Falling For Jack Read online

  Finishing his fruit, he stood and pushing back his chair, took a great gulp of scalding coffee. “I’d better get started,” he said gruffly. “It could take me a while.”

  “Perhaps you should try and fix the radio first then we could send for a rescue boat.” Her green eyes were wide and beguiling as she looked up at him.

  “That’s what I intend to do,” he snapped. “But I’m no electrician and if I get it going, it will be a bloody miracle.”

  “Won’t your wife and family be worried about you?”

  He hesitated, placing his half-drunk mug of coffee on the table. “I don’t have a family. I’m divorced.”

  “Oh.”

  “The locals are used to me disappearing for days on end—after all I am a fisherman. But there could be concerns over you, which is why we need to get you to civilization.”

  “I told my mother I would contact her in a couple of days so she won’t be worried.”

  “Are your cuts healing?” He glanced at her small feet.

  “I’ll bathe them later. They’ll be fine.” She lowered her eyes and swift color rose in her cheeks. He wondered if she was thinking of the zinging, unbearable tension between them when he had smoothed ointment into her skin. She had trembled beneath his touch and for all her haughtiness, he sensed a vulnerability and shyness about her.

  He cleared his throat. “Right. I’ll get going. I’ll be back at lunchtime so perhaps you can have a look through the larder and rustle up something. If it’s not too much effort.”

  “I think I can manage to open another can of something. What if I want you? Shall I swim out to the boat?”

  Jack studied her apprehensive expression and stopped himself reaching for her. Does she bring out this protective instinct in every man? Or just idiots like me?

  He lifted a large ship’s bell from the dresser and gave it to her. “If you are worried about anything, go to the edge of the beach and ring that. But I’m sure you’ll manage for a few hours. After all, isn’t this what you’re here for—peace and quiet?”

  ~ * ~

  Lara watched him go, striding down the beach twirling a towel in his hand. She missed him already. Ridiculous. She rubbed her hand across the tarnished surface of the bell she still clutched against her. Setting it down, she began to open the various cupboards and drawers in the kitchen peering inside each one and then moved to the living room area, finishing in the bedrooms.

  “Okay, Mr. Smarty Fisherman,” she said aloud. “I know you think I’m a helpless and hopeless female. Let’s see if I can surprise you.”

  Three hours later she sat in the armchair by the fireplace, looked around and gave a nod of satisfaction. Jack’s home, his pride and joy, glistened and sparkled in the mid-day sun as if it had been touched by a magic wand.

  She had found a good supply of cleaning materials, including disinfectants and polish and even a bottle of bleach, and had set to work on the tiny house scrubbing, cleaning and polishing every surface. She had washed the windows and aired the linen stored in a large cupboard in the passage and even swept and washed the wooden porch.

  Her gaze roamed across the living and dining areas and came to rest on the vase of native flowers she had picked from behind the house. The finishing touch, she decided. Let him make fun of her now with his cynical throwaway lines about her being a snob and too stuck up to get her hands dirty.

  She glanced at the filth on her hands then at her grimy and stained top and skirt and grinned. He couldn’t say she hadn’t got “down and dirty.” She thought for a moment of her two best friends, Jade and Kate, and the apartment they had shared in Adelaide until very recently.

  Neither of her friends had been keen on housework and preferred to be out and about and involved in their university activities. But, she had loved taking care of their stylish home and had reveled in the housework, even though her parents had offered to provide her with servants. Jade and Kate swore it was only because she had been spoiled and had everything done for her in the royal households that she found pleasure in the basic daily chores of keeping their apartment tidy and clean.

  She had been inclined to agree with them even though she had made some ignorant and terrible mistakes. The girls had yet to forgive her for turning their clothes a shocking pink in a washing machine venture which had gone drastically wrong.

