Jennifer thought her uncle’s solicitor Robert Spaulding looked more like a balding vicar than a lawyer. His sharp, brown eyes darted between the three of them, looking into their souls for sins that needed exorcising.
Here we go. Jennifer watched him steeple his fingers. She readied herself for a sermon. On the other hand, she thought a sermon might be worthwhile if it meant they’d find out who Veronica was. She would surely be a beneficiary in his estate.
‘Your uncle, Bob Feldman, has left all his properties to the both of you.’
A hush fell over the room.
Robert Spaulding looked at Jennifer and Sofie in turn. ‘This includes his pharmacies in Point Piper and Kings Cross, his vineyards — you can see some of them from his kitchen — and, of course, his property here in town. Which brings me to Bob’s pharmacy and home, where you are staying at the moment. Under your uncle’s instruction, I held the building in trust for you both until his death.’
Jennifer’s chin dropped. The room with its book shelves, dark furniture and university degrees disappeared. Her eyes focused in on the little man opposite them, while her ears picked up Sofie’s heavy breathing.
Claudia laughed, eyes round. ‘Get outa here.’
Sofie didn’t respond to a gentle nudge in the ribs, so Jennifer shifted her gaze back to Mr Spaulding. ‘What did you say?’ she whispered, trying to grasp the meaning of what he’d said.
He tapped a pen on the documents in front of him. ‘It’s all here in the papers. You are now wealthy young women.’
Jennifer heard a strangled squeak come out of her mouth. She cleared her throat. ‘We never dreamt — I mean, at least I thought some of it would go to someone else, like Veronica. Why us?’
‘My guess is, you’re his family.’ Was that a wicked, little smile? Mr Spaulding had a sense of humour. The next moment he was serious again. ‘We know nothing of this woman Veronica.’
Sofie blinked, turning pale now. ‘I need a paper bag,’ she mumbled.
‘Mum, get a grip.’
‘What if our parents decide to contest the will?’ Jennifer put in.
‘They can try. In fact, their lawyer has contacted me already. As I explained to him, they can spend a lot of money contesting Bob’s will, but they will fail. Bob Feldman was adamant, he didn’t want his properties to fall into their hands. I am under strict instructions. Your uncle also had concerns regarding your brother, Bret. Bob decided against bequeathing your brother anything, only to have it squandered on harebrained schemes and gambling. However, he did make provisions for Bret: it’s a small boutique vineyard, twenty kilometres north of town. But you, Jennifer, and you, Sofie, hold it in trust until such time you believe Bret is responsible. Until then, you will both look after Bret as you see fit; Bob was adamant about that as well. There is a copy of a statement from your uncle in the file. Read it carefully.’
Jennifer’s mind reeled at this news. If she couldn’t cope, how must Sofie feel? She looked across at her sister, who stared wide-eyed at Robert Spaulding.
‘Probate will take a few months,’ he continued. ‘It’s a formality that everyone has to endure. You needn’t worry, your uncle made sure his properties were well managed. He kept a vigilant eye on all his accounts.’
Jennifer found her voice. ‘I don’t understand. We were close. He mentioned pharmacies, but we never thought to ask about his financial state. Why would we? We never took him up on his offer to help us financially either. And he did offer. Thinking back, he used to buy us gifts he thought we needed.’ She couldn’t stop herself and babbled on. ‘Are you sure Uncle Bob had no female friend, local people who helped him, the odd fireman, clergyman, Country Women’s Association members?’
‘You are the only ones. Though he had many friends.’ He nodded for emphasis. ‘Many. Perhaps one of them could have been a special lady. I wouldn’t know, nor is it any of my business.’ He opened a drawer in his desk, took out two fat envelopes, and handed one each to Jennifer and Sofie. ‘Bob kept his financial affairs close to his chest, he wasn’t one to boast. There’s something he said to me once, which might help you. “People behave differently towards you if they believe you have money. They want a piece of what you’ve got.” Having said that, your uncle was a very generous man.’
‘Yes,’ Jennifer admitted. ‘The family image thing runs deep.’
