Ruthless Seduction: Pleasured in the Billionaire's Bed / The Ruthless Marriage Proposal
Thank goodness it wasn’t far from her mother’s house to the shopping centre, the sight of Tuggerah ahead soothing her anxiety somewhat. Clothes shopping was one thing she did truly enjoy. She had a good sense of fashion and knew what suited her. When she’d attended the company Christmas parties with Greg he’d always been very proud of her.
Hopefully, Jack would feel just as proud when he came to pick her up tonight.
‘You don’t mind, Mum?’ Lisa said, glancing up from where she was sitting at her mother’s messy kitchen table, sipping coffee. The clock on the wall showed ten to one. Finding that special dress had taken Lisa longer than she’d anticipated.
‘Mind? Why should I mind? I love having Cory over.’
‘Where is he, by the way?’
‘Down at the creek, looking for tadpoles.’
‘He’s OK by himself down there?’
‘He can swim, can’t he? Of course he’s all right. You fuss over him too much, Lisa. Boys needs some space. And some freedom.’
‘Maybe. But it’s a dangerous world out there, Mum.’
‘The world is whatever you believe it to be. I believe it to be good. And I believe people to be good. Until it’s proven otherwise.’
Lisa sighed. Her mother was naïve, in her opinion. And out of touch. At the same time, she could see that Cory grew whenever he spent time with her. Not physically. But in maturity and experience. Her mother did allow him to do things she never would.
‘It’s good that you’re going out,’ her mother went on. ‘Even if it is just with a girlfriend. So you’re off to Sydney, are you? To a posh dinner in a posh restaurant. That’s great. But watch yourself.’
Lisa blinked. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Sydney on a Saturday night can be a wild place. Don’t go walking around the streets by yourself.’
‘We’re going to a restaurant, Mum. It’s a literary-awards dinner with speeches and things. We won’t be walking around the streets.’
‘What are you going to wear?’
Lisa had decided not to show her mother the dress she’d bought. She wasn’t in the mood for being criticised.
‘I have plenty of party dresses in my wardrobe.’
‘You know, you might see our favourite author there.’
‘And who would that be?’ Lisa said, trying to keep a straight face.
‘Nick Freeman, of course. His books always win awards. It says so on the inside flaps. You’ll have to tell me what he looks like. There’s never a picture on the back cover. And not much of a biography. I think he writes under an assumed name.’
‘He might be a woman,’ came Lisa’s oddly mischievous comment.
‘Oh, no,’ her mother said with a rather knowing smile. ‘The creator of Hal is no woman. My guess is he’s ex-military. He knows much too much about weapons not to have personal experience.’
‘Maybe he just does a lot of research,’ Lisa said, whilst thinking to herself that her mother was probably right.
‘No. It’s all too real. I sure hope he’s going to write some more Hal Hunter books. I’m addicted to them already. Yet strangely enough, I think I like the first one the best. The Scales of Justice. That’s where you really get to know Hal. You understand why he is the way he is after the way his parents get killed.’
Lisa frowned, only then making the connection between Jack’s parents being tragically killed and the way Hal’s parents were killed. Not in a car accident. In a terrorist bombing.
Was that why Jack had become a loner, like Hal? Why he didn’t want to marry and have a family of his own?
The answers to those questions possibly lay in that first book.
‘You know, Mum, I think I’d like to read that one again. You haven’t lent it to any of your friends, have you?’
‘Nope. It’s in my bedroom, under the bed. I’ll go get it for you.’
Her mother had just left when the back screen door was yanked open and Cory charged into the kitchen, holding an old coffee jar full of muddy water.
The nicely washed and ironed clothes which she’d put on him that morning were also muddy. So was his face. It always pained Lisa to see her good-looking boy looking like a ruffian. But she held her tongue for once.
‘Hi there, Mum! Where’s Grandma?’
‘Right here, sweetie,’ Lisa’s mother replied as she bustled back into the kitchen, handing Lisa the book before going straight over to Cory. ‘Show me what you’ve got. Heavens! You’ve done well. We’ll put them in the pond later. Hopefully, some of them might turn into frogs. By the way, you’re staying the night,’ she continued before Lisa could tell Cory herself. ‘Your mum’s going out to some fancy dinner in Sydney tonight.’
