A pause. “Can I ask why?”
She didn’t outright refuse him. A good sign.
“Turn up tomorrow and find out. Oh, and wear something warm and comfy.” Jacob was about to end the call, but he changed his mind. “Sweet dreams, Jane.”
“Goodnight, Jacob.”
Chapter Seven
Jane saw her reflection on the window of a passing bus. She’d followed Jacob’s orders and had dressed in a thick, green sweater, a pair of comfortable jeans, and fashionable boots. She put minimal makeup on and gathered her hair into a single ponytail. Like this, Jane was virtually unrecognizable and that suited her just fine. When she went to the studio, her clothes were always carefully chosen, professional. It was nice, she realized, to sometimes dress down.
A chill came from the busy docks, making her shove her hands into the pockets of her jeans. She came here fifteen minutes early because that was how she was. She hated to be late. Even as a teenager, she arrived early for a date with a girlfriend or a boyfriend.
A tingle of excitement shot down her spine. After Jacob’s call last night, sleep proved elusive. Jacob was shaking things up—a good or bad sign, she no longer cared. Her confidence level was at an all-time low after watching Swan’s interview yesterday. Jane knew she should keep off social media for the next few days, but she took a sneak peek earlier and immediately regretted it. Jane didn’t know what she did to piss Swan off, but the supermodel seemed to love bashing her and her dresses.
Jane could use a distraction and this mysterious trip might be the solution.
“You’re early. I should’ve expected that,” said a familiar voice behind her.
Jane turned around. She’d never seen Jacob out of his apartment before and he looked better than nice. Sexy. He wore a battered brown leather jacket over a white shirt with a cartoon pig holding a knife printed over it, and a pair of well-used, faded jeans. Jacob leaned in close and kissed her on the cheek. It was brief and quick, but the contact of his lips warmed her up immediately.
“You look perfect,” he murmured, eying her up and down. That naked want in his eyes sent a shudder down her spine. They weren’t in the privacy of his home, but that look didn’t feel out of place.
He slid his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close to him. She breathed in his familiar scent, his cologne, and closed her eyes for a moment. Jane felt the change in his breathing and she opened her eyes again. She realized she was resting the palm of her hand against his incredibly warm and solid chest.
“I’m sorry, Sir,” she whispered, about to pull away, but he grasped her fingers.
Jacob leaned in by her ear. “You don’t need permission to touch me in public. I’m just Jacob this morning.”
It took her a second to understand what he meant. Today, Jacob wasn’t her Master. Jane needed order, rules, distinctions, but today, she could be flexible. Curiosity got the better of her. She wanted to know what he had planned for them.
Jacob squeezed her hand. “Let’s go before all the good fish are gone.”
“I don’t understand,” she said.
They walked further into the market. She looked around, perplexed. Despite the ungodly hour, there were a lot of people. Jane didn’t like crowds in general and avoided them if she could, but with Jacob right next to her, her anxiety became non-existent. The smell of raw fish bothered her a little at first, but she got used to it. Fishmongers were yelling prices at passing customers.
She glanced at Jacob. He had an intense look on his face as he entered a bidding match with a tuna seller. Jacob looked pleased when they settled on a price. She was seeing him in his element, she realized. He looked completely at home. Today, he’d given her a precious gift. He was showing her a part of himself she’d never thought she’d ever get a glimpse of.
They moved to another stall.
“Can you hold this for me?” he asked.
She nodded, taking his bag of purchases. They were now browsing a stall that sold nothing but different kinds of crabs. They all seemed the same to her.
“How do you know which one to pick?” she asked him.
Jacob showed her how to identify which crab was male or female, what to look out for. He was patient with her and only smiled when she grew brave enough to ask him for questions. An hour later, they wandered off to a pier. Jane glanced at the fishing boats floating in the sea.
“You do this every morning?” she asked.
