Second Chance Proposal: A Man Without Mercy / Bring It On / Rancher to the Rescue

Jack’s eyebrows lifted. ‘Fancy that. I had porridge too. And you’re right. It does stick to your ribs. But I think we might still have a coffee break at Raymond Terrace.’

‘I’m not sure where that is. I haven’t been up this way before.’

‘Really?’

‘To tell the truth, I haven’t done much travelling of any kind. Never even been out of Australia.’ Or Sydney, for that matter, she didn’t add. No point in courting more awkward questions.

‘I haven’t travelled all that much, either,’ Jack replied. ‘If and when I do take a break, it’s to places that it doesn’t take long to fly to, like Bali or Vanuatu and Fiji. You know me—busy, busy, busy.’

‘Maybe it’s time you slowed down a bit.’

‘I couldn’t agree with you more. That’s one of the reasons I bought Francesco’s Folly.’

‘Francesco’s Folly,’ Vivienne repeated thoughtfully. ‘Do you know why it was called that?’

‘The estate agent said Francesco was the name of the Italian who built the place back in the late seventies. The folly part will be self-explanatory once you see the place. I gather our Italian had a large family, most of whom he outlived. He finally passed away a couple of months ago at the age of ninety-five. His two great-grandsons inherited the place but they both live in Queensland and wanted it sold, pronto. Which is where I came in.’

‘I can’t wait to see it,’ Vivienne said.

‘And I can’t wait to show it to you,’ Jack replied.

CHAPTER EIGHT (#ud8887f14-a148-5fbf-8088-29c9a3d45c2b)

IT TOOK THEM longer than anticipated to reach Port Stephens, stopping for over half an hour on the Pacific Highway just north of Newcastle. Jack answered several missed business calls and Vivienne had a nice long chat with Marion, who was pleased to hear that her friend was feeling better and planning to get back to work, though not necessarily with Classic Design.

After leaving Raymond Terrace, it took them a good forty minutes to drive to Nelson’s Bay—the main seaside town in Port Stephens—where they picked up the keys from the agency handling the property, then made their way to Francesco’s Folly, which was near an area called Soldier’s Point. Despite having enjoyed the drive and the scenery, by the time Jack turned his Porsche into the driveway of their destination, Vivienne was keen to see the house.

And what a house it was! Only two storeyed, but it looked like a mansion perched up on top of a hill. Mediterranean in style, it was cement-rendered in a salmon-pink colour and had more archways and columns than Vivienne had seen outside of a convent or a museum.

‘Heavens to Betsy!’ Vivienne exclaimed as Jack drove up the long, extremely steep driveway.

Jack grinned over at her. ‘It’s pretty spectacular, isn’t it?’

‘Not quite a traditional Aussie holiday house, I have to admit. A mad mixture of Tuscan villa and Greek palace. What’s it like inside?’

‘Extremely dated. Trust me when I say you’ll have your work cut out for you to transform it into something I could live with on a permanent basis. But the views, Vivienne. The views are to die for.’

‘But Jack, it’s enormous!’ she said as they drew closer and she began to appreciate the true proportions of the place. ‘Are you sure you want to buy a place this size? I mean...it would be different if you were married with a big family, like Francesco was.’

Jack shrugged. ‘I have two married sisters with a total of five children between them. And a mother with a lover. They’ll use the place, too. Though, to be brutally honest, I’m not buying it for them. I’m buying it for myself.

‘I knew the moment I walked out onto one of those balconies up there that I wanted to live here,’ he said, pointing to the balconies, which spanned the full length of both floors. ‘Maybe not twenty-four-seven just yet, but at least at weekends and for holidays. Call me crazy if you like but that’s the way it is. Now, stop trying to talk me out of this, Vivienne,’ he said as they drove round to the back of the house. ‘It’s a done deal.’

The back of the house was where the garages were located, along with the main entrance to the house, guarded by two huge brass doors with equally huge brass locks. The tarred driveway also gave way to a gravel courtyard, the wheels of the Porsche making crunching noises as Jack brought his car to a halt in front of the multiple garages.

‘Leave that behind,’ Jack ordered when she picked up her bag. ‘I don’t want us being interrupted by phone calls. I’ll leave my phone behind as well.’

‘What about my camera?’ she asked. ‘I’d like to take photos.’

‘No photos first up. Just your eyes. Come on.’

She did as ordered, despite thinking to herself that if she agreed to do this job she would have to learn to bite her tongue a lot. Jack really was a control freak, in her humble opinion. She smiled a wry smile when he made her stand back while he unlocked the brass doors and pushed them wide open, after which he turned and stood, still barring her way.

‘Now, before you call me a liar,’ he said. ‘This first part of the house is not too bad.’

Vivienne almost laughed when she walked inside. ‘Not too bad’ was a serious understatement! The foyer alone was quite magnificent with a vaulted ceiling and an Italian-marble floor, an elegantly curved staircase on each side leading up to the first floor. Straight ahead was a wide columned archway, beyond which lay a huge indoor swimming pool, which seemingly stretched for ever, before running under another columned archway and ending out in the sunshine.

‘Wow,’ was all she could think of to say.

‘Yes. The pool is Hollywood wow,’ Jack agreed. ‘Not solar heated, however, something which I would want to have done. But that wouldn’t be your problem. Yours is the décor of the rooms, which are many and varied.

‘On each side of the pool there’s a self-contained three-bedroomed apartment,’ he explained as he took Vivienne’s hand and led her along the left side of the pool. ‘In recent years, Francesco used to let them out in the summer. But that was before he became ill. After that, he just lived upstairs, the downstairs apartments were left empty and the whole place became run down.’

‘It doesn’t look that run down,’ Vivienne said, trying to keep her focus on her surrounds and not on her hand in Jack’s. Lord, but she wished she could extract 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.’