‘Bob knew you’d both be strapped for cash, as he would say. He left some with me to pass on to you. Take this folder too, all the legal documents are inside. Read them carefully and don’t feel overwhelmed; it’s all fairly simple.’
He buzzed his secretary. ‘Barbara, come into my office please.’
Barbara, a statuesque grey-blonde, wearing a crisp white blouse under a navy blue suit, came in and stood beside Mr Spaulding.
‘Barbara, I need you to witness these young ladies signing the trustee papers and counting the money. Jennifer, make sure you have two thousand dollars. Sofie, you should have three thousand dollars, one extra for Claudia.’
‘I’ve never seen this much cash,’ Jennifer mumbled.
‘Me either,’ Sofie whispered.
Claudia stared goggle-eyed at the envelope. ‘A thousand for me. Yay!’
‘All there? Good. Sign here, please.’ The solicitor pointed to the dotted lines on several sets of documents. An unexpected softness lifted his serious face. Eyes on Claudia, he paused. ‘My dear girl, let me just say that your eulogy was exactly what Bob would’ve liked and, ahem, your outfit too.’
Claudia beamed. Jennifer took Mr Spaulding’s hand and shook it, thanking him. Sofie stood up but didn’t move.
‘I’m sure my sister thanks you too.’
Out on the footpath, arms flapping, Claudia started jumping up and down with excitement.
‘Wow! Seriously sick. Mum, we’re rich! We can move from Manly into something huge. We can get the biggest LCD, wide-angle screen with surround sound. Oh, oh, I was so not looking forward to working as a checkout chick to save up for a car, and now I don’t have to. This is fantastic, I can’t wait to tell Skids!’
‘Holy crap — we own vineyards!’ Jennifer blinked at her sister, hoping it would help her understand.
‘I can’t get my head around this,’ Sofie mumbled. She frowned at her daughter. ‘You are not to tell Skids or anyone. I want you to be crystal clear on this, Claudia.’
‘Mum! Jeez.’
‘We own vineyards,’ Jennifer whispered to herself.
‘Jen! Help me out here, what do you think?’
‘Well…there are responsibilities that come with this,’ Jennifer nodded at Claudia. ‘People’s jobs, mostly. And I think what your mum is saying is, if the wrong people should find out, like whatsisface your dad, then — I don’t know, he might try something like demand half. And your mum wouldn’t want to deal with that.’ And there was Bret and his thugs. ‘If Bret happens to ring,’ she eyed both of them. ‘Do not say a word about this to him either.’
Claudia rolled her eyes. ‘Skids wouldn’t tell anybody.’ Jennifer gave her a stern look. ‘Okay, I won’t say anything to anyone.’ Another look from Jennifer. ‘I promise. Anyway, listen to the both of you, waffling on about negative stuff.’
‘I need a double shot latté,’ Jennifer announced and looked around for a café.
All three peered up and down the street. They couldn’t see a coffee shop among the many signs hanging under the wide awnings.
‘There’s Trudy, the florist. Stay here, I’ll go ask her.’ Stepping out of the shade and into the sun, Jennifer instantly felt the sting of its rays. As heat rose from the bitumen straight through the soles of her shoes, she picked up her pace and jogged across the street. ‘Trudy!’
The young woman, wearing T-shirt, shorts and Crocs, turned around.
‘Oh hi, you bought the yellow roses yesterday. Bob Feldman’s niece.’
‘Hi, just wanted to ask, is there a place in town where we can get a coffee?’
‘Sure, there’s the bakery and the teashop. Or the roadhouse — they make a great cappuccino with instant and lots of froth.’
Jennifer felt her shoulders slump. ‘I’ll try the bakery.’
‘Good choice.’ Trudy slanted her head and gave Jennifer the eye. ‘I heard Mrs Jarvis say, Calum’s been around the shop a fair bit?’
‘Has he?’ Jennifer questioned. On reflection, Calum hadn’t come around just for the sake of it. He always had good reason — hadn’t he? She wondered where this was going: part of her wanted — needed — to know, while another part cried out, run!
‘You can’t keep anything quiet in this town. Though Mrs Jarvis is no gossip.’ Trudy shook her head. ‘She said Cal was putting up smoke alarms to keep the adjoining shops safe. Others are saying there’s more to it than that, especially after Cal nearly smashed the front door trying to get in, you know.’ She gave Jennifer a quirky little shrug.