‘Wow! Cool.’
Lisa wasn’t sure if he meant it was cool she was going to Sydney, or cool that he was staying the night.
‘Don’t let him stay up too late,’ she said.
Grandmother and grandson exchanged a conspiratorial glance. They were as thick as thieves, those two.
‘It’s Saturday night,’ her mother said. ‘Cory doesn’t have to go to school tomorrow. He can sleep in in the morning. You’re not going to be here to pick him up till lunch-time, I’ll bet. It’ll be you having the late night.’
Lisa didn’t plan on being that late. But she didn’t want to argue the point, for fear of making a slip-up with her story.
‘Oh, all right,’ she agreed. ‘But not too late,’ Lisa added as she picked up Jack’s book and got to her feet. ‘Don’t go taking advantage of your grandmother, young man. And don’t eat too much ice cream. You know what it does to your stomach.’ Cory was lactose intolerant.
Cory’s blue eyes went blank, exactly like his father’s had when she used to nag him over something.
‘Go give your mother a hug,’ his grandmother said, giving Cory a nudge in the ribs.
‘Be a good boy,’ Lisa whispered as she held him to her for a little longer than she usually did.
His weary-sounding sigh made her feel guilty.
‘Love you,’ she added.
‘Love you too, Mum,’ Cory returned. But there wasn’t a great deal of warmth in his words.
Suddenly, Lisa wanted to cry. And to keep holding him. Close.
But she knew he would hate that.
‘See you tomorrow,’ she choked out, struggling to keep back the tears as she let him go and hurried towards the door.
Her mother followed her out whilst Cory dashed off towards the pond with his jar of tadpoles.
‘You all right, love?’ her mother said.
Lisa tossed Jack’s book onto the passenger seat as she climbed in behind the wheel. ‘Yes, of course. Why shouldn’t I be?’
‘You seem a little more uptight than usual.’
‘I’m not uptight at all,’ Lisa suddenly snapped before banging the door shut and glaring at her mother through the open window. ‘Why do you always criticise me, Mum? I’ve been a good daughter, haven’t I? And I’m a good mother to Cory. I support myself and always try to do the right thing. So get off my back, will you?’
Regret at her sharp words consumed Lisa when her mother reeled back on her heels, shock in her eyes.
‘I…I didn’t realise,’ her mother said, obviously shaken by Lisa having a go at her. ‘I only ever want the best for you, love. But I can see I might have been a bit critical on occasions. Sorry. I’ll try to keep my big mouth shut in future.’
Lisa was torn between feeling vindicated at having stood up for herself, and guilty over hurting her mother’s feelings.
‘I’m sorry, too, Mum,’ she said. ‘I know I’m touchy. I…I haven’t been sleeping very well lately.’
‘Then it will do you good to get out,’ her mother said, all smiles again. Nothing ever got Jill Chapman down for long. ‘Who knows? You might meet a man.’
‘Mum…’Lisa warned.
‘What’s wrong with a mother wanting her beautiful daughter to meet a man?’
‘You know I don’t want to get married again.’
‘So? I don’t, either. But that’s never stopped me having a boyfriend.’
‘Or two,’ Lisa muttered under her breath as she started the engine. ‘Bye, Mum,’ she said as she let go of the handbrake and moved off. ‘See you in the morning.’
‘No need to rush,’ her mother shouted after her. ‘Sleep in, if you want to.’
Lisa found herself shaking her head as she drove off. In a weird way, she wished she’d told her mother the total truth about tonight. She would have liked to see the look on her face.
But the consequences were not worth that small moment of satisfaction. Her mother would have asked her all sorts of awkward questions, and jumped to all the wrong conclusions.
No, it was much better this way.
Once out onto the road, Lisa glanced across at the copy of The Scales of Justice lying on the passenger seat. She could not wait to get home and read it. Not the whole book, unfortunately. She wouldn’t have time for that. Not if she was to be perfectly groomed when Jack picked her up at six.
But she could surely manage a few chapters whilst she was soaking in the bath.
Lisa was anxious to find out just how much Hal was like Jack. He’d said on the phone last night how he liked to be prepared. Well, Lisa was going to be prepared too.
