by BETH KERY
“Is it still nighttime? Did you just work out?” she asked in sleepy confusion.
“Yeah. It’s my routine, five days a week.” Well, that certainly explains the rock-hard body. He brushed her hair back from her face, and she shivered. “So is this next part. You’re coming with me for that. Here’s your robe.”
She rose groggily and scurried into her robe. “Where are we going?”
“You’ll see. It’s nice.”
That’s all he’d say as she followed him down the grand staircase and through the great room. They walked out onto the cool terrace, and Harper saw the pink glow of sunrise over the mountains to the left.
“Good morning, Mr. Latimer,” a woman said.
“Hi, Gabby. Shelly, thanks for coming on short notice,” Jacob said.
“Not a problem at all. Happy to do it,” Shelly said.
They approached two women who were standing near a lit outdoor fireplace. They wore white smocks and pants and were smiling. Harper noticed the massage tables that had been arranged near the fire. Shelly and Gabby both peeled back the linens and blanket on them invitingly.
“You get a massage every time after you work out?” she breathed out quietly, for Jacob’s ears alone. “An outdoor massage at sunrise?” she added, glancing out to the spectacular panoramic view of the blazing sun peeking over the top of the mountains and sending rays of fire into the glittering jewel of the lake. She noticed Jacob’s wry expression and laughed softly. “Of course you do.”
The masseuses turned away while they undressed and got under the blanket. Harper was faster than Jacob, since she wore only a robe. She watched him with her cheek turned on the soft sheet as he shucked off his clothing and tennis shoes and came facedown on the table, the gold and red of the sunrise gleaming on his bronzed skin and body. He caught her staring as he drew the sheet up over his ass, but she didn’t look away. Maybe it was the novelty of the situation, or the warmth on her skin from the nearby fire, but she didn’t hide the admiration in her eyes, either. He noticed. Their gazes held and stuck, even as the masseuses approached their tables.
Harper had the flickering thought that she was glad Jacob got Gabby, who was middle-aged and stocky, but strong-looking, while Shelly was younger and attractive. As soon as Shelly began her massage, though, Harper couldn’t have cared less if it was a supermodel that occasionally massaged Jacob’s gorgeous body in the romantic setting. The woman was talented. Jacob clearly hired her for her skills, not her looks.
The massage in combination with the warmth from the fire had Harper as limp as a cooked noodle by the time Shelly finished.
“That was fantastic, thank you,” Harper told Shelly through lips that had gone slack and tingly.
“I’m glad you enjoyed it. Please get up slowly. You’re very relaxed,” Shelly said quietly before she and Gabby exited the terrace, giving them privacy.
She looked over at Jacob. He was coming to a sitting position on the table, the white sheet draped low over his taut abdomen. His blondish-brown hair was mussed and strands fell onto his forehead. He looked good enough to eat.
“Did you like?” he asked.
“So much that I can’t move. My muscles have never been so spoiled,” she mumbled, throwing back the sheet and reaching for her robe.
“Then we’ll do it tomorrow, as well.” She glanced up at him as she tossed the robe around her shoulders. “I mean, if you’d like? Dinner tonight, too? I promise I’ll do better than raiding the fridge this time.”
She laughed. “Don’t promise on my account. That was the best meal I’ve had in years.”
“Is that a yes?”
She glanced over at him. His gaze was on her bare breasts.
“You know it is,” she said softly. He looked up and met her stare. She felt that increasingly familiar unfurling in her lower belly.
“Jacob?”
Harper looked around at the woman’s voice, startled. Her eyes widened when she saw Elizabeth Shields walking briskly across the terrace in her pumps. Harper scrambled hastily into her robe, drawing it closed over her naked body. Unfortunately, she wasn’t fast enough. Elizabeth halted in her tracks, her stare on Harper. Then she looked abruptly downward at the stone floor.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize you weren’t alone,” Elizabeth said.
“What is it?” Jacob asked her in a clipped tone.