‘He was…that’s because he happened to be…’ Jennifer stuttered.
‘Anyway, don’t listen to blabbermouths or other rumours about Cal.’
Jennifer stiffened. ‘What rumours?’
‘It’s nothing really. A local girl got herself pregnant and pointed her belly at Cal.’ Trudy shrugged. ‘One day he’s every mother’s dream son in-law and the next he’s off their Christmas list. I don’t care about that sort of crap, he’s a doll.’
It was totally irrational. Nevertheless, Jennifer could not ignore the sharp pang in her chest. ‘I think we’ll go and find that coffee now. Thanks, Trudy.’ Frowning, she jogged back to where Sofie and Claudia waited.
‘What, no coffee to be had?’ Sofie smoothed away stray hair around Jennifer’s face.
‘Sure there is.’ Jennifer strode off, shoulders straight, thoughts racing. What did it matter to her what Calum was accused of? She barely knew him. Come to think of it, she barely knew Vlad, waiting fruitlessly back in London. He was definitely off her Christmas list; he just didn’t know it yet. A relationship was built on trust — and he’d lost hers when he’d taken money from her purse. Borrowed money and never returned it. Booked her on a cheap, dodgy plane and pocketed the change.
Strike three — you’re out.
* * *
Jennifer placed a small cardboard tray of coffees and lamingtons on the low breakfast bar in her sister’s motel room.
She sipped her espresso and sighed. ‘Hmm…this is good, and just in time, I was starting to hallucinate.’
‘You probably drink too much of the stuff.’ Sofie joined her, holding a folder of legal papers.
‘What am I going to do while you sit there reading?’ Claudia asked, biting into a lamington. Desiccated coconut and chocolate stuck to her lips.
‘We won’t be long,’ Sofie said. ‘Watch an in-house movie.’
‘Great,’ Claudia moaned and flopped onto the bed. ‘You should’ve let me bring my phone, Mum. Please can I use yours?’
‘We had a deal.’
‘Mum!’ Claudia whined. ‘At least let me text Skids?’
Sofie handed Claudia her mobile. ‘Don’t say anything about the will,’ she warned.
Jennifer opened the folder to find several large photos of their uncle’s vineyards. ‘Have you got these?’ Jennifer handed them over to her sister.
Sofie looked at them. ‘Yes, I’ve got duplicates,’ she whispered in awe.
Jennifer spread the photos out in front of her. ‘Stunning, simply stunning. I never dreamt they were like this. The buildings and home look like a small Tuscan castillo.’
‘There’s a lot we didn’t know about our uncle,’ Sofie said. ‘He took us there for my eighteenth, remember?’ She pointed to a photo of a beautiful sandstone mansion with terraces overlooking rolling hills covered in lush vines. ‘I never knew it was his.’
By early evening, Jennifer couldn’t stand any more of the mumbo-jumbo legal jargon. ‘I need an interpreter for most of this. C’mon, let’s go for a walk and find a place to eat.’
Stepping out into the setting sun that cast a rich orange glow over the countryside, Jennifer paused. If she ignored the Edwardian architecture and focused on the rolling hills covered with vineyards, she could be in Tuscany.
Jennifer tossed a coin. ‘Okay, heads for the RSL, tails for the pub.’ She peered down at her hand. ‘It’s the pub then. Come on, I’m starving.’ She hooked Sofie with one arm and Claudia with the other, and strode towards the hotel.
The twang of soft country music came from inside. A glass panel set into the door had Blue Sapphire Dining Room in fancy scrollwork etched into the glass.
Sofie and Claudia shoved the doors open. Jennifer followed.
Familiar aromas of herbs, garlic and char-grilled meat hit her nose, and her stomach began to rumble. They moved into a rustic timber dining room, and were greeted with soft lighting and large candles burning on every table. The battered timber tables looked as if they’d seen a few steel capped boots, belt buckles and various other sharp objects, such as knives. Clive had carved a love note to Betty: Clive loves Betty, Jan 1962. How sweet.