“It’s the part of the day I enjoy the most.” Jacob slid his hand down the line of her back and settled it over the curve of her ass. She leaned closer into his embrace, loving the feel of the wind on her face. It was a little cold out here, but Jacob was better than any coat or blanket.
“You being here means a lot to me.”
His words took her by surprise. “Didn’t I get in the way?” Jane bet he’d be more efficient if she wasn’t tagging along.
“Not at all. Do you know why I asked you to accompany me here today?”
She recognized his tone. It was the same one he used when he was teaching her a particular lesson in the playroom. He always chose his words with deliberate care.
“Yes, I think. You wanted me to be a part of your life.” She wondered if she’d said the wrong thing because he gazed at her for a few moments.
Jacob lowered his mouth to hers, traced her bottom lip with his tongue, and then he nipped on it. He slipped one big hand past the hem of jeans and her underwear and gave her ass a squeeze before thrusting his tongue down her throat.
She forgot where they were at that moment. Playing in his apartment or being out here didn’t matter. Her secret life and her real one had finally merged, and it wasn’t as frightening as she had initially thought it might be. She thought she heard a click somewhere, the flash of a camera light going off.
For a second, panic entered her. Had someone taken a photo of them?
He pulled away and she returned her attention to him. She focused on the now, on the present. She had an overactive imagination. That was all.
Strands of hair slipped from her ponytail. He tucked them back behind one ear. The knowing smile he wore made her heart beat fanatically. Jacob pulled his hand from her panties. He undressed her with that searing look. She suddenly wished they weren’t in public, but back in his place. For the first time in her career, in her life, Jane wanted to play hooky. She had no desire to head back to the studio at all.
“The date’s not over yet,” he said.
“This is a date then?” she had to ask.
“What do you think?” Jacob brushed his fingers against hers. “I’m cooking you breakfast.”
****
“What are you making?” Jane asked.
“Crab and avocado eggs benedict.”
“Sounds delicious.”
She lingered behind the kitchen counter, watching him take out the blue crabs from the plastic bag. Jane started to poke at one of the crabs, a male with a particularly wicked claw, but he gently placed her finger aside.
“Careful. Their claws might be tied with string, but I’ve been pinched before,” he told her.
She nodded, looking solemn, her blue eyes bright, her lips pressed against together, as if she were dying to ask more questions but thought better of it. Under the bright morning light of his kitchen, she looked impossibly young, beautiful, and tempting. Jacob paused from his task and leaned over to take her mouth. The little sigh she emitted when he pulled away did wonders for his cock.
What would she look like, bent over the counter, naked, wrists bound, and completely at his mercy? Hunger of a different sort grabbed hold of him. His dick pressed up uncomfortably against the zipper of his jeans—nothing new. Jane always managed to elicit that reaction from him, and he always wanted to find new ways to own her. Remind her who she rightfully belonged to.
Jacob pushed his wicked thoughts aside. He’d promised to make her breakfast.
Their visit to the market went better than expected. When he woke up earlier that
morning, he wondered if he’d made a wrong decision. Not a lot of women would like going on a market run for their first date, but Jane had been amazing.
She asked him more questions about his work and he was more than happy to answer.
“Won’t your staff miss you?”
“They can manage without me for an hour or two. I told them I’ll come in later today,” he answered. “What about you?”
“Me? Mary and Gina can take of things at the studio for me.”
“My Little Sparrow’s learning to delegate. Very good.” At his compliment, color rose to her cheeks and neck.
“I was having a bad week. Thank you for this morning. I’m feeling tons better.”
“Tell me what happened,” Jacob said, plating the eggs.
He didn’t lead her to the dining table but to the living room and sank into the armchair. Jane automatically went on her knees, sitting by his feet. Jacob smiled, passing a plate and fork to her. He set his plate aside, gathered her hair to his fingers, and tugged away the band. She didn’t speak right away. Was she debating if she should share personal details of his life with him? Jacob didn’t push. He knew her well enough. Jane would open up to him sooner or later.
