An Irresistible Bachelor(19)

"How can you say that? I'll bet the last time you stayed in a room like that was back in prep school."

"I didn't go to prep school," she countered softly.

Jack stopped, frowned again, and then kept going. "Whatever. Come on, let's go."

He strode past her, thinking his mother's ability to stick her nose into things was unparalleled.



When he got to the head of the narrow stairs, he headed for the open door. "Where are your clothes?"

As she came into the room, she gave him a steady look. "In the drawers."

He glanced over at the small dresser. "Where else?"

"Nowhere else." She went and opened a drawer, gesturing over the shirts and sweaters that were neatly folded. "Just here."

Well, this was a new one, Jack thought.

He was used to women who needed a moving van to go away for the weekend. She was staying for a month and a half and her things fit in three drawers.

"You're a light packer."

She shrugged. "I don't need much."

"What about your tools?"

"In the closet."

"So let's pack you up," he said impatiently.

She regarded him evenly, as if weighing the inconvenience of moving against having to deal with him, and then she went over to the closet and took out a battered Samsonite suitcase that surprised the hell out of him. He'd have expected a Louis Vuitton matched set or even a bunch of Coach bags. Instead, her piece of luggage was ancient, orange, and looked as if it had seen a lot of cargo holds.

As he watched her move her clothes around, he realized something.

Whatever her relationship was with Grace, wherever that Chanel suit had come from, Callie didn't have much money. The things being taken out of the dresser were clean and serviceable, but inexpensive. There wasn't a lick of couture in sight.

When she was finished, he couldn't keep his voice from becoming gentle. "Do you have everything?"

Her eyes rose to his and narrowed, as if she'd caught the change in tone and would have preferred if he'd stayed impatient. After nodding with a strong chin, she picked up the suitcase and a wooden box covered with paint smudges, and headed out the door.

"Let me take something for you," he said as she banged her way down the narrow staircase.

"I've got it."

"At least let me take the suitcase."

"If I can get this load from Penn Station to your house, I can move it to another bedroom."

Penn Station? Jack frowned, picturing her with the heavy burden, transferring trains and walking through Back Bay Station. He had a feeling she'd probably skipped the taxi and taken the commuter train out to Wellesley, too. Which meant she'd also dragged the weight all the way up from the base of Cliff Road.

Damn it all, he thought, as he led her through the kitchen and up the main stairs. He assumed she would have flown in and taken a limo out from Logan Airport.

He felt like a heel.

"You should have told me if you needed transportation," he said. "I would have sent my plane for you."

He heard her stop moving and looked over his shoulder.

"I don't need any handouts," she told him. "I got here just fine on my own."

"But that's not the point. I could have made it easier on you."

"I'm not interested in easy."

He thought that was obvious, going by the luggage dangling from her hands. As she stared back in silence, her determination not to rely on him in any way irked the hell out of him.

"Struggling needlessly isn't the only way to become a martyr," he said dryly. "You could strap on a hair shirt and live on top of a pillar for a month or two."

She shored up the load, reminding him of how much she was carrying. "Tell you what. When I need to be rescued, I'll let you know."

He scowled and kept going, knowing it would be a cold day in the devil's living room before she would ask him for anything. And why that defiance bothered him so much, he couldn't fathom. Maybe it was just a tremendous change from what women usually expected of him.

Hell, even Blair, who was hardly a lightweight when it came to taking care of herself, relied on his jet, his contacts with Fortune 500 companies, and his connections in the art world. And he didn't mind that at all. In fact, he liked it.

When he got to the top of the landing, he took a right and led her down to the best guestroom in the house. As he opened the door and flipped on the light, he heard her gasp.