But something else of far greater significance caught Jennifer’s eye. The man had his back to her, but she knew immediately who it was. Calum sat with a group of men and women. Jennifer’s heart did a little flip-flop, her knees turned to jelly and her appetite vanished.
Sofie nudged her out of her stupor.
Knees, stomach, body — hello! Jennifer demanded she get a grip; this was just plain silly.
Sofie nudged her again. She leaned in close to Jennifer and whispered, ‘He’s just perfect.’
Jennifer’s mouth went dry. She turned to Sofie and whispered back, ‘Shut up, Sofe.’ She concentrated on walking casually, without bumping into furniture, to where Claudia stood selecting a meal from the chalkboard menu, hanging behind the salad bar.
A short, bald clean-shaven cook, wearing an apron over his shorts, a T-shirt stretched across bodybuilder muscles, and crocodile-skin boots, came out through a set of swinging saloon doors and waited while they studied the menu.
‘I’ll have grilled fish, chips, salad and orange juice, thanks,’ Claudia said.
‘Charred shark, woodies and OJ,’ he called out over his shoulder.
‘I’ll have a small prime steak and roast vegetables,’ Sofie added.
‘Prime moo and char veg,’ he called again.
Jennifer sighed. ‘I’ll have a salad. Or soup — got any soup?’
The cook’s heavy brows gathered in a frown; with an insane look in his eyes, he crossed his meaty arms and stared at Jennifer.
‘For God’s, sake, Jen.’ Sofie sounded impatient. ‘You were hungry a moment ago.’
‘Oh all right.’ Jennifer rolled her eyes. ‘I’ll have the prime moo and char greens, but make it small. Please don’t give me half a cow. And could we have two glasses of your house red? Thank you.’
They sat down in a quiet corner and discussed what they should do about their legacy, while Jennifer did her utmost to concentrate and ignore Calum’s beautiful back. He was leaning on the table, his white T-shirt stretched taut across muscles.
Mesmerised Jennifer lost all concentration.
‘Jen — Jen!’
‘Hmm?’
‘As Mr Spaulding said, all Uncle Bob’s businesses are running smoothly.’ Sofie stopped talking when the waiter placed the food and wine down in front of them. She took a sip from her glass. ‘We have to work out what to do with the shop and Uncle Bob’s home, soon-ish. And we have to sort through his personal belongings as well.’
‘We have two choices,’ Jennifer said around a mouthful of roast pumpkin. ‘Sell or lease.’
‘There’s a third.’ Sofie’s eyes were bright, her voice enthusiastic. ‘We can do something with it ourselves.’
Jennifer choked. She coughed into her serviette until her eyes watered and her face went hot. With her breathing under control again, she managed to squeak, ‘You can. I’ve got plans in London, remember? I’m about to sign a lease.’
Out of the corner of her eye, Jennifer saw Calum pivot on the bench seat, swing his long legs over, and head their way. A young redhead in a green smock approached him.
Smock! Was this the pregnant girl? It sure as hell looked like it. She was making a very public statement with her hand on his arm. It was better than an advertisement in the local paper.
Calum looked at her hand. Without a smile, he slowly raised his eyes to meet hers. She pouted and let her hand drop to her side. Jennifer couldn’t make out what they were talking about, but if their expressions were anything to go by, neither was happy. The redhead seemed put out when she flounced off, not that Jennifer cared, no sirree. So what if they’d had a hot, to die for, kissing session, that didn’t mean she was emotionally involved. Certainly not.
‘I doubt whether you need to work anymore,’ Sofie prattled on. ‘And remember how after we picked you up at the airport, you raved about Sydney Harbour, the bridge and sailboats on the water. The space we had and all the green trees and azure blue sky. Jen? Jen!’
Jennifer came out of her ‘Calum daze’ and managed to recall a few fragments of her sister’s rambling. ‘I enjoy working and London’s where I do it best.’ Sudden misgivings about London gave her an anxious feeling that constricted her chest, but she ignored it and continued. ‘I’ve made it my home.’ Jennifer paused as images of England flickered through her mind, but none of them were of a bright sunny day.
