If Jacob thought he was going to browbeat her or break her will, then he was in for a shocker. After all, she was a Cole woman and they ruled while their men served.
Ana found the hangers in the master bedroom’s walk-in closet. Heavy mahogany furniture, furnishings and accent pillows in dramatic colors of chocolate, sand-beige and sea-foam-green pulled it all together. She found the space as masculine as its occupant.
A wide smile crinkled the skin around her eyes. She’d misjudged Jacob. He had a good sense for fashion. She counted at least half a dozen beautifully tailored suits in different colors. Racks held shoes ranging from slip-ons to wing tips. Shirts with monogrammed cuffs, slacks and jackets were hung neatly on racks along with a collection of ties. When, she mused, did he have the time to wear the tailored clothing and where? It was apparent her protector wasn’t what he presented to her.
He claimed he knew everything about her when she knew nothing about him other than his name, occupation and marital status. “Okay, Mr. Jones,” she whispered as she gathered the remaining hangers, “now it’s time for me to find out what you’re all about.”
Ana returned to the bedroom she would occupy during her stay in Long Key, hung up the remaining garments tossed on the bed and then retraced her steps along a catwalk to the staircase leading to the first floor.
She had to admit to herself that she liked the layout of the house. Unlike many homes built in the state it contained two levels. Her parents’ home was constructed in three one-story sections. They occupied one section, which included a guest wing. Four bedroom suites, one for each of their children, took up another section, and the third contained a state-of-the-art recording studio and what had been Serenity’s corporate office before David moved it to a Boca Raton downtown office building.
Although she knew Jason was more than capable of running the company, Ana wanted to be there just to feel the pulsing energy from prerecorded music playing softly throughout the offices. It hadn’t mattered whether it was soft jazz, R&B, blues, pop, country, classical, hip hop or occasionally gospel, Serenity was always about music.
Her thoughts returned to her host and protector. Jacob had admitted he cleaned his own house and she had discerned at least one thing about him: he was a neat-freak. The floors were spotless; there was no dust on any flat surface and even her adjoining spa-inspired bathroom was impeccable. It was no wonder he didn’t have a wife or girlfriend. He was more than capable of taking care of his own needs. And she didn’t want to believe he could be so vulgar to mention that if he needed a woman to take care of his physical needs, then he’d just go out and find one to spend some quality time with. She would never go out and pick up a man if she felt the need for sexual release, because engaging in risky behavior was against her principles. It didn’t mean she didn’t have urges, but that was only when she was sexually active. But lately she’d undergone a sexual drought, because she loathed hooking up with a man just for sex. The women she’d planned to accompany on their vacation to Puerto Rico had made a pact that they would sleep with at least one man before returning to the mainland. She’d been the only one who hadn’t agreed. They hadn’t begrudged her for not going along with their scheme, and that’s why she’d remained friends with them for so long. The motto between the five women was: judge not. They were very supportive of one another, and whenever one had a crisis they came together as one to provide emotional support.
Well, right about now Ana needed their support more than at any time in her life. Just seeing their faces or hearing their voices was like a soothing sedative. She’d promised Jacob she would help prepare dinner, but first things first. She had to call one of her girlfriends and let her know she would not be accompanying them to Puerto Rico.
* * *
Jacob was at the cooking island, chopping onions and red and green bell peppers. Several cloves of garlic were next to the colorful, finely minced veggies. His head popped up when she walked into the kitchen. Ana noticed that he’d exchanged his Hawaiian shirt for a white tee. Her jaw dropped, and mouth gaping she stared mutely at the breadth of his broad shoulders and muscular upper body. She was transfixed, watching the flex of muscle in his bulging biceps as he deftly diced strips of peppers.
Smiling, Jacob gestured to his colorful shirt hanging on the back of a high stool. “You can either use the loud and garish shirt, or there’s a tee on the seat of the stool.”
Ana forced her feet to move as she walked woodenly to pick up the T-shirt and pulled it on. The sleeves came past her elbows and the hem inches above her knees. “It’s just a trifle bit large.”
Jacob went back to cutting the garlic into minute pieces. “It’s enough to protect your skin.”
“It’s the perfect nightshirt.”
“I have more if you need nightshirts.”
Ana walked over and stood next to him. He’d exchanged his jeans for a pair of khaki walking shorts. “No, thanks. I have my own.” She stared at his large hands with long, slender fingers, noticing his nails were groomed. One of her pet peeves was men who either bit their nails or didn’t file them. Jacob’s were smooth and square-cut. “I’d like to use your phone to call someone.”
He stopped chopping, placing the sharp knife on the butcher block countertop. “Whoever you talk to, please do not divulge where you are.”
Resisting the urge to salute him, Ana wrinkled her nose instead. “I think I know the drill.”
“My number will not be displayed on their caller ID, so they won’t be able to call you back,” he called out as she walked to the wall phone.
“That’s okay,” she said over her shoulder. Resting a hip against the countertop, she removed the phone from its cradle and punched in the number of her friend who operated her business out of her home and was available 24/7.
