Chapter Four
JACK SIPPED HIS wine and listened to the evening sounds of Sylvie’s thriving garden.
He had never taken her for a green-thumb type as her hands were always neatly manicured and her nails painted a soft pink.
But he knew how stressful being a lawyer was, especially one who dealt mostly with divorce.
Like doctors, lawyers were not encouraged to allow their emotions to cloud their judgement.
It was a tough gig—at times you had to make challenging decisions that not everyone was happy about, but the law was the law.
Having some sort of hobby or recreational outlet was a wise choice in such a demanding career.
As much as Jack tried not to think about it, he could not stop his mind from imagining Sylvie upstairs showering away her workout perspiration.
He had never seen her so casually attired before.
Without her formal tailored clothes and neat hair and make-up, he had seen a different side to her that sparked his interest even further.
Her close-fitting workout gear clung to her slight curves in all the right places, leaving nothing to his imagination.
When she handed him the wine, he had caught a faint whiff of her heated body, the scent flaring his nostrils and sending a wave of warmth through his blood that was still thrumming in his veins.
Jack took another sip of wine and breathed in the scent of night-scented stocks to the right of where he was sitting.
There was another pot full of scarlet geraniums a few feet away.
He wasn’t much of a gardener having been brought up on his grandparents’ expansive estate tended by a team of gardeners, but even he could not ignore the intoxicating scent with its delicate hint of cloves.
The garden was a mix of formality and casualness, structure and looseness that hinted at the complexity of its owner’s personality.
Jack glanced towards the back of the garden and something small and furtive darted out of sight behind a shrub.
He narrowed his gaze, wondering if he should warn Sylvie of the rat he thought he had seen earlier in his own back garden.
Worksites were notorious for attracting vermin, especially when some of the workmen doing his house had not been as tidy about their food scraps as he would have liked.
When Jack heard Sylvie approach, he stood and turned to look at her.
She had pulled her still damp hair back from her face in a high ponytail and was now wearing slim-fitting blue jeans and an open white linen shirt with a black tank top underneath.
She had not put make-up on other than a bit of lip gloss, which gave her a girl-next-door vibe that was completely different from her more formal work look.
Her feet were in slip-on sandals with heels that lengthened her slim legs and showcased her neatly painted toenails in a pink a shade or two darker than her fingernails.
He could smell the fruity smell of her shampoo and conditioner, and he wondered if he would ever look at an apple or strawberry again without thinking of her.
Whoa, buddy. Put the brakes on. You’re just interested in a fling, remember? His rational mind gave him a stern reminder but still he couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was even more beautiful with wet hair and without the make-up and expertly tailored clothes.
Sylvie glanced at his barely touched glass of wine before meeting his gaze. ‘Would you like a top-up?’
‘No, this is fine. I was waiting for you to join me.’
There was a look of something in her eyes that told him she had noted the good manners his grandparents had drummed into him.
‘Thank you.’ She sat on the wooden seat as far away from him as possible and Jack smiled to himself.
The challenge of winning her over was not going to be easy to achieve but it would be even more satisfying once he did.
He didn’t doubt that he would accomplish his goal.
It wasn’t in his nature to give up at the first hurdle.
The thrill of the chase was zinging through his body like an electric current.
He was turned on by her cool manner towards him because he sensed it was a defence mechanism, a wall she had built around herself.
Jack waited for her to pick up her wine glass before he picked up his.
He watched her lips as they pursed on the rim of the glass to take a sip, then the up and down movement of her elegant, swan-like neck as she swallowed.
The evening light cast a glow over her heart-shaped face and her eyes appeared as dark as chocolate.
Jack tilted his own glass to sip his wine, then held it in his hand, nodding towards the back of the garden. ‘I hope you’re not squeamish about these things, but I thought I saw a rat a moment ago.’
Sylvie’s eyes rounded in horror, and she gave a little shudder, which made the wine in her glass splash against the sides like a tidal wave in a teacup. ‘A…’ she gulped ‘…rat? Where?’
He pointed to the back of the garden. ‘Down there. I didn’t get a good look because it darted out of sight, but I saw one in my garden when I called in briefly last night.’
‘Are you sure it was a rat? The one in your garden, I mean?’
‘I know a rat when I see one.’ Jack couldn’t stop a shudder of his own. He wasn’t a big fan of the creatures, but he would man up and do the right thing if Sylvie needed one disposed of…even if his gut roiled at the thought.
Her eyes surveyed the back garden for a long moment before she brought her gaze back to his. ‘Are you sure it wasn’t a cat? A small greyish tortoiseshell one?’
‘Do you have one?’
Sylvie twisted her mouth in a wry manner. ‘Well, not really, but I’ve been trying to tame a stray one. She’s only young and is starving.’
‘How do you know it’s female?’