There must have been sun in London, but having left in the dead of winter, all she could remember, were grey skies, grey buildings, bare grey trees and grey streets. Grey people — and Vlad, who’d stolen hundreds of pounds from her. Oh fuck!
‘Why that funny look?’ Sofie asked, squinty eyed. ‘I bet you’re thinking about London and how drab it is.’
Her sister was uncanny sometimes.
‘Definitely not,’ Jennifer said quietly, brushing off any suggestion that she wasn’t happy. ‘Now, if you’re both finished, I need an early night.’ She began to sidle off the bench seat.
‘Going already?’ Calum held out his hand to Jennifer. To ignore it would have been rude. His firm grip — the grip that only a man who works with his hands would have — caused her breath to snag in her throat. Of course, it didn’t help that she immediately imagined those hands through her hair again, and all over her naked body. She tried to rein in her wayward thoughts, but it wasn’t easy. This quintessential Australian man, sporting a wicked grin, could fix anything with a pair of pliers and piece of fencing wire. He would protect his woman, his family, at all costs — and succeed.
‘Hi Calum, where did you spring from?’ Oh, very cool Jennifer. She wondered how she’d managed to pull it off — or had she? She pulled her hand free and folded her arms.
Sofie did an exaggerated eye-roll behind Calum. Claudia let her chin drop and her eyes bug out in a what-a-great-big-fat-lie expression.
‘I was with the wine festival committee,’ Calum answered. ‘It’s our first meeting of the year. Can I buy you all a glass of wine or a coffee?’
‘No thanks,’ Sofie piped in, sliding out off the bench. ‘We were just leaving. But you can stay, Jen; we’ll see you in the morning.’
‘No coffee for me either —’ Jennifer began.
Sofie switched on her art teacher voice. ‘Jen, sit. Stay. Relax. Have a brandy, they say it’s medicinal.’ She added a quirky smile that said, I-know-what-you’re-getting-later, then hooked Claudia’s arm in hers and moved towards the door. ‘And if Bret rings again —’ she began over her shoulder.
‘Unless they’ve caught up with him and cut an ear off or he’s dying, I won’t ring you,’ Jennifer promised. ‘Maybe I’ll turn my phone off before I go to sleep.’
‘Ooh,’ Sofie cringed. ‘Maybe that’s taking it a little too far.’ Without looking back, she waved and they were out the door.
‘You heard from your brother?’ Calum asked.
Jennifer’s reserve began to crack. Damn, bloody damn, talk about a fucked-up family. Would Calum judge her for her brother’s stupid choices? Wait a minute; she’s not supposed to care. But his warm sincerity and soft gaze were impossible to ignore.
‘Nothing else. You know it all.’
‘I still think you should tell Brock.’
‘What would I say? A couple of men had my brother but he’s now on his way to Darwin without them?’
‘I see your point.’ Calum gave her hand a gentle squeeze.
‘He’s not a bad kid brother. Sofie and I had Gran to give us time and love. She taught me how to cook, and Sofie how to garden and teach. But Gran died before she had a chance to show Bret anything, especially how much she would have valued and loved him. Our parents were only ever interested in money and image, and that’s what Bret has to overcome. And if I didn’t keep warning Sofie not to, she’d give him all her energy and have nothing left for herself or Claudia.’ Jennifer downed the rest of her wine.
‘He sounds like a survivor,’ Calum said kindly. ‘He’ll either keep doing what he’s doing, or with help — not necessarily yours — make better choices.’
‘That’s so fatalistic.’ Jennifer ran her fingers through her curls.
‘What else have you got? You can’t keep beating yourself up for something you have no control over.’
‘No, but try and stop me, it’s in the genes.’
Calum chuckled. ‘Given half the chance, I would…’ he left his statement hanging.
Jennifer couldn’t help the giggle. ‘You seem to have a solid background, I’ve met your grandmother and your younger sister. Where are your parents?’
‘They’re on their second honeymoon in Paris. They’ve never been anywhere, and when Michelle proved to be a responsible teenager, they took off before they lost their nerve. They bought a motor home and they’re touring Europe. They’re having the time of their lives.’