Ana counted off the rings before she heard the familiar greeting. “Good afternoon. You have reached Creative Editorial Services. This is Samantha.”
“Sam, Ana.”
“Ana! Where the hell are you? And why haven’t you been answering your cell? You know I’ve been worried sick when I saw the news about someone shooting your cousin.”
She couldn’t help smiling. She’d met Samantha Mickelson when both were in the same college freshman English class. The fast-talking former book editor was open, friendly, spontaneous and her best friend. Ana had graduated and enrolled in law school while Samantha moved to New York City with the dream of becoming an editor. She’d managed to secure a position with a major publisher, working her way up from editorial assistant to an associate editor.
She discovered a brilliant mystery writer when she picked up his unsolicited manuscript from a slush pile and the rest was history. Their relationship went from editor and writer to husband and wife. Unfortunately for Sam her husband took his overnight success a step further when he literally became a literary rock star. Paul was always surrounded by groupies and that escalated rumors of him cheating to a tabloid exposé with photos of him in a hotel room with a barely legal nubile television actress.
Samantha had him served with divorce papers and, following a quiet divorce with a generous settlement, she returned to Florida and set up a freelance editorial service. Her reputation had preceded her, so she was never at a loss for clients wishing to break into publishing.
“I’m okay.”
“Where are you? I called your folks and your mom wouldn’t give me any information. I also called Jason at his office and he was just as mum. What’s up?”
Ana and Jacob exchanged a long, penetrating stare. She placed her hand on the mouthpiece. “Can you please give me a few minutes of privacy?” she whispered.
Jacob shook his head. “Nope. My house. My phone. My rules. I get to monitor all incoming and outgoing telephone calls.”
She glared at him. “That is so rude.”
“That is your opinion,” he countered.
“Ana, are you still there?”
She resisted the urge to suck her teeth—a habit her mother detested, and turned her back instead. “I’m still here. Look, Sam, I’m not going to be able to go down to Puerto Rico with you. And I was so looking forward to this trip.”
There came a pregnant pause. “Is something going on that you can’t talk about?”
Samantha was one of the most perceptive women Ana knew. There were times when she’d told the book editor that she could double as a psychic. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the same when it came to Samantha’s own future.
“Yes.”
There was another pause. “Is someone there listening in on what you’re saying?”
“Yes.”
“The fact that no one in your family is talking and you can’t tell me where you are reminds me of a mystery novel. I get it and respect that, but the only thing I want to know is if you’re safe.”
“Affirmative again,” Ana answered, lowering her voice.
“Well, that makes me feel better and hopefully I can get a full night’s sleep without waking up every few hours thinking about you. You know you’re my girl, Ana. I never would’ve made it through my divorce without your support.”
“Yes, you would’ve, Sam.”
Samantha’s husky laugh came through the earpiece. “I’m not going to debate that because I know I’ll lose. I love you to death, Ana, but if there is anything I can do just call.”
“I love you, too, but right now I’m in a very good place emotionally. If anything changes, then you’ll be the first to know. Give my best to the rest of the gang and tell them I’ll be with them in spirit.”
Samantha laughed again. “We’ll be certain to raise a couple of glasses of mojitos, piña coladas, cosmos and one or two extra-dirty martinis to toast your absence.”
“And don’t forget Jack and Coke.”
“Please don’t mention Jack and Coke. That’s what got me into trouble where I’d lost my mind and wound up married to that fool.”
Ana smiled. “Then scratch the Jack and Coke.” She quickly sobered when she shifted and saw Jacob frowning at her. “Look, Sam, I have to go. I’ll call you in a couple of weeks.” She ended the call, replaced the receiver on the cradle and then turned to meet her protector’s angry scowl. “What’s the matter now?”
The seconds ticked as they engaged in what could only be determined as a stare-down. Ana knew instinctually that Jacob hadn’t wanted her to make phone calls, but there was no way he could completely shut her off from the outside world.
“I would prefer that you not make any calls, and if you do then limit them to a minute or less.”
A smug smile touched her lips. So, she was right. He didn’t want her using the phone. “That call was necessary because I had to tell my friend that my vacation plans had changed.”
Crossing his arms over his chest, Jacob continued to stare at her, brows drawing together as he continued to frown. “What you’re going to have to accept is that your entire life will change until the person or persons who want you eliminated is either caught or killed.”
A shiver eddied up Ana’s spine at the same time she closed her eyes. Killed. The single word was uttered as softly as a pleasant greeting. But then she couldn’t afford to forget that the man with whom she would live with for who knew how long carried a firearm and had been trained to use it with deadly force when necessary. And she said a silent prayer that whoever was responsible for shooting Tyler would be apprehended alive. After all, dead people couldn’t talk.
It hadn’t been a week since that fateful day when she stood in the restaurant parking lot with her cousin, but Ana wanted it over. Perhaps when she went to sleep and woke up she would realize it’d been a bad dream. That she’d read one of the mystery novels Samantha had edited and everything that’d happened was because of an overactive imagination.