For him.
Chapter Seven
AS JACK drove up Tumbi Umbi Road, he started thinking it had been a long time since he’d looked forward to a date as much as he was looking forward to tonight.
Though tonight was not quite like any date he’d ever been on before. He had no expectation of ending up in bed with Lisa Chapman. In fact, he would put his money on that not happening.
His goal this evening was simply to get her to go out with him again. To make her see that she could have a social life without endangering her son’s moral standards. That she didn’t have to live like a nun, just because her husband had passed away and she didn’t want to marry again.
Jack still had no idea whether Lisa had loved the man, or loathed him. But he aimed to find that out tonight as well.
A tricky mission, however, he appreciated. Because Lisa was not the sort of woman who confided easily. She kept her own counsel. Look how she hadn’t told him she owned Clean-in-a-Day. That had been very secretive of her.
Still, a few glasses of wine might loosen her tongue.
There was always a lot of toasting at these award dinners. Surely she wouldn’t say no to a glass or two of champagne.
The large roundabout came up that Lisa had told him about, then the street on the left she’d said to take. Shortly he’d be there, at her house.
A quick glance at his Rolex showed Jack it was one minute to six. Punctuality was one habit from the army which he’d never shaken. As was wearing his hair cut very short.
He did manage to go a few days without shaving occasionally. But that was as sloppy as he could manage. He’d been sporting quite a bit of stubble yesterday, however, something which he’d thought afterwards might not have found favour with the very particular Mrs Chapman.
But his chin was as smooth as silk tonight. So was his very expensive tuxedo, which he’d had made to measure a couple of years back.
Jack hoped his more sophisticated look would spark some sexual interest this evening. Most women liked men in dinner suits.
Unfortunately, Lisa was not most women. She was different. Very different.
Challenging, that was what she was.
Jack smiled as he turned down her street. There was
nothing that excited him more than a challenge.
At five to six, Lisa had been close to panic. Nothing had gone as she’d planned this afternoon. Everything had taken simply ages!
Longest had been the applying of some false tan, necessary because the dress she’d bought was a one-shouldered style which showed a white strap mark. A tedious task in itself. But first, she’d had to bathe and shave her legs and exfoliate properly.
Absolutely no time for lying back and reading.
By the time all that was done to her satisfaction, it was after three. After a hurried snack, she tackled her hair, a time-consuming job as well. Again, probably because of nerves, the style she’d chosen to suit her very feminine dress just didn’t work out. In the end she shampooed her hair a second time and started from scratch again, this time putting it up into a French pleat, which she could have done in her sleep. But she was disappointed and frustrated that she couldn’t manage the softer, curlier look she’d wanted.
By this stage it was ten past five, leaving her less than an hour to do her nails and make-up and get dressed. The nails she managed without smudging, but it took twenty minutes. Transforming her naturally pretty face into something much more glamorous and sophisticated took another fifteen.
Foundation first, then blusher, then powder, then eye-shadow; smoky grey colours which deepened her corn-flower-blue eyes. Her hand had started shaking as she applied her eye-liner, Lisa muttering some uncharacteristic swearwords when she poked herself in the eye.
Her mouth came last, with Lisa waffling over which lipstick to use. And what colour. Her full lips didn’t really need to be made to look bigger. Lisa hated that bee-stung look. In the end, she just rubbed in some lipgloss with her fingertips.
Deciding what earrings to wear wasted another five minutes, her more severe hair-do crying out for something glamorous, not the simple pearl drops she’d been planning on wearing.
Unfortunately, glamorous hadn’t been on Lisa’s shopping list for some years. In desperation she dragged out some long, dangling gold ones Greg had bought for her one Christmas, also changing her cream high heels for open-toed gold sandals which hadn’t seen the light of day for yonks either.
Just as well they weren’t a style which dated.
By then it was ten to six. Time to get into her dress.
Stripping off her bathrobe, Lisa carefully slipped the dress over her head, sliding her left arm through the one armhole whilst protecting her hair with her free hand. The dress slithered down her body, the shoulder strap halting its progress. Lisa did up the cleverly hidden sidezip, slipped her feet into her sandals then walked over to inspect the final product in the full-length mirror which hung on the back of her bedroom door.