His soft smiling eyes captured hers, there was something in their depth, something she’d never experienced before and it made Jennifer’s belly melt and breath catch. Not wanting to deal with him and his warm gaze, she forced herself to ignore it. Besides, the man must feel confused, and who could blame him, the goings on in her family were enough to baffle anyone.
Jennifer rubbed her face, which didn’t help her resolve her problems.
‘Come on,’ Calum said gently, ‘you’re tired, I’ll take you home.’
‘Yeah, thanks…home sounds good.’ Oops. Home was in London.
* * *
Calum parked his Range Rover out the front of the old pharmacy. After getting out, he rounded the hood and opened the door for Jennifer.
‘Thank you,’ she smiled up at him. ‘I thought opening doors for women was a lost art.’
‘You have met my grandmother?’ The beginnings of a smile tipped the corners of his mouth.
‘I get your point.’ Jennifer pulled the key from her back pocket. ‘Thanks for driving me home,’ she said, facing the door. ‘I’d ask you in but…’
His broad hands gently squeezed her shoulders. Calum turned her to face him.
Oh my, he’s going to, isn’t he…again. Her heart thudded. The hot, intense, slightly mystified look he gave her, as if she’d been missing all his life and now here she was, melted Jennifer’s bones. He drew her in closer until they were almost touching. His eyes locked with hers. Then she felt the warmth of his big, strong hands slowly caress all the way up her neck to gently hold her face. God, kiss me quick before I die.
He dipped his head. His lips brushed hers. ‘I’m going to kiss you again, Jennifer. Any objections, take it up with me tomorrow…over breakfast.’
His deep, vibrating voice went straight down to pulse the swelling nub between her thighs. Oh! That surprised her. Then his mouth was on hers, strong and firm. She let out a long sigh that quickly became a sensuous moan. Calum responded with a hungry rumble from deep in his chest. His warm mouth, tasting of wine, eagerly explored and teased hers. He ran the tip of his tongue along the silken underside of her lips, then softly pushed into her mouth, rolling and playing with hers. His hands moved down around her back. Arms encircling her, he pulled her in tight against his rugged body.
Oh my! Her belly yielded to his erection. Whimpering softly, she squirmed against his hard shaft.
Damn it, she wanted to feel more of him. The front door key in one hand and purse in the other, prevented her from touching, roaming, squeezing. She yearned to feel him. ‘Hang on a min —’ she mumbled against his lips.
He moved down to her ear and gently sucked on the lobe, then nibbled her neck while taking the key and purse from her hands. They disappeared behind his back.
The way he did that, taking charge, taking control, damn that was hot.
She was free to explore, and all her plans — not to have sex, not to invest her emotions and become involved — evaporated.
Street lights captured his aroused, hooded, dark eyes as he searched her face, and more heat uncurled in her belly.
Don’t stop. Don’t stop. Unconsciously, she licked her lips.
Calum’s gaze zeroed in on her tongue, a teasing smile played on his mouth. ‘That was unfair,’ he said, voice deep, sexy. Then his mouth was on hers again, and the world around her spun and disappeared.
She brought her hands up his back, feeling the valleys and plains of his hard muscles under her open fingers and palms. He moved her into the darkened alcove, away from the streetlights. Oh god, what was happening to her legs? The exquisite feeling rolling in the pit of her stomach flooded her limbs. He crushed her against the door. His body hummed with a potency that overwhelmed her. His hips moulded into hers and she felt his erection twitched hard against her belly.
Oh my God!
His hand went around to a back pocket. She heard the jangle of keys, and a second later, the door swung open. Mouth on hers, feet wide apart, Calum lifted her, shuffled back, and kicked the door closed behind them.
Body quivering with need, Jennifer had never experienced anything as sexy as Calum. Hungry for him, she took their kiss deeper.
‘I want you…’ he whispered against her mouth, ‘…be inside you, feel you all around me. Say it now. You don’t want? I’ll stop.’
‘Stop?’ Jennifer squeaked, her body tightening with fear that he would. Alarmed, she cleared her throat and held on to him tighter, then she whispered, her voice thick, urgent, ‘There’s no stopping. No-no.’