  Checking her watch, she saw it was already twelve thirty. Jack must be starving—she knew she was. She washed her hands in the sink and grimaced again at the state of her clothes. She would need to change before calling him for lunch. Opening the larder door, she studied the array of cans. Yes, he had been right when he’d said there was a good supply. She settled on a large can of beef stroganoff accompanied by green beans and baby carrots.

  After she had poured the ingredients into saucepans and set them in place on the shining stove, she arranged two places at the dining room table, together with a jug of water and tumblers. She moved the vase of flowers into the center of the table and stood back to admire her handiwork.

  “Magnificent. I’m very impressed.” Jack’s deep voice made her jump and she turned to find him leaning against the doorjamb, his arms folded across his chest as he surveyed the scene before him.

  She looked at her grubby clothes and wished she’d had time to change. “I only flicked a duster around as you suggested,” she said with a mischievous smile.

  He strolled in and stood in front of her. A grin stretched across his face as he touched a streak of dirt on her cheek with a long finger. “Thanks, Lara. You’ve done a great job, even if you did manage to get yourself in a mess in the process.”

  Her heart began its now familiar erratic thumping at his touch and the look in his eyes. “You’re not exactly Mr. Perfect,” she blurted, more to hide her embarrassment than anything.

  Laughing, he looked at his own oil-streaked and dirty clothes. “Touché. But, I’ve got good news. Although I didn’t fix the radio, I have managed to start Jezebel. We can pack up and leave for Seagull Island right after lunch.”

  “Oh.” She found it impossible to say more. She knew there had been every chance he would fix the boat but now he had confirmed it, she couldn’t comprehend her disappointment. Her time with him was over.

  “I don’t want to go.”

  “What?”

  “I want to stay for a couple more days.”

  “Why?”

  “I like it here.” She made unnecessary adjustments to the cutlery on the table as she tried to gather her thoughts. She was getting into deeper trouble by the moment but seemed powerless to stop herself. “Besides, it would be a shame to leave now I’ve spent all of this time cleaning everything,” she finished lamely.

  His expression grew serious, and she lowered her eyes rather than face more explanations. However, he tilted her chin so she had to look at him. “I don’t think it would be very smart to stay here any longer.”

  “Why not?”

  “Honestly? Because I can’t trust myself with you, that’s why.” He sounded regretful as he continued, “You must recognize the sparks flying between us. I want to make love to you, and unless I’m very much mistaken, you want this too.”

  The blood in her veins pulsed and surged as she gazed into his warm, blue eyes so full of desire. He had at last spoken about this extraordinary sexual tension that had been there from when they had met. Both of them aware of it but not willing to acknowledge it. Until now.

  Swallowing hard, she found her voice. “You’re not mistaken, Jack. I do want you to make love to me.”

  He brushed a stray strand of hair from her face. “Thank you for being honest. But, as much as I would like to, I can’t.”

  Stepping back, she stared at him. Didn’t he realize how important this was to her? That she was offering herself to him? That she had never been with a man but now she wanted this man. She needed only this man.

  “I don’t understand. Do you have a girlfriend on the main land?” Please, please say no. She clenched her
fists, her body tense as she waited for his reply.

  “No. It’s simpler than that. I have no protection with me. Unless you’re on the pill, I couldn’t risk having sex with you and making you pregnant.”

  Her face burned at his outspokenness. She held her breath at the image of his lean body on hers as he entered her, loving her, making her complete, with his baby.

  “Are you on the pill by any chance?”

  “No.”

  “Well, that’s that. I’m sorry but condoms aren’t items I stock in my larder.”

  She rubbed a hand over her eyes not quite believing this conversation. He made jokes and she made a fool of herself. “It’s okay. But, perhaps we could stay tonight, Jack?” she added, with a tilt of her mouth.

  “I guess we can if you want to.” He moved to lift the lid on one of the saucepans and peered at the contents. “At least we’ve cleared the air and know where we stand.”

  “Yes. And I can leave here knowing that Jack, the fisherman, wanted to make love to me. If things had been different, I mean?”

