An Irresistible Bachelor(18)

Hell, he'd be lucky to get a quarter ownership of the thing, which would hardly justify the nine-digit investment they needed.

He'd learned long ago not to put his money into anything he couldn't get it back out of. His father had taught him that lesson. The first hundred thousand the man had "borrowed" from him had been lost into the ether. After that, Jack had required that some transfer of property, either real estate, jewelry, or art, occur in his favor before he wrote a check to Nathaniel Six.



God, his father had hated him for that. But the elder Nathaniel had been more horrified at the thought of going to a bank and begging for money from people he wouldn't have sit at his dinner table. Jack owned everything by the time Nathaniel Six died. The cars, the houses in Wellesley, Palm Beach, and the Adirondacks, the art collection, his mother's big jewels. His father, after starting with millions of dollars in the 1950s, had just under a hundred thousand dollars to his name when he was buried.

Jack activated the automatic door and heard it shut with a rumbling sound as he walked over to the porte cochere.

Having the Copley portrait in his possession meant everything to him. As soon as the painting was conserved, it was going back over the mantelpiece in the living room where it hung when he and his brother were growing up. In reclaiming the first Nathaniel, he felt like he'd closed the circle and all of the financial chaos his father had caused was over. Finally.


As he let himself in the house, he called out, "Callie? Hello?"

When there was no answer, he put his briefcase down and walked through the living room to the library, then through the den and the solarium. Lights were on in all the rooms, but she was nowhere to be found. When he got back to the front hall, he looked up the stairs and wondered if he should go hunting for her among the guestrooms.

A picture of her in one of his beds brought up images he was determined not to dwell on and he was debating the merits of going upstairs to find her when

he realized something was missing. Where was Arthur? The dog was usually waiting at the door for him.

Jack headed to the kitchen. Next to the sink, a bowl, plate, and fork had been carefully washed and left to dry, so he knew for sure she was in the house. No one else would have left dishes out like that. His mother rarely set foot in the kitchen and certainly never cleaned up after herself. The staff had the day off and Elsie would have gone home to have dinner with her own family.

He was resigning himself to a search of the guestrooms when Arthur came down the back stairs.

"What are you doing up there?" He bent down as the dog ambled over in his heavy way.

"He was with me."

Jack's head shot up.

Callie was standing at the foot of the stairs, wearing jeans and a navy blue fleece pullover. Her hair was all around her shoulders and he stared into her eyes, testing once again whether he had the color right, whether they really were that beautiful blue.

They were.

Before the silence continued for too long, he said, "I'm sorry I'm so damn late."

She shrugged. "Artie and I have had a fine evening, although I suspect he'd have preferred my dinner be a little less leafy. He doesn't seem to be a big fan of salad."

Jack's eyes narrowed as he assessed her mood. She really didn't seem perturbed. She'd been perfectly happy in an unfamiliar house all by herself, with just his dog as company.

So all that independence wasn't just an act, he thought.

"Are you already setting up your workshop?" he asked, nodding at the stairs. "I thought being over the garage would suit you better, but if you'd rather be in the house, that's fine, too."

Her brows lifted. "Actually, I've been reading about Copley and trying not to fall asleep before you got home."

He gave Arthur a sound pat on the ribs and straightened.

"So what are you doing in the staff quarters?"

"That's where my room is."

Jack frowned. ""What the hell—” He stopped himself. He didn't have to ask who'd put her up there. "You are not staying in the staff wing."

And he and his mother were going to have a little talk in the morning.

Callie pushed her hands into her pockets. "I'm quite comfortable up there."

"Don't be absurd." He started toward the stairs. "Let's move your things."

She raised her hands. "Look, I really don't care. All I need is a place to sleep."