An Irresistible Bachelor(23)

She leaned forward and put her hands under his ears. "Sorry, Artie. I'm not used to waking up next to a man."

His tail went back and forth with a wider sweep as he rose on his hind legs and put the upper half of himself on the bed. As she rubbed his chest, she looked out the windows. By the pale gray in the sky, she guessed it was probably around seven.

"I imagine you want to go out." She didn't have a lot of experience with dogs, but figured his visit to the bed wasn't just a social call.

She was pulling on her jeans when she heard a knock at the door.



When she opened it and Jack was on the other side, she had her second jolt of the morning. He looked sexy as hell. His hair was still damp, the dark waves thick and shiny, and he had on a black sweater and blue jeans. The casual clothes looked good on him.

But what wouldn't, she thought, eyeing the span of his chest.

He smiled and leaned against the door frame. "Good morning."

"Yes?" she said, aware that she was staring and unable to help it.

"I've come for my dog."

"Ah—he's right here." Obligingly, Arthur appeared in the doorway.

"Did he keep you awake? He chases groundhogs in his dreams a lot."

Callie shook her head and tried not to smile, thinking if she felt more comfortable with the man, she might have asked how he knew they were groundhogs. "I sleep through anything."

"Good trait to have."

The conversation stalled and she began to fidget while he continued to look at her. She racked her brain for a way to get him to move along. She was quite sure there were more amusing things for Jack Walker the great to do, none of which would involve her standing awkwardly in a doorway trying to make small talk with him.

"Why don't you meet me downstairs," he said finally. "We'll head for the garage and you can set up your workshop."

"The sooner the better," she said under her breath.



Both his brows rose. "Are you always so focused?"

"I just want to get this job over with," she blurted. "What I mean is, I don't want to waste any time here." She shook her head. "Rather, I really—”


"Should I take your rush to get out of here personally, I wonder?" He straightened from his casual pose with a half smile. "Come on, Arthur."

Callie watched him and the dog go down the hall.

She had to admit, she liked the way he moved. What she wasn't quite so fond of was his habit of staring at her. She couldn't begin to imagine what he found so fascinating.

Although the larger problem, she supposed, was her response. The warm feeling that came over her skin and sank into her bones was disconcerting.

Mostly because she wouldn't mind getting used to it.

Shutting the door, Callie knew she shouldn't deny the truth. She was attracted to Jack in spite of his past with women and all his money. Part of it was physical, of course, but after last night there was more. His indignant response when he saw where his mother had put her showed that her comfort and her pride mattered to him. His sensitivity had been unexpected and the fact that he'd wanted to take care of her had been... appreciated even as she'd made a point to prove her independence to him.

She shook her head and reminded herself who she was dealing with.

An exhibition of good manners didn't mean he'd turned into Prince Charming. Ruthless men could still be polite. After all, her father had possessed the manners of English royalty and still managed to cheat on his wife for decades. Romanticizing Jack Walker was not in her best interests. If she really wanted to take care of herself, she'd work long hours and get out of his house as quickly as she could.

So yes, the man certainly could take her desire to get his project done fast personally.

After showering, she grabbed her toolbox and went downstairs, unsure of exactly where she was supposed to meet Jack. She listened and heard a voice down at the far end of the house. Following the sound, she eventually found him in his study.

He was standing behind a large desk, facing a set of French doors that were hung with maroon velvet drapes. The room was paneled in a dark wood and had a spectacular domed ceiling on which a scene of cherubim and clouds had been painted. Across from the desk, there was a black marble wet bar and a bank of TV screens that were silently projecting MSNBC, CNN, and CNBC.

She was about to knock on the doorjamb to get his attention when he barked into the phone, "I don't give a damn what he said. He cooked the numbers so I'm not doing the deal. Tell him he can find another sucker."