of silence, plus the realisation that at some stage Jack had covered her with the bottom half of the duvet. Sitting up, she glanced around the empty room, looking and listening for evidence of where he might have gone to. There were no sounds coming from anywhere nearby, other than some distant chirping of birds. Surely Jack wouldn’t have left her alone in the house? Alone and naked.
A shiver ran down her spine.
It was then that she saw the note. Swinging her feet over the side of the bed, Vivienne reached down to pick it up, sighing with relief as she read his message. Not that she seriously imagined Jack would run out on her. Why would he, when he no doubt thought he’d now solved two problems with one Vivienne? His need for an interior designer, plus his need for a sexual partner. After the act she’d just put on for him in bed, he would naturally conclude she would agree to whatever he wanted.
But it hadn’t been an act, had it? Vivienne accepted with a degree of confusion. She’d been genuinely swept away with desire and passion for the man. She’d enjoyed everything they’d done together, thrilling to her new, uninhibited self. As for that mind-blowing orgasm... A girl would have to be insane not to want more of those.
Why was it, Vivienne puzzled, that she’d never experienced anything like that with Daryl? After all, she’d been madly in love with the man. But not once had she been carried away in bed the way she had been with Jack. Not once had she come with Daryl inside her. Surely it couldn’t just be a question of size? She didn’t believe that. After all, she’d been panting for Jack before he’d taken off his clothes. She’d been panting for him back in the restaurant yesterday, for pity’s sake!
It was all very perplexing.
The sound of a car roaring up the steep driveway sent Vivienne into a momentary panic. As wildly uninhibited as she’d been during sex with Jack, no way did she want him walking in on her still in the nude.
Scooping up her clothes, she raced over to the door which she presumed led into a bathroom. And, yes, it was a bathroom...in a fashion.
‘Oh, lordie, lordie, lordie!’ she exclaimed, laughing.
Vivienne did know that, in theory, pink and black bathrooms had been all the rage at some stage last century but she’d never actually seen one. Talk about hideous! Shaking her head in wry amusement, she closed the door behind her. After using the black toilet and washing her hands in the pink vanity basin, she quickly dressed. She was finger-combing her hair in the large but chipped wall mirror when there was a sharp rapping on the bathroom door.
‘You in there, Vivienne?’ Jack called out.
‘Er...yes; I’m getting dressed,’ she said, feeling suddenly awkward with him, not to mention embarrassed. It seemed the old Vivienne was rearing her uptight head once again.
‘I’ve bought us some food,’ Jack said as he opened the door and walked straight in.
‘Don’t you believe in knocking?’ she said sharply.
He looked taken aback. ‘I thought I did.’
‘Well, yes, but you should still wait till I invite you to enter.’
‘Mmm. Your mood seems to have deteriorated since I left. I dare say you’re mad at me for not staying to give you those seconds you wanted. Sorry, beautiful, but aside from the condom issue I’m afraid men of my size need constant refuelling.’
Vivienne wished he hadn’t mentioned his size. Or her rather brazen statement about having seconds. The wanton hussy who’d said those things suddenly seemed to have disappeared, which bothered her. Because she liked that hussy. She liked her a lot. All Vivienne could hope was that once Jack started making love to her again—which he would, sooner or later—she’d turn back into that exciting new Vivienne again.
Not that she’d entirely reverted to the old Vivienne, the one who’d been taken in by the likes of Daryl. That seriously pathetic creature was gone for good!
‘So, what do you think of the bathroom?’ Jack went on.
‘What? Oh yes, the bathroom. It’s seriously awful.’
Jack chuckled. ‘Wait till you see the others. The worst is all brown with a yucky olive-green spa bath in the corner.’
‘Good Lord.’
‘The kitchens are slightly better, as long as you like pine. Speaking of kitchens, that’s where I left the food. I’m afraid it’s just hamburgers, fries and Coke—but I figured, who doesn’t like hamburgers, fries and Coke?’
Once again, he didn’t wait for her to reply, just took her hand and led her from the bathroom, out through the bedroom and down a short hallway into a large country-style kitchen where, yes, pine was the order of the day. There were pine cupboards as well as pine benchtops, and three pine stools lined up at the pine breakfast bar. Not that it mattered. Vivienne felt pretty sure that Jack would want the whole interior of this house stripped bare and totally redone.
‘Have a seat,’ Jack said, pulling out a pine stool for her before picking up one of the others and carrying it round to the other side.
When she frowned at his action, he smiled over at her. ‘Have to keep my distance till I’ve eaten,’ he said. ‘I can’t think about sex and eat at the same time, and every time I get close to you, beautiful, I think about sex.’
Vivienne could not help feeling flattered by his remark, though his calling her beautiful all the time was beginning to grate. ‘I find that hard to believe,’ she said somewhat tartly.
His smile widened. ‘Come now, Vivienne, you don’t fool me for a minute with that act of yours. Now, eat up and stop pretending you don’t want to get back to bed as quickly as I do.’
Vivienne opened her mouth to say something more, then closed it again. Because Jack was right. There was no point in denying it. No point in saying anything at all! So she reached for the food and started eating.
Neither of them spoke as they each consumed their hamburger, which was more delicious than any hamburger Vivienne had ever eaten—king-sized and truly mouthwatering, with the kind of ingredients you only got at a small café. The fries weren’t half bad, either—golden and crispy with just the right amount of salt. As for the Coke... Vivienne sighed with pleasure as she washed the meal down with her favourite drink. The only fault she could find was that Jack hadn’t bought Diet Coke, opting instead for the full-strength variety.
‘Do you realise how much sugar is contained in this one small bottle?’ Vivienne said after downing all of it.
‘Not enough to send a rocket to the moon,’ Jack replied. ‘But enough to spark lift-off in yours truly,’ he added with the wickedest smile, his blue eyes glittering with sexual intent at the same time.
Vivienne struggled to act cool under an immediate quickening of her heart. Although she wasn’t about to play hard to get—it was a little late for that—she didn’t want to appear too easy. Or too eager.
‘I thought you’d give me the grand tour of the house first,’ she said, casually picking up one of the paper serviettes which came with the meal and dabbing at the corners of her mouth.
‘Then you thought wrong,’ he said.
Vivienne glowered at him. This was why she’d never
