Very much.
And in liking him, she’d invested in him. Invested her emotions in him. She wanted to spend time with him. Wanted to know him in all ways — not just sexually and professionally. She just hoped he wanted it as much as she did.
She found the Big Mac a couple of minutes later, identifying it by the massive man on board. Her knees turned weak at the sight of him. Up until now, he’d only worn formal pants and ties around her. Today he was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt that hugged his muscles and made her legs grow weak.
Oh, yeah. She had it bad.
As soon as he saw her, he took the cooler bag from her hands — the one she’d stuffed full with yummy food and treats for them to share as they spent the day on the water — set it on the deck, and helped her on board.
“Hey, beautiful.” His voice sounded rough. A little off, as though he hadn’t slept last night, but she didn’t have time to analyze it or his expression. She had only a few seconds to notice the grey smudges around his eyes before he pulled her into his arms and held her there.
Held her tight. Held her close. Didn’t release her for a very long time. Which would have been perfectly fine with her — she relished the feel of his hard body pushed against hers, loved how beautifully they fitted together — if she didn’t sense something was wrong. Very wrong.
There was an unmistakable tension in his shoulders, and his breath was uneven, maybe too slow.
Even so, he held her as though he’d never let go, inhaled as though inhaling a little part of her.
“Jack?” She ran her hand up his back and down again, instinct telling her to keep her touch soothing. “Are you okay?”
He nodded against her hair. “Just want to hold you for a while. Need to hold you.”
Though he pulled her even closer, so her breasts were squashed against his chest and they stood thigh to thigh, there was nothing sexual about his embrace. She got the impression he sought…comfort. Maybe even strength.
“Hold away,” she whispered. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Long moments later a sigh rippled through her hair. “God knows you calm me, Miss Jones.” He gave her one more tight squeeze then released her slowly, placing a gentle kiss on her lips.
He didn’t say anything more. Didn’t explain why she’d felt knots in his muscles. Didn’t elaborate on how or why her touch calmed him. He simply busied himself preparing for their departure, not giving her an opportunity to ask questions.
She didn’t push him on the issue. If Jack wasn’t ready to talk, then Claire was okay to just let him be — so long as her presence comforted him.
A minute before he steered the small boat out of the Rose Bay Marina, he held his arm open to her. “Come stand with me.”
She made her way over to him and let him position her in front of him, her back against his chest, his arms stretching around her to direct the wheel.
Neither of them spoke as he expertly guided them past the hundreds of other boats and into open water. It was a beautiful, sunny day. Not too hot and not a breath of wind, save the air that rushed past them as the boat slipped through the water. A perfect day to spend on Sydney Harbour.
Claire still sensed the quietness in Jack, a need to just be. Whatever worried him still showed itself in his silence and his stance. And in the soft sigh that echoed through her ear. Even the air whistling around them could not conceal its melancholy.
Her chest constricted, and she turned to place a soft kiss on his neck.
He just tightened his hold on her and focused on the water ahead.
An hour later, when Jack had anchored the boat in a quiet cove, baited two rods and given her a quick lesson in fishing, they sat side by side, on two fold-up chairs. Seagulls squawked above them, looking on in hopeful anticipation of a big catch.
But her mind wasn’t on the fishing or the seagulls. It was on the man beside her.
His color was off. It wasn’t just the grey
And in liking him, she’d invested in him. Invested her emotions in him. She wanted to spend time with him. Wanted to know him in all ways — not just sexually and professionally. She just hoped he wanted it as much as she did.
She found the Big Mac a couple of minutes later, identifying it by the massive man on board. Her knees turned weak at the sight of him. Up until now, he’d only worn formal pants and ties around her. Today he was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt that hugged his muscles and made her legs grow weak.
Oh, yeah. She had it bad.
As soon as he saw her, he took the cooler bag from her hands — the one she’d stuffed full with yummy food and treats for them to share as they spent the day on the water — set it on the deck, and helped her on board.
“Hey, beautiful.” His voice sounded rough. A little off, as though he hadn’t slept last night, but she didn’t have time to analyze it or his expression. She had only a few seconds to notice the grey smudges around his eyes before he pulled her into his arms and held her there.
Held her tight. Held her close. Didn’t release her for a very long time. Which would have been perfectly fine with her — she relished the feel of his hard body pushed against hers, loved how beautifully they fitted together — if she didn’t sense something was wrong. Very wrong.
There was an unmistakable tension in his shoulders, and his breath was uneven, maybe too slow.
Even so, he held her as though he’d never let go, inhaled as though inhaling a little part of her.
“Jack?” She ran her hand up his back and down again, instinct telling her to keep her touch soothing. “Are you okay?”
He nodded against her hair. “Just want to hold you for a while. Need to hold you.”
Though he pulled her even closer, so her breasts were squashed against his chest and they stood thigh to thigh, there was nothing sexual about his embrace. She got the impression he sought…comfort. Maybe even strength.
“Hold away,” she whispered. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Long moments later a sigh rippled through her hair. “God knows you calm me, Miss Jones.” He gave her one more tight squeeze then released her slowly, placing a gentle kiss on her lips.
He didn’t say anything more. Didn’t explain why she’d felt knots in his muscles. Didn’t elaborate on how or why her touch calmed him. He simply busied himself preparing for their departure, not giving her an opportunity to ask questions.
She didn’t push him on the issue. If Jack wasn’t ready to talk, then Claire was okay to just let him be — so long as her presence comforted him.
A minute before he steered the small boat out of the Rose Bay Marina, he held his arm open to her. “Come stand with me.”
She made her way over to him and let him position her in front of him, her back against his chest, his arms stretching around her to direct the wheel.
Neither of them spoke as he expertly guided them past the hundreds of other boats and into open water. It was a beautiful, sunny day. Not too hot and not a breath of wind, save the air that rushed past them as the boat slipped through the water. A perfect day to spend on Sydney Harbour.
Claire still sensed the quietness in Jack, a need to just be. Whatever worried him still showed itself in his silence and his stance. And in the soft sigh that echoed through her ear. Even the air whistling around them could not conceal its melancholy.
Her chest constricted, and she turned to place a soft kiss on his neck.
He just tightened his hold on her and focused on the water ahead.
An hour later, when Jack had anchored the boat in a quiet cove, baited two rods and given her a quick lesson in fishing, they sat side by side, on two fold-up chairs. Seagulls squawked above them, looking on in hopeful anticipation of a big catch.
But her mind wasn’t on the fishing or the seagulls. It was on the man beside her.
His color was off. It wasn’t just the grey
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