grateful for your confidence in me. Is Mr Connolly ready to go now?’
‘I’m ready.’
Grace had been unaware of Jack’s approach, and his low attractive voice caused another shiver to feather her spine.
Elizabeth turned to him with obvious pleasure. ‘Miss Spencer will take care of you,’ she said, patting Grace’s arm encouragingly. ‘I’ll see you later, right?’
‘Right.’
Jack nodded, and Grace was obliged to pick up her handbag and precede him across the room and out of the door.
She waited until they were out of hearing distance and then turned impatiently towards him.
‘Just what do you think you’re doing?’
Jack’s dark brows rose at the obvious accusation in her voice.
‘I understood we were going to view a row of run-down cottages at some place called Culworth. Isn’t that right?’
Grace sighed. ‘Like you’re interested in seeing a row of derelict cottages.’
Jack pushed his thumbs into the front pockets of his khakis. ‘I am.’
Grace stared at him frustratedly, wishing she didn’t have this almost visceral awareness of his masculinity. She struggled to suppress those totally unwelcome feelings and said, ‘Why would you be interested in the Culworth cottages? You’re not a property developer. It’s kind of you to try to help me deal with Mr Grafton, but he’s not likely to go away just because someone else has shown an interest.’
‘I know that.’
Jack conceded the point, not altogether comfortable with his reasons for getting involved. But when he’d heard Grafton, mouthing off about what he wanted Grace to do, he’d known an immediate urge to thwart the man, any way he could.
‘But I am an architect,’ he went on mildly. ‘With time on my hands.’ He paused. ‘It occurred to me that buying another property and developing it—’
‘There are six cottages,’ broke in Grace helplessly, but Jack only lifted his shoulders in a dismissive gesture.
‘So? It will be a challenge.’
Grace shook her head. ‘You don’t mean that.’
‘Don’t I?’ Jack shrugged. ‘Forgive me if I think I know my own mind better than you do.’
His words were cooler now, reminding her that she was still an employee of the agency. Whatever her personal feelings might be, Mr Hughes wouldn’t be pleased if she inadvertently offended another possible valuable client.
‘All right.’ Grace pursed her lips. ‘I’ll get my car.’
Jack’s dark eyes assessed her. ‘Or we could both go in mine,’ he offered evenly, but she just gave him a speaking look.
‘I don’t think, so,’ she said stiffly, looping the strap of her bag over her shoulder. ‘I’m parked at the back of the agency. Just give me a couple of minutes to bring my car round.’
Jack made a gesture of assent, wondering seriously why he was doing this. And she was right. This wasn’t why he’d come to Alnwick.
Pushing his hands into his jacket pockets, he watched her walk away with a feeling of irritation. He even played with the idea of just getting into his car and driving away, but he knew he wouldn’t do that.
For some reason, the rigid cut of her spine and the provocative sway of her hips assaulted his senses. It was crazy, because she was so obviously not interested in him, either as a client, or a friend. And anything else...
But he arrested his thoughts there before they took him places he really didn’t want to go. Well, not in the middle of Alnwick High Street, he mused drily as a small red Civic turned the corner at the end of the block and drove towards him.
It was Grace, and, grateful for the distraction, Jack strode across the square and climbed behind the wheel of the Lexus. His eyes met Grace’s briefly, and then, with a courteous wave of his hand, he allowed her to lead the way.
They drove north for a couple of miles before turning towards the sea. It appeared at fleeting intervals as the road wound through a series of hidden bends and blind summits to a small hamlet perched on cliffs above a rocky cove.
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