Could she really compete with the likes of Buffy Tanner and all the socialites on the party circuit?
I’m here. They’re not, Lucy firmly told herself, feasting her eyes on James as he skirted her car to open the driver’s door. He wasn’t as dashingly handsome as Josh, but he had a male animal magnetism that curled her toes. She wanted to see him stripped of clothes, wanted to feel the whole naked power of his masculinity. Everything had exploded on her this morning, all so sudden, so fast, but tonight…
The desire coursing through her was so strong, the touch of his hand was electric as he helped her out of the car, and her legs were definitely tremulous.
‘Here we are, safely arrived,’ James cheerfully remarked, guiding her to a flight of steps at the side of the house.
Probably the only safe thing done today, Lucy thought. ‘You were right,’ she acknowledged with a smile. ‘I doubt I would have found this place by myself. Better to be led.’
‘So now you can relax.’
Easier said than done. Lucy was wound up so tight, it was difficult to pluck out any line of normal conversation. ‘Nice position you have here, right on the water,’ she commented, sounding like a real estate person, buying or selling property.
‘Yes. It’s always good to come home to,’ he replied, warm pleasure in his voice.
Was it especially good, having her with him, Lucy wondered—hoped—and would being in his home reveal more of the heart of the man?
There were three flights of steps down to the waterfront with landings marking the split levels of the house. The door James unlocked for her was off the first landing. Lucy preceded him into a hallway, her shoes clacking noisily on polished wooden floor-boards, giving the house an empty sound. It made her very conscious of being really alone with him, and the door closing behind her punctuated the risk she was taking.
Every nerve in her body tensed but there was no sudden pouncing. James simply ushered her around a corner into a spacious foyer at the rear of a huge living area. As they stepped past the staircase which led upstairs, the whole ground floor, with all its dramatic interest, captivated her attention.
The foyer led into a kind of mezzanine level which virtually staged a magnificent black grand piano, and beyond it three exotically patterned sofas were grouped around a fire-place situated on the far wall which stretched up both storeys of the house to a domed ceiling of glass which flooded the area with light.
On the right of this level, a few steps led down to a dining-room, at the end of which were glass doors which gave a superb view of Sydney Harbour. On the left, matching steps led to an open-plan kitchen, its glass doors leading out to a large covered verandah which held more casual furniture for lounging or eating outside. Upstairs, a balcony ran around what had to be bedroom wings on either side of the mezzanine level with the high spectacular ceiling.
So struck was Lucy by all these fascinating features, she was barely aware of James moving past her to the kitchen, discarding his suitcoat and tie on a coat-rack along the way. This architectural wonder of a house, not to mention its prime location on the waterfront, had to be high in the millionaire class, and she felt swamped by what she had stepped into.
Would James ever see her as belonging in such a place as this? The office seemed like a world away. Yet he had chosen to bring her here, Lucy reminded herself.
‘What would you like to drink?’ he asked, jolting her back to the highly questionable issue of why he had invited her into the privacy of his home.
He had undone the top buttons of his shirt and was rolling up his sleeves. His virile energy hit Lucy anew, sending quivers through her stomach.
‘Gin and tonic if you have it,’ she answered, smiling ironically as she remembered having started all this recklessness last Friday night with a gin cocktail. Mother’s Ruin, Josh had called it, and it would probably be her ruin, too, but she’d gone too far now to reconsider the wisdom of an intimate involvement with James Hancock.
‘No problem,’ he responded with an ironic smile of his own. ‘You can hang up your bag on the coat-rack.’
Getting rid of extraneous items.
Lucy took a deep breath to calm her nerves and did as he said. ‘This must be a great place for entertaining guests,’ she remarked, trying to sound natural.
‘Yes. Most people find it friendly.’
He was busy making their drinks…ice-blocks and tonic water from a big, double-sided refrigerator, a lemon from a well-stocked bowl of fresh fruit, a bottle of Tanqueray gin from a liquor cupboard. Lucy stepped down to the kitchen level, ready to take her glass when it was ready. There was an island work-bench with stools around it and she was about to draw out a stool and sit on it when a voice rang out, freezing all activity.
‘Darling! So glad you’re home early…’
A female voice, rich with seductive delight, and coming from the balcony above them, the balcony that clearly led to bedrooms!
Lucy’s stunned heart burst into a killer drum-beat. She shot a sizzling glare at James. ‘Overlooked something?’ she hissed, venomous words spilling forth. ‘Like not telling darling up there that you play musical beds and her time was up?’
‘She shouldn’t be here,’ he muttered, frowning up at the apparition on the balcony.
Lucy spun around to get an eyeful of the competition. The woman was striding along the balcony towards the staircase, a gorgeous silk gown patterned with fiery dragons billowing around her, tousled red hair being finger-raked back from a face which was still obscured from Lucy’s view.
‘I’ve been resting but it’s definitely time for drinkies,’ the woman declared, obviously expecting her wishes to be served.
Lucy burned. Let James sort this out in front of her. If he didn’t send the woman packing, she would flay him alive with her tongue, not to mention telling his erstwhile lover what he’d been up to today. It was totally outrageous that he’d left this redhead in his bed, then within minutes of Lucy entering his office, slaking his sexual needs all over again with her. Buffy was certainly right about one thing. He was a pistol with women. And as far as Lucy was concerned, this was the showdown at the OK Corral.
‘Why aren’t you in Melbourne?’ James suddenly thundered up at the scantily clad woman who was ruining his set scene.
So the bird was supposed to have flown, Lucy thought caustically.
‘The black plague hit,’ came the insouciant reply. ‘I decided to escape any possibility of infection by getting right away from everyone.’