He shoved her against the nearest wall, hauled her pants and undies down. She kicked them off her ankles while her trembling hands pulled at his T-shirt and popped the button on his jeans. He whipped a foil packet out of a pocket before his pants fell to his feet. Watching him slip the condom over his hard cock made her sex twitch and wet with need. She couldn’t wait to have him. His big hands moved around her back to clutch her bottom. He picked her up, then his mouth came down on hers. Possessive. Hungry. Sexy. She wrapped her legs around his hips and arms around his neck, she hung on. Palms cupping her bottom, his fingers reached under her and found her sex, then he slid his finger over her erect nub.
‘Fuck, you’re wet. Wet for me. All for me,’ he said, amazed, as if it were a precious gift.
She moaned into his mouth, pulled back and groaned, ‘Calum, stop teasing.’
He eased her down over his erection. ‘Oh God,’ she cried out and arched back, feeling herself stretch to accommodate him. She came back to gaze into his heated eyes. Holding her still, he rocked his hips. Throaty noises escaped her. Calum pushed in hard, thrusting her up against the wall. She became more urgent, her orgasm building, flooding her in tingling heat.
‘Close?’ Calum growled.
‘O-oh God yes. Cal — now.’ He pushed in deep and ground his hips against her.
Digging her fingers into his shoulders, Jennifer’s body quaked with every pulse that fired through her and she moaned with every outward breath.
Calum slid out and in one more time then, eyes locked with hers, she watched, when with a groan, he climaxed. ‘Fuck!’ his harsh whisper echoed through the empty shop. Breathing hard, he nuzzled her neck, holding, squeezing her to him as if she were his lifeline.
‘You okay?’ he murmured sweetly.
Jennifer planted her forehead on his shoulder. ‘I’ve never felt better.’ And that wasn’t a lie, she tingled with satisfaction…and wanted more of the same, more of Calum.
He lifted his face out of her neck; still inside her, he cupped her bottom with one hand, the other slowly moved over her hip, waist, breast, up to her shoulder, neck, and face. His fingers drove into her hair, bunching it at her crown, he pulled her head back and plundered her mouth with his. Holy cow, that was incredible.
When he stopped, Jennifer was ablaze and panting.
His beautiful eyes searched hers, his mouth fluttered and he said, ‘Yeah, there it is.’ His hand moved out of her hair to cup her jaw, thumb sliding over her lips.
She wanted to ask, what it was he was referring to, though she pretty much knew…he saw the unrestrained Jennifer. Her wild side.
He moved his hand from under her bottom, and hooked his arm around her thighs. Jennifer let out a strained squeak as he lifted her up over his shoulder. He hauled his pants up, and squatted a few times to gather discarded clothes. He strode for the stairs and went up, two at a time.
Jennifer pressed her hands to his back and pushed up. She managed to reach his ear with her mouth; licking around the edge and grazing it with her teeth. She sucked the lobe; it popped out of her mouth as he set her down in the pink bedroom.
Arms over his shoulders to his back, Calum gripped his T-shirt and hauled it off over his head, then stripped off his jeans and sneakers. She watched as his heated gaze slowly travelled over her body.
‘Fuck you’re beautiful.’ He stepped in, wrapped his arms around her, dropped his forehead, and rested it against hers. With a determined look in his eyes, he whispered, ‘I’m staying the night.’
‘Why?’
‘Thugs.’
She gave a throaty laugh. ‘That’ll do it,’ she murmured, enjoying the feel of his skin under her hands.
* * *
Jennifer woke to the sound of her vibrating phone drumming on the old timber floor. Calum’s heavy arm felt comfortable wound around her waist; her bottom, tucked into his groin. Nice. She didn’t want to move, but so as not to wake him, she carefully circled her finger around his wrist and started to lift his arm. He gave a low grumble, and tightened his hold.
‘Sorry,’ she whispered. ‘Want to get to my phone, and use the bathroom.’ He gave her a squeeze, and like a caress, he slid his arm off her waist and let her go. Jennifer swung her legs over the side of the bed, snatched up her cargo pants, and picked up her phone. The moment she had it in her hands it stopped ringing. She headed for the bathroom and keyed into missed calls. She didn’t recognise the number, but just in case it was Bret, she called back.
‘Well, if it isn’t the sister.’
