she made her way to the fire, carrying her bag with her and trying to appear nonchalant. He had brought an icebox from the house with various cooking utensils and crockery items in it and laid them out on a large towel as she sat opposite him.

  “I’ve caught a couple of whiting. They’ll taste a treat with some new potatoes,” he continued, his tone inviting conversation as he balanced a frying pan over the fire and rested it on an iron rung.

  “Where did you get the potatoes?”

  “They’re canned. I’ve one large larder in the cottage full of everything you can think of so while there is fish in the sea and cans of food in that larder, we won’t starve.”

  “Don’t you ever have fresh produce besides fish?” She grimaced then nearly gagged as Jack placed the fish on a chopping board and sliced off their heads with one swift movement of his long, sharp knife. He then began to skillfully fillet them.

  When he glanced up, he must have noted the disdainful expression on her face and made a great show of removing the fish innards and tossing them to the waiting seagulls. “Sure. But I didn’t exactly plan to stop at the island this time around, or in such regal company.”

  Her head shot up. “What do you mean? Regal?” Her voice was sharp with suspicion.

  “Well, you seem pretty high and mighty,” he said, placing the fish pieces in the frying pan with a splash of cooking oil and giving a nod as they began to sizzle.

  “Are you saying I’m a snob?” She drew the sleeping bag around her shoulders as she studied the strong planes and angles of his face vividly reflected in the flickering lights of the fire. He set a small pan of potatoes near the fish and sat back on his heels as if to admire his handy-work. His eyes lifted to meet hers and Lara felt her temperature rise. Whether it was from the heat of the fire or because of his analytical, yet teasing expression, she wasn’t sure.

  “Yes, you probably are a snob,” he said at last.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Think about it. You arrive at the quayside dressed to kill with five designer suitcases in tow. You see me, a poor working fisherman, and start to order me around as if I’m a lowly servant.”

  She bit her lip at his blunt words. How dreadful that he should consider her in this way. “I’m very sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. I’d come from the race day in Port Margaret, that’s why I was dressed like that.”

  Flipping the fish over in the pan, he continued his verbal attack. “Ah, so that explains your glamorous gear. You had been mixing with the snobby and rich racing set.”

  “They weren’t snobby.”

  “Many of them are.”

  “Some of them, I suppose, and some of them are wealthy. You obviously have a problem with people who make a success of their lives.” She shrugged, not liking the way this strange conversation was progressing.

  “You must admit you acted pretty oddly. Why couldn’t you have caught the tour boat to Seagull Island tomorrow like any other normal visitor? Are you running away from someone?”

  She was grateful that he gave her precious thinking time as he expertly flicked some of the fish pieces onto a plate and spooned some potatoes to join them. He handed the plate to her along with a knife and fork. Balancing it precariously on her knees, she sniffed the wholesome aroma of the freshly cooked meal, her mouth watering in anticipation.

  After serving himself, he settled next to her, stretching his long legs in their cutoff jeans toward the fire. He raised one eyebrow.

  “Yes, there was someone I wished to avoid,” she replied cautiously. Cutting a piece of the moist fish, she savored the flavor as she placed it in her mouth. “Oh, this is fantastic.” She sighed, closing her eyes in bliss.

  Laughing, Jack proceeded to eat his meal. “I guess we are both hungry,” he said between mouthfuls.

  “I had no idea fish could taste this good.” A few minutes later, she put her plate to one side and watched him as he finished his meal.

  “Do you want a drink? I’ve some mineral water cooling in the fridge.”

  She nodded and together they cleared the supper things and carried them to the house. They rinsed the crockery, placing it on the draining board to dry. Lara pulled out two small bottles of water from the refrigerator, which, although antiquated, was doing a great job of cooling things down.

  Wiping her hands on the tea towel, she stood awkwardly as Jack took a long swallow from his water bottle. She hoped he wouldn’t pursue their previous conversation because she wasn’t sure what to say and he was definitely probing into why she was going to Seagull Island on her own.