  He turned and studied the beautiful girl fidgeting with the place mats. She looked forlorn, as if hoping for reassurance from him.

  “I’ve never wanted a woman more in my whole life,” he breathed and watched as her face lit up and she stepped toward him.

  He held up his hand to stop her. “I think a quick swim before lunch would be a good idea, don’t you? I have an overpowering need to cool off.”

  Changing into his swimming trunks in the spare bedroom, he noted with pleasure the freshly made-up bed, the clean floors and polished furniture. He paused as he looked out of the window onto the overgrown garden at the side of the house. He’d had to say it, he thought. He had to bring their feelings into the open and discuss them. It had developed into an impossible state of affairs, which had been exacerbated over the few hours they had spent together. He was amazed this could happen but it had, through the looks, the caresses and the unspoken words full of unfulfilled promises.

  She had shocked him. First, asking to stay on the island and then her declaration that she wanted him to make love to her. He could sense this was not normal behavior for her and she had stepped from her comfort zone by making such bold statements.

  Picking up a towel, he gave a wry smile. He would never have believed he could get caught in such a predicament where he was desperate to make love to this glorious creature but couldn’t take the risk. It wasn’t just a physical problem but rather a question of where would it lead? Precisely nowhere, he decided. They would part after satisfying this primal sexual urge and never see each other again. That wasn’t his style. He wanted more than a casual fling with her. It was a crazy situation.

  She had covered her bikini with a wrap, whether to protect her skin from the hot sun, or from his eyes, he wasn’t sure. All he knew was the sensual, sexual tension still hung in the air between them. Damn it.

  “Come on.” He walked ahead to the beach leaving her to follow. He headed for the sheltered cove with the curving sandy bottom, which he knew was safe for bathing.

  As they reached the water’s edge, she tossed her towel and wrap to one side almost in an act of defiance, and running into the water, dived beneath the surface. He followed more slowly, his gaze on the spot where she had disappeared. She emerged in front of him wiping the stream of water from her face and hair.

  “What is it?” She tried to decipher the strange expression in his face. “Isn’t it safe here?”

  He reached for her, pulling her against him and covering her mouth with his. She responded with reckless abandonment as she wound her arms around his neck.

  He drew away at last and she stared into his eyes seeking to know his thoughts and what lay behind the passion of his kiss. His hands continued to caress her waist and hips as he supported her weight.

  “I’m sorry, Lara. I didn’t mean for this to happen. It appears it isn’t safe here.”

  “It’s all right. It was only a kiss,” she replied before turning and diving beneath the water once more. She surfaced and began to swim as if chased by a thousand devils, her body throbbing with need. How could she have reacted this way? She knew little about men and was reserved in their company mostly due to her royal training, but also because of her own shy nature. Jade and Kate would tease her because she was so shy, her manner often mistaken for being standoffish and proud until she was pushed too far and then a red-hot temper would surface. Jade was the “in your face” noisy one of the trio while Kate was studious and rarely had her head out of her books.

  She watched as Jack swam strongly away. Floating on her back, she shut her eyes against the glare of the sun as wayward thoughts crowded her mind. He’s probably regretting the kiss right now. He had no idea I would respond that way. Neither did I. He seemed as shocked as I was when we lost control. I’m sure he’s not some sort of playboy intent on seducing me, but I don’t really know anything about him, do I?

  She moved her arms and legs through the water slowly propelling herself toward the shore. He hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d said he wanted her. She saw it in his eyes, in the depth of that kiss and in his hands touching her. Was she in love with this rugged fisherman or was it the island weaving a strange magic spell over them? She knew she was foolish to stay another night, but she couldn’t bear to say goodbye yet. Not to the island. Not to Jack.

  At the house, she dried herself and changed into a fresh top and slacks. Her long hair was sticky and unmanageable from the salt water and she made a mental note to wash it with the shampoo she had brought with her.

