Jack would have pried a little more into her background but a quick sidewards glance showed that she’d brought the shutters down, her expression closed and bleak. Jack decided to change the subject.
‘We might actually have to do some work up here today, Vivienne,’ he said.
She turned happier eyes towards him. ‘Oh? What kind of work?’
‘Nothing too strenuous. But I want to make up our minds which way to tackle the renovations. Whether we just tart up what’s there or go the whole hog and rip out walls.’
‘I definitely won’t be advising that you rip out any walls, Jack. The floor plan of the house is great. It’s just what’s in the rooms which needs ripping out, especially the bathrooms and kitchens. The bedrooms just need new paint and carpet. And furniture, of course. Plus all those hideous curtains will have to go. Perhaps you could think about double glazing on the windows. And tinted glass, of course. Keep out the glare of the morning sun.’
‘Wow. You’ve really been giving this some thought, haven’t you?’
‘Well, I had nothing to do all Friday, so I thought I should get started.’
‘Good girl.’
‘I can’t wait to move in. I was thinking next Sunday. Provided you get my contract ready before then, of course,’ she added, somewhat cheekily.
‘Next Sunday will be fine. And we’ll definitely get your contract drawn up and signed this week.’
‘Good.’
‘Now, you sure you won’t find it too lonely up there?’
Vivienne shook her head. ‘I’m used to living by myself, Jack,’ she said.
Another enigmatic comment. One which he would have liked to explore, but decided not to. Not yet.
‘To tell you the truth, I’m looking forward to it,’ she added.
In a way, so was Jack. Because he couldn’t keep up with what he’d been doing this past week for much longer. He’d found it hard to concentrate on work after making love to Vivienne half the night every night. He was a very hands-on builder and he wasn’t as young as he used to be. He’d been glad he had an excuse not to see her on Friday night, giving him the opportunity to recover. Though sleep hadn’t come as easily as it did when he was in bed with Vivienne. Sex was a wonderful sleeping tablet, no doubt about that.
But he really did have an important job to complete in the coming weeks, finishing off a block of units, with a killer deadline built into his contract. He couldn’t afford to slack off, or let his men slack off. They took the lead from him, he’d found. He knew he wouldn’t be able to resist being with Vivienne whilst she was in Sydney but it would be another matter once she was living in Francesco’s Folly. He could hardly drop in every evening. He would miss her but it would make the weekends even sweeter. He could just imagine how he would feel by the time he arrived on a Friday evening: more than ready for her to be his beck-and-call girl, that was for sure.
Spots on his windshield brought a frustrated groan. He hated driving in the rain. Especially heavy rain, which was exactly what he was contending with half an hour later. Their usual stop at Raymond Terrace was a respite, but not long enough to last out the rain. It was still pouring when they both ran for the Porsche and dived in.
‘I hate this kind of rain,’ Jack grumbled. ‘Makes a builder’s life hell. Puts you behind, big time.’
‘You don’t have to worry too much about the rain with Francesco’s Folly, though,’ Vivienne said. ‘Most of the work is indoors.’
‘True. How long do you think it will take? I’d like it all complete before Christmas.’
‘That depends, I guess, on how reliable this builder is you’ve hired.’
‘He’s very reliable. And if he isn’t, I’ll rely on you to crack the whip.’
Vivienne laughed. ‘I thought I told you I wasn’t that kind of girl.’
‘Maybe not in the bedroom, but you’re quite formidable at work. Don’t forget, I’ve seen you in action. You always want everything done just so.’
‘You ought to talk!’
‘We’re two peas in a pod, then, aren’t we?’
They glanced over at each other, their eyes laughing.
So Jack was surprised when a strange wave of bleak emotion suddenly washed through him. His gaze swung back to the road ahead, his eyebrows bunching together in a frown.
‘You do like me now, don’t you, Vivienne?’ he asked.
His question startled her. Then worried her. Because it forced her to face the fact that she liked him more and more with each passing day. How long, she wondered, before liking—combined with lust—turned to love? Another week? A month? Six months? Vivienne feared that by the time the refurbishment of Francesco’s Folly was complete she would be in much too deep where Jack was concerned. Yet she’d known what she was doing, getting involved with him. He hadn’t hidden the fact that he didn’t want marriage and children; that he wasn’t looking for ‘forever’ love. Just friendship and fun. He hadn’t lied to her. Ever. Which was what she liked about him most of all.