“It’s this client I’ve worked with,” she said. Jane lifted her fork and took a bite of breakfast. Watching pleasure fill her eyes made Jacob want to cook for her again. “Wow. You’re spoiling me, Sir.”
“I like feeding you. It’s my duty to care for my sub.” He stroked her hair, loving how she leaned into his touch like a kitten.
Would she purr for him next? Jacob briefly entertained buying cat ears and even a matching tail for her. Jane always looked so put-together, aloof and indifferent to the public’s eyes. He knew that was only the armor she put on to survive the cutthroat industry she’d chosen. The real Jane Sparrow was warm and caring, shy and vulnerable at times.
“Have you heard of Azalea Swan?” she finally asked him.
“The model?”
“Yes.” Jane told him all about the interview Swan did. “I know I shouldn’t let something small like that affect me so much, but I haven’t been able to do anything productive the entire week.”
Jacob frowned. He’d been unusually busy in the kitchen, but he always kept tabs on Jane, on what the media said about her. He cursed himself for not paying more attention. Clearly, this Swan incident rattled Jane enough that it affected her creative process.
“Swan’s irrelevant,” he finally said. “You’re overthinking things. She’s one bad egg against tens of thousands of women who love every single one of your creations.”
“Hearing those words from you makes a difference,” she said softly. Jane ran her fingers up and down his denim-clad leg.
“Jane,” he said, his voice a little strangled. He thought of the spare key in his drawer. It would be easy to tell her to wait here while he retrieved it. Would presenting it to her right here and now ruin whatever they have? Was she ready to take that next step? Was he?
Jane’s phone going off broke the mounting tension in the room.
“I need to get this,” she said, rising to her feet. She answered her call in the kitchen. Jacob remained where he was, feeling like the world’s biggest coward. For fuck’s sake, he was the Dom in this relationship. Jane trusted him to lead. Jacob could very well order her to move in with him—but this decision had to be made by the two of them.
Jane returned to him, looking flustered. “I need to head back to the studio.”
“I’ll drive you.”
“No,” she suddenly blurted then took a deep breath. “I appreciate the gesture, but there are photographers and media people outside. I think they want to talk to me about Swan.”
Jacob furrowed his brow, not liking this one bit. She walked up to him and gently placed her hand over his arm. Jane rose on tiptoe and kissed him on the mouth. “I can handle this. Promise.”
He felt himself nod but long after she left, he remained troubled. He brought their empty plates to the sink then let out a curse. Back at the pier, he remembered hearing a click going off and a man in a hoodie running off the opposite direction. He’d thought nothing of it because he’d been too immersed in Jane. The bad feeling brewing inside him intensified. Jacob grabbed his coat and went after Jane.
Chapter Eight
Reporters and photographers swamped Jane the moment she got out of the car. Shielding her eyes against a flashing camera, she made her way to the studio. She tried to, anyway. Jane felt like she was being swept forward and backward by a wave. Sweat trickled down her back. The press of people made it hard to draw air to her lungs. Panic crept up her spine and she gritted her teeth. She’d made a promise to Jacob before she left. She could handle the press.
If she’d known making that dress for Azalea Swan would lead to this, she wished she never agreed to work with the model. Swan might crave attention, but Jane was the exact opposite. She only wanted to continue making dresses.
“Jane, any comment about supermodel Azalea Swan’s scathing interview with Late Night Show host Gene Reeves?” someone fired from the right of her.
“No comment.” Jane was only a few feet from her store. Both her assistants stood outside the door, trying to control the crowd to no avail. They were ignoring them.
“Clear out. Let Jane through,” she heard Gina yelling, but her voice got lost in the crowd. “We’ve already called the police.”
The police. Okay. Jane breathed a little easier. She only had to ride this wave out. The police would lend her their assistance—if they arrived at all.