  They sat opposite each other eating their lunch in silence. She was awkward and unsure of what to say while he looked cool and controlled in his clean blue shirt and shorts.

  “I want to go over to the boat this afternoon and tidy up a few things,” he said at last, taking a swallow of water. “Then I’ll catch another couple of fish for our dinner.”

  His smile was warm and she responded. “There’s a bottle of white wine in the fridge. We could celebrate.”

  “Celebrate what? My lack of control?”

  Her eyes widened at his blunt statement. “We’ll celebrate meeting and being on this lovely island…and parting.” Her voice quivered and to cover her confusion, she stood abruptly gathering the empty plates.

  He also stood. “You’re quite right. We should make our dinner a happy occasion,” he said. She was relieved to hear the tone of his voice had lost its sarcastic edge.

  “I’ll even make a white wine sauce to go with the fish,” he added.

  She stacked the plates on to the sink top. “You must have missed your vocation. You should have been a chef, not a fisherman.” She turned to face him and was still at the look of desire in his face.

  “If I was a chef I wouldn’t have met you,” he said softly, his blue eyes caressing.

  This time she didn’t lower her eyes, but returned his look. “In that case, I’m glad you’re a fisherman.”

  ~ * ~

  It was four hours later and he still hadn’t returned from Jezebel or his fishing expedition. She had cleared up after the lunch and neatened the tiny, lopsided cottage once again. She had washed some of her clothes and repacked her suitcase ready to leave the next morning.

  Finally, she had shampooed and conditioned her hair in the strange, antiquated shower near the house. The water from the large container above her head had been pleasantly warmed by the long, hot day in the sun but she’d used it sparingly aware the rainwater in the tank could be getting low.

  At last Jack returned holding two fish aloft as he entered the front door. “Here we are,” he said cheerfully, as she placed the book she had been reading to one side.

  “You’re not expecting me to…to gut them, are you?”

  She was so aghast that he burst out laughing. “Seeing that you are all clean and pretty, I’ll let you off that particular chore,” he responded, slapping the fish onto the sink. “I’ll prepare them, then I’ll go and
have a shower. Can’t have you being the sweet smelling one while I reek of fish.”

  He was being remarkably affable, Lara thought. She was sure he had many other things he would rather be doing than stuck here. She decided to follow his positive lead. After all, it had been an adventure and they would never see each other again after tomorrow. What was the point of dwelling on things and being miserable? This time next week she would be home in the palace and a secretary would be going through her appointment diary to arrange engagements for at least the next year. Lara blinked away the tears that welled in her eyes. She had been prepared to return and take up her royal duties after her few days on Seagull Island but now meeting Jack, she could see the careless freedom he took for granted. How she wished life could be different for her. And if she let her romantic ideas really take hold that she could stay here with him. Perhaps he would learn to love her. Love her and care for her.

  “I’ve opened a can of chicken soup. We could have it as a starter,” she said, watching as he prepared the fish.

  “Good idea.” Jack glanced up. “Cuts healed?” he asked, as he continued to fillet the fish.

  “I think so.”

  “I’ll have a look at them later. You don’t want to risk an infection.”

  She nodded and busied herself heating the soup. She brought the wine from the fridge and endeavored to open the bottle with a rusty opener she’d found in the cutlery drawer.

  He washed and dried his hands and then rescued the wine from her. “May be easier if I do this,” he said casually as he removed the cork with a gentle popping sound and poured the wine into the two waiting glasses. He handed one of the glasses to her and chinked his own against it.

  “Here’s a toast to the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. May she find the happiness she seeks.”

  Lara was stunned into silence as she sipped the cold, fruity Riesling. His eyes caressed her, making love to her, and she was tempted to throw herself into his arms and to hell with the consequences. Fortunately, the temptation was removed as he set his glass down and retrieving his towel and bag of toiletries, headed for the shower.