if you lock yourself in your house and never go out?’
‘I don’t lock myself in my house. And I have no intention of ever getting married again.’
Jack noted the emphasis on the ever, plus the emotional timbre of her voice. Clearly, this was a subject which touched a nerve.
An old friend of Jack’s—an army widow—had once told him that there were two reasons women decided not to marry again. They either had been so happy and so in love with their husbands they believed no other man would ever compare. Or they had been so miserable, they didn’t want to risk putting their lives into the hands of a rotter a second time.
Jack didn’t know enough about Lisa yet to decide which was her reason.
‘Fair enough,’ he said. ‘I don’t want to get married, either, even once. But don’t you get bored? And lonely?’
A frustrated-sounding sigh escaped her lips as she uncrossed her arms. ‘Boredom and loneliness are not the worst things in this world.’
‘They come pretty high on my list.’ Jack had a very low boredom threshold. He liked to keep active when he wasn’t writing. During the winter he skied and went snow-boarding. In the summer he surfed and water-skied. When he was forced indoors by the weather, he worked out. Obsessively.
‘Give me one good reason why you don’t date and we’ll leave it at that.’
She pursed her lips at him, her chin lifting. ‘One good reason,’ she repeated tartly. ‘No trouble. When a single mother goes out with a man these days, he expects more than a goodnight kiss at the door. He wants to come inside and stay the night. No way would I have my son wake up in the morning to some strange man at the breakfast table. If I’m a little lonely sometimes, then that’s the price I have to pay for giving my boy the example of good moral standards.’
Jack was impressed, but not entirely convinced. He feared she protested too much. There was something else here, something she wasn’t admitting to. But he could see she wasn’t about to confide in him at this early stage. If he could somehow persuade her to come out with him tomorrow night, he might eventually uncover some of the mystery behind this intriguing ice princess.
‘I promise I won’t expect more than a goodnight kiss at the door,’ he said.
Now she looked seriously rattled. And tempted. Oh, yes, she was tempted. He could see it in her eyes.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said again after a more lengthy hesitation. ‘My answer’s still no. Now I really must go. I’m running late.’
Jack didn’t try to stop her from leaving. He even reminded her about the money on the counter, which she almost forgot. But he took comfort from her obvious fluster. She’d definitely wanted to say yes to him. Or, if he was strictly honest with himself, she’d wanted to say yes to Nick Freeman.
It didn’t really matter. They were one and the same, as she would find out, when she went to the dinner with him tomorrow night.
Jack had her phone number somewhere. At least, he had the phone number for Clean-in-a-Day. He would ring later this evening, after her boy had gone to bed. By then, Jack would have all his arguments ready to get her to change her mind.
And he would not take no for an answer!
Chapter Five
‘MUM!’ Cory exclaimed from the passenger seat. ‘Where are you going?’
‘What?’
‘You drove straight past our street.’
Lisa sighed. It didn’t surprise her. Since she’d left Jack Cassidy’s place, it had been a struggle to keep her mind on what she was doing. She’d only just remembered to give Gail her money at the school.
Thank heavens Gail hadn’t had time to chat. No way did Lisa want to talk about her day. She still hadn’t come to terms with Jack Cassidy turning out to be Nick Freeman. Or with his asking her out to that awards dinner tomorrow night. Or her actually being tempted to say yes.
As Lisa negotiated the roundabout which would bring her back the way she’d come, she reiterated to herself that she’d done the right thing, saying no to his invitation.
She wasn’t a complete fool. She could read between the lines. Jack Cassidy—alias Nick Freeman—was a ladies’ man. Just like his character, Hal Hunter. Jack’s penthouse had ‘playboy pad’ written all over it, from the indoor pool and spa to the private gym, the home theatre and the simply huge master bedroom, which had every seductive mod con built in. A huge plasma screen dominated the wall opposite the bed. There were dimmer switches on the lights. And a corner spa in the en suite bathroom definitely built for two. Or even three.
Aside from that, she’d noted his off-the-cuff remark that he didn’t want to ever get married, even once. Yet he had to be in his mid-to-late thirties, past the age most men thought about settling down and having a family.
Clearly, his lifestyle of choice was that of swinging bachelor.
Mr Playboy would definitely not settle for a platonic peck at the door. He’d just been saying that to get her to go out with him. No doubt he thought she was an easy target, once he’d found out she was a widow.
Jack wasn’t the first man to ask her out. But he was the first she’d been tempted to say yes to.
Why was that? Lisa asked herself as she drove slowly down her street.
His being her favourite author had to be the main factor. But she suspected it was also because a glamorous night out in Sydney was an exciting prospect for a suburban single mother who hadn’t been anywhere glamorous in years. Up here on the coast, everything was very casual. You never got seriously dressed up for anything. Not even at Christmas.
Lisa loved getting dressed up. Or she had, when Greg had been alive.
Her wanting to say yes to Jack Cassidy’s invitation had nothing to do with her finding him physically attractive, she told herself firmly. She liked slim, elegant-looking men with nice manners and soft blue eyes, not big, macho devils with faces carved out of granite and the coldest grey eyes she’d ever seen.
Lisa supposed Jack’s surprise at her declaration that she didn’t date was understandable. But she thought she’d handled the situation quite well. Of course, she hadn’t been able to tell him the real reason she didn’t date. That would have been embarrassing in the extreme.
Still, the reason she’d given was also true. She hated the way some single mothers went from man to man, most of whom didn’t give a damn about their children. Yet they let these men into their children’s lives; let the poor little mites get attached.
How many single mothers and divorcees actually found a decent fellow to marry? Not many. Once the man got bored with the sex, he moved on. She’d seen it happen amongst her women friends too many times to count, leaving behind broken hearts and sad, mixed-up children.
‘Yes, I definitely did the right thing,’ she muttered under her breath.
Her house came into view, a two-storeyed blond brick building which Lisa was very proud of, but which she’d struggled to