  “I guess it’s late. I’ll settle down to sleep now.” She hesitated as a trickle of water ran down his chin and she suppressed the urge to kiss it away. He wiped it with the back of his hand.

  “I’ll build up the fire so you won’t get cold. Here, this may help you to sleep better.” He handed her a soft, feather pillow. “It’s clean,” he added, the corner of his eyes crinkling attractively.

  She returned his smile. “Thank you, Jack. You’ve been very kind.” “Unable to resist it, she repeated her apology, “I’m sorry you think I’m a snob.”

  He shrugged. “It doesn’t worry me. You just need to chill out a bit.”

  Nodding to save another disagreement, she made her way to the beach and arranged her pillow and sleeping bag for the night. It was much cooler now and she was glad to snuggle into its warmth. He loaded some logs onto the fire and checked they were secured then settled into his sleeping bag a few yards away from her.

  A gradual delicious drowsiness enveloped her. The fire crackled and burned and with these comforting sounds in her ears, she drifted into sleep.

  Three

  Jack woke as dawn was breaking and the first pink rays of the sun appeared over the horizon. He stood and stretched his long body, his gaze going to Lara. She lay inside her sleeping bag but with her arms thrown above her head in a gesture of abandonment. Her hair tumbled around her shoulders in a pale golden cloud.

  He moved closer and crouching beside her, studied the beauty of her face. She looked serene, her mouth pursed emphasizing the perfect shape of her lips. Her cheeks were flushed and as he watched, her eyelids flickered showing she was in a dream phase of her sleep. He glanced down and could see the swell of her breasts beneath the top she was wearing. God, she is so beautiful.

  Resisting the temptation to smooth his fingers along her velvet cheek, he stood and made his way toward the house. As he filled the kettle and placed it on the sturdy stove, he mulled over his mystery guest. And she was mysterious, he decided, laying a couple of places at the table for breakfast. She was well bred with every inch of her screaming class from her elegant clothes to her pure voice with its fascinating accent.

  He grinned as he shoveled spoonfuls of coffee into two mugs. She was used to getting her own way, and he would bet it was a brave person who said no to her. He could tell she had to practice unusual control in trying to put him in his place and she didn’t like it. No, she didn’t like it one bit. He was tempted to have a wild fling with her and put to rest this sexual tension that c
rackled between them brewing like a tropical storm. But, he could also sense her resistance. She was worried about something, or somebody, and he doubted she would tell him about it.

  “You should have woken me.” A soft voice reproached him and he turned to see her, silhouetted against the sun’s rays, standing at the open door. She looked ethereal in a white flared beach skirt and matching top, her slender legs and body outlined through the thin material. On her feet she wore his chunky black socks, which should have looked incongruous and yet on her were as sexy as hell.

  He grabbed the coffee mug as it was about to fall from his fingers. Jeez. He was acting like a lovesick teenager but she knocked him out. He wanted her.

  “You were too sound asleep for me to dare to disturb you,” he joked, turning to take the kettle from the stove to give him time to recover his equilibrium.

  “Can I help?”

  “Yep. Get a can opener and open these peaches, will you?”

  “Are you going to work on Jezebel after breakfast?”

  He nodded. “But you needn’t come. I’ll have to strip the engine down and see what the problem is. You can stay here and relax.” He poured two coffees and placed them on the table. “And don’t go swimming on your own,” he warned with a frown.

  “I need a shower.” Lara wiped two dusty fruit bowls with the tea towel and then served the peaches, pouring some of the sweet juice over the top of them.

  He sat at the table, his chair scraping on the wooden floor. “I’ll be out of the way soon so you can have your shower in peace without bothering to hide your blushes.”

  She laughed as she sat next to him and lifted a spoonful of peach nectar to her mouth, running her tongue over her lips as she swallowed. He watched as her tongue caught and held a tiny droplet of juice. His heart slammed in his chest like a thousand drums beating out a tune. Was she teasing him? He didn’t think so. There was too much of an air of innocence about her, although she appeared a lot more relaxed this morning. Perhaps she’d got the message that he wouldn’t harm her.