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Second Chance Proposal. Miranda LeeЧитать онлайн книгу.

Second Chance Proposal - Miranda Lee


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her hand without such a move being rude, but before she could do so his fingers tightened around hers. Her breath caught as a violently electric current raced up her arm and down through her entire body, tightening her nipples and belly on the way.

      So much for her having this insane sexual attraction under control!

      ‘I gather the estate agent got in a team of cleaners before the place was opened for inspection,’ Jack said as he walked on, a totally rattled Vivienne in tow. ‘The great-grandsons took away what furniture they wanted, so all the rooms are half-empty, which perhaps didn’t serve the sellers well. It highlighted how neglected everything was and I was able to negotiate a bargain. But enough of that for now. Come and see the view.’

      Thankfully, he let go of her hand once they reached the sun-drenched balcony, and Vivienne was quick to put some distance between herself and Jack, walking swiftly over to stand at the iron railing, which she gripped with both hands as though her life depended on it. And it did, actually, there being a considerable drop from the balcony onto the rocky hillside below.

      Not that she gazed down for more than a split second, her eyes soon returning to admire the view, which was as spectacular as Jack had promised.

      In truth, Vivienne had never seen a view like it, not just for its natural beauty but for the sheer size and expanse of the panorama. It felt like she was standing on a mountaintop looking out over treetops at the bay beyond. She had no idea how large Port Stephens was but it looked enormous! And so beautiful and blue. Of course, it was a cloudless spring day, so the colour of the water reflected the blue of the sky. Perhaps on a rainy day it might not look so spectacular. But today, Mother Nature was on show and it took Vivienne’s breath away.

      Though not quite to the degree that Jack’s holding her hand a minute ago had taken it away.

      Vivienne still could not get over the intensity of her physical response to something as simple as hand-holding. Her mind boggled at what she might do if Jack ever kissed her, or touched her in a more intimate fashion.

      Not that he was likely to, so she was safe on that score. But just thinking about it sent an erotically charged shiver trickling down her spine. Her hands tightened on the railing when Jack moved to stand beside her.

      ‘Well?’ he said somewhat smugly. ‘It is an incredible view, isn’t it?’

      Vivienne gritted her teeth as she turned to face him. ‘“Incredible” hardly describes it, Jack,’ she said, proud that she could sound so calm when she felt anything but. It was as well, however, that she was wearing sunglasses. They gave her a degree of safety. ‘I guess, if I had the money, I’d be tempted to buy this place too. That is one seductive view.’

      ‘It’s even better from the top floor,’ he said. ‘Shall we go take a look?’

      What could she say? No, I don’t think so, Jack. And no, I’m sorry, but I won’t be taking this job after all. He’d want to know why and she couldn’t tell him the truth, could she? Couldn’t confess suddenly to lusting after him with a lust to rival what Paris had felt for Helen of Troy. He’d think she’d gone barmy! Which, of course, she had. Totally, tragically barmy!

      ‘Shouldn’t you show me the downstairs apartments first?’ she said.

      ‘That can wait. Come on.’

      ‘You lead the way,’ she said quickly before he could reach for her hand again. ‘I’ll be right behind you.’

      Being behind Jack wasn’t totally without trouble; Vivienne was having difficulty keeping her eyes off his very nice butt, especially once he started up the stairs. In desperation she dropped her gaze to her feet until she reached the upper level which opened out into a spacious semi-circular landing, over which hung a very elaborate crystal chandelier.

      ‘I gather this was once Francesco’s private art gallery,’ Jack said. ‘But, as you can see,’ he went on, waving a hand towards where several paintings obviously had once hung against the heavily embossed wallpaper, ‘All the pictures are now gone.’

      ‘Would you like it to be an art gallery again?’ Vivienne asked, doing her best to refocus on business.

      Jack shrugged. ‘I’ll leave that decision up to you. I know I’ll like whatever you do with it.’

      Oh dear, Vivienne thought with some dismay, only too aware that she was slowly being sucked into a situation from which there was no escape. Because in truth she really wanted to do this job, wanted to transform Francesco’s Folly into the type of home Jack would love. His faith in her abilities was extremely flattering. And the house itself was a fantastic challenge. It was impossible to say no. And yet she knew she should. Nothing good was going to come out of working side by side with Jack. She could feel it in her bones—and several other parts of her body as well!

      ‘This way,’ he said, and walked over to the double doors in the centre of the semi-circular wall, throwing them both open and waving her inside with a flourish of his right arm.

      Vivienne walked past him into a massive rectangular-shaped living room, which she knew instantly would look fabulous if and when it was properly refurbished. Her designer’s eyes were picturing the room with its hideous wallpaper stripped off, the walls painted white and the dated furniture replaced by more modern pieces. The marble fireplace at the far end of the room could stay, but the rest would have to go, especially the heavy brocade curtains which framed the glass doors leading out onto the balcony, and which were simply horrible.

      ‘I can see that decorating head of yours is already ticking away, Vivienne,’ Jack said, smiling as he headed over to the glass doors. ‘But first things first, madam. The view!’

      Even from where she was standing Vivienne could see that the view from up here was even more spectacular than from the lower balcony. But to get there she had to brush past Jack, who was still standing in the half-opened doorway, waiting for her. She somehow managed to move past him without actually making bodily contact, hurrying over to the railing like the hounds of hell were after her. But as she closed her fingers over the top rung, leaning her weight against it at the same time, the whole thing suddenly shifted.

       CHAPTER NINE

      JACK SAW THE railing give way a split second before Vivienne screamed. With a burst of fear-fuelled adrenaline, he covered the distance between them with a speed which would later amaze him, grabbing at Vivienne as she began to lose her balance, her arms flailing wildly, her sunglasses flying off her face into the valley below. All he got hold of at first was the back of her suit jacket but it was enough to stop the momentum of her fall. Finally he managed to wind one firm arm around her waist and pull her back from where she was still teetering on the edge of disaster. She fell back against him, her scream silenced as she gasped for air. By the time he dragged her body back further from the edge of the balcony, her shock had turned to an almost hysterical sobbing.

      This time, Jack didn’t hesitate to comfort her, turning her trembling body in his arms and holding her close.

      ‘There there,’ he murmured, one of his arms wrapped tightly around her lower back whilst the other gently stroked the nape of her neck. ‘Stop crying. You’re safe.’

      But she didn’t stop crying. She wept on and on, Jack suspecting that her close brush with death might have released more emotions than just relief. Possibly she was crying over what had been happening in her life recently.

      Whatever, having her pressed hard against him was not conducive to his peace of mind. Or the peace of his body. Despite willing his sex-starved flesh to stay calm, it did not. Common sense demanded he push her away from him. But to do so whilst she was still sobbing so disconsolately seemed heartless. All he could hope for was that she wouldn’t notice he was getting an erection.

      Things went from bad to worse, however, when she moved her arms from where they’d been jammed between their chests and wound them tightly around his back, her head nestling into the crook of his neck. Now he


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