But she knew she couldn’t blink and will it away because of the incredibly virile man standing only feet away. Despite the turmoil going on in her life that had impacted her family she did not want to think about sharing a roof with a man as attractive as Jacob. Why, she mused, couldn’t he be short, fat, balding and smelling of liniment? But he wasn’t, and that made her uncomfortable. She also wondered how long it would take before she would go completely stir-crazy from the inactivity.
Ana was used to getting up every morning and working out in her condominium’s health club before she prepared to go into her office. She and Jason alternated chairing bi-weekly staff meetings where they brought everyone employed by the recording company up on what was going on with their artists. And once she’d taken control as CEO she’d established an open-door policy. There hadn’t been a time when she did not entertain someone’s suggestion, whether she believed it would or wouldn’t benefit the company, whenever the executives held their brainstorming sessions.
“I know you see me as an imposition—”
“You’re not,” Jacob said, interrupting her. “If I thought of you as an imposition, then I never would’ve agreed to let you come and stay here.”
“Why did you agree?”
He smiled, the expression reminding Ana of a ray of sunshine warming her face and she wanted to tell him that it was something he should do more often.
“Because there are very few things I wouldn’t do for Diego.”
Her eyebrows lifted at this disclosure. “Did you and Diego go to college together?” She’d asked because her cousin had attended college in Miami.
“No. Diego has three years on me.”
Ana quickly did the math. Diego was going to celebrate his thirty-ninth birthday, so he had to be at least thirty-five or six.
“I’ll be thirty-six September seventeenth,” Jacob confirmed.
Her dimpled smile was infectious when he returned it with one of his own. “You read minds?” she asked.
He lowered his arms. “No, but I’ve noticed that you bite down on your lip when you appear to be thinking about something.”
Ana’s delicate jaw dropped. “I can’t believe I’m that transparent.”
“You really aren’t. If you were, then I’d know what you’re thinking.”
“You really don’t want to know what I’m thinking,” she retorted.
There another lengthy pause as Jacob took several steps, stopping in front of her, while his gaze met and fused with hers. “I don’t care. Nothing you say, or if you decide to throw a hissy fit, will get me to change my mind.”
“What if I decide to seduce you? Will that get you to change your mind?”
She felt a rush of heat settle in her face as soon as the query rolled off her tongue, and Ana didn’t want to believe where it had come from. She experienced a measure of redemption when he stared at her, apparently in shock.
“If you’d hoped to shock me, then you just did. But, even if I did permit you to seduce me nothing would change, Princess.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. Everything would change.” She had no intention of seducing him or any other man, but Ana was willing to bet her fortune that if they were to have an intimate relationship everything between them would change.
Chuckling softly, he winked at her. “We’ll just have to wait and see, won’t we?” His teasing mood changed like quicksilver. “And there will be no plans of seduction from either one of us. Diego asked me to protect, not take advantage of you.”
“Do you always do what my cousin asks you to do?”
He shrugged a shoulder. “Within reason, yes. And the same goes for him.”
“You’re that tight.” Ana’s question was a statement.
“Very tight,” Jacob confirmed. “Now that we’ve settled the notion of you trying to get one over on me, I’m going outside. Either you can stay here or sit outside and relax.”
Chapter 4
Ana followed Jacob to the deck, her gaze scanning the spacious area. It was the perfect place to begin or end the day. Smiling, she inhaled a lungful of saltwater air. The views here were better than the ones from her condo. Lowering her body to the recliner, she turned on her belly, rested her head on folded arms and then closed her eyes.
Even though she felt a modicum of peace for the first time in days, Ana didn’t want to accept that she was like someone who’d entered the Witness Protection Program. Cut off from her family, she couldn’t go wherever she wanted, and she couldn’t talk to whomever she wanted with Jacob listening in on the call. Prisoners were granted more rights than she was. At least they had privileges that included family visits and the right to confer with their attorneys.
Thoughts of her temporary exile were supplanted with the heart-stopping images of Tyler lying motionless on the ground, bleeding from his chest wound. His wife had kept an around-the-clock bedside vigil. Dana had put on a brave face when she gave Tyler an update on the antics of their children. She told Tyler he had to get well and come home and rescue their pets. Their children had given their chocolate-brown miniature poodles Mohawk haircuts, then painted their toenails fluorescent pink and green.
Ana wanted cry, scream or even throw something, but that would indicate weakness or lack of control, and for her that wasn’t a thought or an option. As the youngest of four she always had to fight to assert herself, especially in a family where boys were groomed from birth to go into the family business, while the girls were left to their own career choice. The tradition had begun with her uncle Martin who’d succeeded Samuel Cole, the founder of ColeDiz International, Ltd. as CEO. Her father, David, gave up a musical career to take over the reins for nine years before relinquishing the responsibility to his nephew. Timothy Cole-Thomas ran the company for thirty-five years before stepping down at sixty.
Diego had broken with tradition when he’d asked her to come and work with him, but Ana loved the music industry and working with Jason. And for the first time she wondered, if she’d gone to work for ColeDiz would Tyler be in a hospital and would she be hiding out in the Keys until the person or persons responsible for the shooting were apprehended.
Summer Vows (Arabesque) Page 7