This was where the panic set in. Instead of looking ultra-sophisticated and coolly glamorous, she looked…well…she looked sexy!
Lisa could not believe it. The dress in itself wasn’t sexy. Just a chiffon sheath which skimmed her slender figure, the material graduating from cream at the top to a coffee colour down at the handkerchief hemline.
Unfortunately, the one-shouldered style meant she either had to wear a strapless bra or no bra. Given that the dress was fully lined and Lisa didn’t have large breasts, she’d decided on the no-bra option. She’d always hated strapless bras, which had a tendency to slip.
She hadn’t realised till this moment that her nipples would be so obvious. Or that she might look as if she had not a stitch on underneath.
Of course, she was wearing panties. But they were the sleek, stretchy kind which didn’t show a line underneath your clothes.
Lisa was about to rummage through her underwear drawer in search of a strapless bra when she heard the sound of a car coming down the street.
Too late, she realised when it throttled down outside her house.
Grabbing her cream clutch bag, she dashed over to her bedroom window, which overlooked the street below. The sight of a sleek black sports car parked next to her post-box made her groan. The neighbours were going to have a field-day if they saw her getting into that!
She was about to run downstairs and make a quick exit when the driver’s door opened and Jack climbed out.
At least, Lisa presumed it was Jack. The male who’d emerged and was currently striding up to her front door was remotely similar to the man she’d met the previous day. He did have the same nicely shaped head. And the same short, dark hair.
But that was where the similarity ended.
‘Oh, my,’ Lisa said in a soft, uncharacteristically breathy voice.
By the time he disappeared under the front porch, Lisa was shaking her head. Who would have believed that a change of clothes—and a shave—could make that much of a difference? Jack now looked just like his car. Sleek and powerful and sexy.
Sexy?
Lisa was taken aback. Since when did she start thinking any man was sexy?
Whirling away from the window, she marched off in the direction of downstairs, reminding herself the whole way down that being superficially attracted to a man was just that. Superficial.
She’d been attracted to Greg, who’d been a very handsome man. But she still hadn’t liked sex with him.
Nothing has changed, she warned herself, so don’t start hoping that it has.
The front doorbell rang on the way downstairs, Lisa’s wayward thoughts back in check by the time she reached for the door knob. There were still some butterflies in her stomach over the evening ahead, but she had every confidence she could hide those. She’d been hiding her anxious nature for years.
Jack appreciated, the instant she opened the door, why he hadn’t been able to get Lisa out of his mind all day.
He’d dated a lot of blondes in his time, as Helene had pointed out. But none had ever exuded what this one did.
She reminded Jack of an Alfred Hitchcock heroine. Lovely to look at. Sexy, in an understated way. But so icily self-contained that you wanted to reach out and pull her into your arms. Wanted to break her down. Wanted to make her lose her much prided self-control.
Her smile was polite. But her eyes remained annoyingly unreadable as they swept over him. ‘My, don’t you look simply splendid? Like James Bond on his way to a casino.’
It was a type of compliment, he supposed.
‘And you look like Grace Kelly, in To Catch a Thief,’ he countered.
Only with less underwear, he suddenly noticed.
Actually, if Jack hadn’t known better, he might have thought she was totally naked underneath her dress. She certainly wasn’t wearing a bra.
What he wouldn’t give to reach out right now and slip that thin strap off her shoulder. In his mind’s eye the dress was already slithering down her delicious body onto the doorstep, leaving her standing there wearing not much more but those sexy gold shoes.
When his own body began to respond to his mental fantasy, Jack forced himself to get a grip, clearing his throat and adopting what he hoped was a gentlemanly expression before reefing his eyes back up to her extremely beautiful face.
Her sudden blush startled him.
Because ice princesses didn’t blush. They accepted compliments with cool little smiles. Their cheeks didn’t go a bright red. Their composure was rarely rattled.
But Lisa was definitely rattled at that moment.
How interesting.
‘Thank you,’ she returned, confusion in her eyes, as though she was well aware she was not acting like her normal self.
Even more interesting.
‘Are you ready?’ he asked, quite pleased at how the evening was going so far. Who knew? He might not have to be super-patient after all. If he wasn’t mistaken, his little ice princess was already on the thaw.