‘The colour. Tortoiseshells are generally female, and gingers are generally male. It’s a genetic thing.’
‘How close have you got to her?’
‘Not close enough to pat her. She runs away as soon as I approach, but she always comes back, once I keep my distance, to get the food.’
‘How long have you been feeding her?’
‘Six weeks.’
Jack whistled through his teeth, marvelling at her patience. He would have called the RSPCA weeks ago. ‘What if she has kittens before you catch her? A one-cat problem will become a five- or six-cats problem. Female cats can get pregnant in their first season.’
Sylvie’s expression soured as if she had just been forced to listen to a biology lecture she hadn’t wanted to hear.
‘I know all that. I just wanted to see if I could catch her before that happens. And I would have if it hadn’t been for all the noise from your place next door.
It’s been unbearable. I’ve been woken up each morning for months to the sound of jackhammers and drills, not to mention the tradesmen’s radio blasting at full volume. ’
‘Renovations take time and a lot of money to do well,’ Jack said.
‘But there are strict guidelines about the hours each day power tools can be used. If any of my workmen have contravened those rules, please send me dates and times and recordings of their activity.’ He gave her house a cursory glance and added, ‘You do have a security system, don’t you? ’
Sylvie rolled her eyes and stood from the garden bench; her wine glass clutched in one hand. ‘Of course I do. Now, I mustn’t keep you.’ She gave the fence a pointed glance and added. ‘You must have lots to do to settle in.’
‘A bit but it will only be a day or two before I’m sleeping next door.’ He tossed back the contents of his glass and then handed it to her. ‘Thanks for the drink.’ His smile was crooked but no less charming. ‘Would you like a look around sometime?’
Sylvie gave him a stiff smile. ‘I wouldn’t want to intrude on your privacy.’
Jack could tell she was tempted but was trying to keep her distance. ‘I’ll invite you over when I’ve got it all set up.’
She chewed at her lower lip for a moment, a shadow of worry in her eyes. ‘Do you really think it was a rat you saw?’ There was a thread of uneasiness in her voice.
Jack could feel his skin crawling at the thought of having to deal with a rodent the size of a cat. He’d read somewhere that London apparently had more rats than people. Scary thought. He fought back a shudder of disgust. ‘Don’t worry. Maybe it was your little cat. Have you given her a name?’
‘Shadow.’
He gave an approving nod. ‘I’ll keep an eye out for her.’
‘Thank you.’
There was a moment of silence.
Jack found his gaze lowering to her mouth and wondering what it would feel like to kiss her soft lips.
She had generous lips set in an oval face, with prominent dark brows that framed her beautiful nutmeg-brown eyes.
Her eyelashes were naturally long and dark and her nose a gentle ski slope.
Her slightly wavy chestnut hair was luxuriously abundant, and he longed to run his fingers through it to see if it felt as silky as it looked.
‘Can I ask you something?’ Sylvie’s voice jolted him out of his intense study of her features.
‘Sure. Fire away.’
She moistened her lips and his groin tightened. ‘Why isn’t your name on the property deed?’
Jack raised his brows. ‘So, you did do your research.’
‘I wanted to know who my neighbour was, yes, but all I came up with was a trust name. Fairlight or something like that. I can’t quite remember.’
‘Fairbright,’ Jack said. ‘It was my mother’s maiden name. Both my parents came from wealthy families, and a trust fund was set up in the event of her death.’
‘Are your maternal grandparents still alive?’
‘Unfortunately, no. And we didn’t see them much growing up because my maternal grandfather blamed my father for my mother’s death, which of course annoyed my paternal grandfather.’ Jack twisted his mouth in a rueful manner. ‘Complicated, huh?’
‘Yes, well, families often are.’
‘Yep.’
Another silence.
Jack’s eyes met Sylvie’s in the growing darkness. A soft breeze disturbed the silence, the rustling leaves of the shrubbery whispering their nighttime secrets.
‘I’d better let you get on with your evening,’ Jack said. ‘Thanks again for the drink.’
Sylvie didn’t respond other than with a stiff sort of smile. But he wasn’t daunted by her standoffish manner. He could be patient when he needed to be. He had decided he wanted her, and he sensed her interest in him despite her cool treatment of him so far.
Once Jack had vaulted back over the fence to his own property, Sylvie let out a breath she hadn’t realised she was holding.
Jack was her neighbour. She not only had to work with him, but she also now had to live next to him.
She had a ringside seat to all his comings and goings and would be witness to all the stunning women he brought home.
Sylvie sighed and looked towards the back wall of her garden, a fine shiver lifting her skin in tiny goose bumps.
She was sure Shadow was a cat, of course she was…
but what if there were rats around? She gave an involuntary shudder and turned and went back inside her house, closing and locking the door with extra care.
Cats she could handle, even wild ones, but rats?
No. No. No.