‘Shit!’ she hissed.
‘Don’t hang up, bitch. Your brother won’t get very far; you hear from him, tell him we’re comin’ for you and the money.’
Jennifer sucked air in through a constricted throat, which sounded just like air squeezing past a stretched neck of a balloon. Muttering curses, she jabbed end call several times and felt a presence behind her. She swung around, catching her pale and terrified expression in the mirror. It was difficult to form words her mouth was so dry.
Calum pulled her into his arms and held her to him. ‘Talk to me,’ he murmured.
‘Thugs.’ She dug her fingers into his back. ‘They’re coming for me.’
He tightened his hold. ‘Talk to Brock.’
‘I can’t. I don’t want anyone to be bothered by our problems.’
‘What are you saying?’ Frowning, Calum leaned back to look at her.
‘We’ve got to leave. Save everyone from having to deal with city gangsters coming to Tumble Creek. I don’t know how nasty these goons are, and I don’t want them here. It’s scary as hell.’ She pushed out of his hold and turned, but Calum hooked an arm around her waist and tucked her back to his front.
‘We’re not a bunch of country bumpkins that we can’t handle a couple of dickheads. They don’t know you’re here.’ His voice rumbled deep, caring, understanding, giving. ‘The only way they’d find this town is if they followed Bret, and they don’t know where he is otherwise they wouldn’t be hassling you.’ He kissed the back of her neck, slowly moving around to the side and up to her ear. ‘What we had last night wasn’t a one off.’ His hands dipped down to her belly where, palm flat, he made lazy circles on her skin. God, his touch felt so good, she sank back into him.
Belly! A pregnant woman’s belly! Jennifer tried to ignore his caresses. Damn it, she shouldn’t have lost herself last night and shouldn’t be doing this now. No-no-no. Pregnant woman! Not staying! She lived in London where there were no thugs about to descend — London where her dream restaurant waited!
A heartbreaking groan left Jennifer’s throat and she lunged out of Calum’s arms. What was she thinking? This was a small town with big gossip and rumours and thugs and a pregnant woman pointing her belly at Calum. Rash judgements and self-doubts overruled her heart. She thought it best to save everyone embarrassment, and leave now.
‘Jen, what the fuck?’ he said, voice scary, eyes dark, questioning.
‘I’ve got to go.’ She gasped and pointed her finger at him, saying, ‘No — you’ve got to go!’
‘Jen, I didn’t mean to rush you, but this is bullshit. You were enjoying it as much as I was.’ Frowning he shook his head and paused. And in that brief moment it seemed he came to an understanding. His expression softened. Jennifer braced herself for his tender attempt at coaxing, and she was right. His eyebrows rose and he leant forward, and gently told her what he believed to be true. ‘I know that you know we have something going here. Something special to explore together.’
‘I’m in way over my head. I’m not a one-night stand kind of woman either, but I have…long-standing commitments in London. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…’ she pleaded.
Calum’s hands dropped to his sides. He stood motionless, and didn’t do a very good job at hiding his disappointment. Too bad, Jennifer tried to tell herself as her heart broke in two. She couldn’t get the thought of the pregnant woman out of her head and the way she’d made a public claim on Calum. For goodness sake, who else could she have been?
‘There’s a rumour around town that you made a girl pregnant. Are you the father?’ The hurt look on his face squeezed at her heart. She instantly regretted the words that had tumbled from her mouth. Staring at him, she wished the floor would swallow her up.
Understanding flashed in Calum’s eyes. ‘I see.’ His hand fell on his chest. He gave her a curt nod and backed away. Deep sadness, and if it was possible, even deeper disappointment etched his face. Without another word, he turned and strode out of the bathroom, shoved on his jeans, T-shirt and boots and, without a backward glance, he was gone.
Jennifer covered her mouth to hide the sobs racking her throat. What had she done? No one had ever made her feel like that. And she’d never felt a man shake for her either. Her mind spun and, on the verge of collapse, she leant against the bedroom door. She collapsed on the bed and sobbed into her pillow. The only thing she was good at was being a chef. She had a business partner, a lease to sign, a restaurant to open in fabulous London.
She had to leave!