Ready?
No, Lisa suddenly wanted to scream at him. No, I’m not ready. Not ready at all! I need a few minutes to find myself again. To find control. And composure. And to work out what happened when you looked me up and down just now.
Lisa was no stranger to men staring at her. She was used to hot, desire-filled glances. Even lecherous ogling.
Jack’s gaze, however, had not been at all lecherous. His eyes had betrayed nothing but a natural interest in her appearance. In truth, Lisa would have been piqued if he hadn’t complimented her.
What had upset her was her own reaction when he’d looked her up and down. Her skin had burned under the silky lining of her dress, her nipples tightening in a most disgraceful fashion.
She’d felt naked before him. Naked, and excited.
Yes, excited. That was what she’d felt.
No wonder she’d blushed.
‘Have you got your house keys with you?’ Jack prodded when she made no sign of moving.
‘What? Oh. Yes. Yes, I think so.’ She opened the gold clasp on her bag and made a pretext of inspecting its contents. ‘Yes. They’re here.’
‘Lock up, then, and let’s get going. I don’t like being late.’
Lisa used the few seconds it took to lock up to calm herself. But any headway she’d made was obliterated when Jack took her arm and started steering her down the front path towards his car.
Such a simple gesture. A gentlemanly gesture, really. But the moment his large palm cupped around her elbow, electric currents went charging up and down her arm, making Lisa stiffen all over.
She smothered a sigh of relief when he let her arm go to open the passenger door of his car, grateful when he allowed her to settle herself into the seat, unaided. But she could feel his eyes on her bare legs as she swung them inside, once again making her hotly aware of her semi-naked body underneath her clothes.
She clutched her bag in her lap as he swung the door shut after her, keeping her eyes steadfastly ahead, resisting the temptation to glance up at him, for fear of what he might see in her face. But when he came into view through the front windscreen, striding round the low front of his car, Lisa surrendered to the temptation to gaze openly at him, her thoughts reflecting her ongoing shock at how he was affecting her tonight.
Just before he opened the door and climbed in behind the wheel Lisa wrenched her eyes away, hopeful he hadn’t noticed her staring at him.
But what if he had?
Embarrassment curled her stomach. Please don’t let him have noticed. Please let me get through this evening without making a fool of myself.
Because that was what Lisa was suddenly feeling like. A fool. Not a frigid fool any longer. Just a fool.
Chapter Eight
JACK frowned as he gunned the engine. Talk about one step forward and three steps backwards.
For a split-second, when she’d blushed, he’d thought she was warming to him.
But just when Jack had started counting his chickens, the hatching had ground to a halt. She’d acted like a marble statue when he’d taken her arm. And now she was staring out of the passenger window and clutching that bag in her lap as if she was scared stiff he was about to pounce.
Clearly, he hadn’t hidden his desire for her as well as he thought he had.
Time to calm her fears with some distracting conversation, or this evening was going to be a total disaster.
‘Very nice place you’ve got there, Lisa,’ he said as he executed a U-turn and accelerated away. ‘It’s a credit to you.’
Her head turned and there was no mistaking the relief in her eyes. Obviously, she didn’t mind his complimenting her house.
‘I do like keeping it nice,’ she said. ‘But my mother says I’m too house-proud.’
‘Nothing wrong with being house-proud. Have you always lived here?’
‘Ever since my marriage. Though it looked like I’d lose the house for a while after Greg died. His insurance payout didn’t cover the mortgage.’
‘So what did you do?’
‘I couldn’t go out to work. I had a child and I hadn’t booked him into childcare. So I took in ironing and cleaned houses whilst people were at work. Anywhere where I was allowed to take Cory with me. I worked seven days a week. By the time I started my business, I was close to paying off the mortgage. I’m now free and clear of debt.’
‘Wow. That’s impressive, Lisa.’
She shrugged those slender shoulders of hers. ‘I did what I had to do. But what about you? Where did you live before you bought up here?’
‘In Sydney’s eastern suburbs. I still have an apartment in Double Bay. But I was finding it hard to write there. I bought the place in Terrigal as a kind of writer’s retreat.’