“Jane, is it true you’re seeing Jacob Farr, Michelin-starred chef and the owner of Arianna’s?”
That question threw her completely off-guard. She froze up completely and her shocked expression must’ve given her away. The sharks knew it. They scented the blood in the water and started firing questions about her and Jacob.
Jane’s head spun. She remembered the click going off in the pier. The flash. All these years, she’d kept her head down, made sure the reporters couldn’t dig up any dirt on her. She’d made a mistake. She’d let her guard down, allowed herself to feel normal for a change, and look what happened. Jane clenched her fists by her side, tempted to punch the overweight, balding reporter in front of her who kept asking how far she and Jacob had gone in the bedroom.
It was none of their business. She had every right to go on a date if she wanted. None of these people could ruin the special moment Jacob and her shared.
A year ago, she’d broken down on television once and the press milked that single moment of embarrassment for months. Jane couldn’t let them get to her, and was no longer that insecure, overemotional woman. She gathered herself, straightening her spine, and wore a neutral expression on her face.
“No comment. If you’d excuse me, I need to get inside my studio,” she said, pitching her voice loud and clear.
The reporters didn’t budge. Didn’t they have anything better to do? Other more important celebrities to hound? Jane was just a small fish in a tank of bigger fish.
She fought a losing battle. Any second now and her resolve would collapse. The questions got more personal, invasive. Jane opened her mouth, about to tell them all to fuck off despite knowing that would only give them more ammunition. She knew she shouldn’t.
“You heard her,” growled a familiar voice behind her. “Give her some fucking space.”
Jane spun. Jacob shoved his way toward her. His eyes were narrowed, his lips formed a thin line, and he clenched and unclenched his fists by his sides. He looked pissed as hell. Some of the reporters must’ve felt the black aura coming off him because they stepped aside. Was this a dream?
Her feet nearly gave out on her. Jacob was there, gathering her protectively in his arms, preventing her from falling face-first into the pavement. Not a figment of her imagination after all. Jacob wasn’t alone. He’d brought two police officers with him.
“Make room,” ordered one of the cops.
&nb
sp; “You okay?” he whispered in her ear.
“Yes. I am now,” she answered. With Jacob holding her close, they managed to reach the studio’s doorstep. Gina held the door open as they breezed through.
Jacob gave her shoulders a squeeze then flashed her a reassuring smile. “I need to speak with Cooper and Farley. They’re the cops I came with.”
“How did you know?” she asked him, blinking when he cupped her cheek. His steady presence, his touch anchored Jane back to reality. She could breathe easily again.
“I had a bad feeling when you left.” Jacob approached the cops who entered the studio.
Jane turned to face her assistants, who were both sneaking Jacob curious looks.
“Jane, sit down. I’ll make you a cup of tea,” Mary said, pulling her over to one of the sofas reserved for their customers.
“Water,” she said. “Please and thank you.”
Mary nodded, leaving her to get her a glass.
“He’s the reason you were smiling the other day?” Gina asked her point-blank.
There was no use denying it. The photo taken of them at the pier would probably appear in the news or a tabloid magazine sooner or later.
“Yes,” she admitted.
“Well, good for you,” Gina said, grinning. “He’s a catch. Mary and I saw it all. He looked ready to murder anyone who came close to you.”
****
“So this is where you work?” Jacob asked, looking around the space with interest. There was a sewing machine on the table near where Jane sat. Bolts of fabric and lace samples hung on one wall and wedding veils on another corner.
Jane remained seated where she was, nursing a cup of tea that had probably gone cold. Both of Jane’s assistants had stepped out for lunch. One of them turned over the open sign at the door, giving Jane and him complete privacy in the studio.
“I didn’t want to drag you into the mess that’s my life,” Jane finally said, looking up at him. Jacob took a seat on the table, facing her. He rested his hand over her slim, small one. This talk was a long time coming.
Sparrow Obsessed (Romance on the Go Book 0) Page 4