Elizabeth glanced up cautiously. When she noticed that Harper was covered, she stepped forward. She had a cell phone in her hand, and was covering the receiver.
“It’s Alex calling about the ResourceSoft acquisition. I’m afraid there’s been a snag,” she glanced over at Harper, clearly still uncomfortable airing Jacob’s private affairs in front of her.
“It’s okay, Elizabeth,” Jacob said. “What’s the problem?”
“There’s a liability issue. A man has come forward and claimed a prior copyright on the software.”
Jacob cursed under his breath. He held out his hand, frowning forbiddingly. Harper sensed the shift in his focus, along with his irritation. Elizabeth gave him the phone.
Harper turned away, tightening her robe and smoothing her hair while Jacob talked to whoever was on the phone in terse, brisk language. He didn’t take long, but even so, she caught a glimpse of his diamond-hard focus. It intimidated her a little, seeing that brilliant, glacial side of his personality. He signed off as she turned around. His gaze flickered across her, and she sensed his methodical mind working through a myriad of scenarios.
“I’m sorry. I’m going to have to leave for San Francisco this afternoon,” he said distractedly.
“Oh.” She was expecting him to say something like that, given what she’d just overheard on the phone. Still, she was disappointed. They’d gone from the warmth of the moment and the promise of more excitement and intimacy tonight to having it all ripped away in a second. “Well, I’m sure it can’t be helped . . .” She faded off, made uncomfortable with Elizabeth standing there, listening to the whole exchange.
“It sure as hell can’t,” Jacob muttered angrily, hopping onto the terrace, still holding the white sheet against his lower body, insouciant in his mostly nude state, even in front of Elizabeth. He handed the phone to his assistant.
“Call Jenny and Marianne and let them know I’ll be there this evening.” He rattled off a few other instructions to Elizabeth, and Elizabeth made a few suggestions. Harper started to feel like a third wheel, they were both so intent on their plans. Finally, Elizabeth nodded and started to walk away.
“No. Wait,” Jacob called tersely to Elizabeth. He turned to Harper.
“Come with me? To San Francisco.”
She blinked in amazement. She’d thought he’d forgotten she was there.
“I have work.”
“It’s Friday of Labor Day weekend. I’ll wait until you’re off. We’ll fly out of the Truckee-Tahoe Airport and be in San Francisco in forty-five minutes. I’ll get you back on Sunday. Cyril is in San Francisco right now. Maybe you two could get together while I’m in meetings, discuss the film contract or screenplay ideas.”
She glanced anxiously at Elizabeth, who was watching her closely.
“Okay. I mean . . . I guess that could work,” she said impulsively, finding it impossible to resist.
Finding him impossible to resist.
For a second, his irritation and preoccupation with the snag in his acquisition might never have been. He flashed a smile. Harper thought he looked relieved. For a few seconds, she was positive she’d made the right decision in agreeing. How could it be a bad choice, when it made him smile that way?
“Make the arrangements please?” he said to Elizabeth, his gaze remaining on Harper.
“Of course,” Elizabeth said, giving Harper one last uneasy glance before she walked into the house.
“I’m sorry about your deal complic
ations,” Harper told him when they were alone again.
“I’ll get it straightened out,” he said grimly. His expression lightened a little. “And at least you’ll be there.”
She forced a smile and walked toward him. “For the weekend. For the moment.”
He reached out to palm her jaw and ducked his head, seizing her mouth in one swift, unexpected movement. His kiss was hard. Hot. Greedy. Harper felt her toes curling into the stone terrace. Her brain went blank for several heated seconds.
He tore his mouth from hers and pressed their foreheads together, fisting her hair. She looked up slightly, seeing the gleam in his eyes.
“I’m going to make them moments you’re never going to forget. Trust me?” he asked quietly against her open mouth.
“Yes,” she whispered.
Because as usual, her doubts couldn’t exist simultaneously with his touch. That’s what had her breathless at the idea of spending the entire weekend with him.
Not to mention scared half out of her mind.
5
make me
RISK IT
twenty-one
Living up to his easygoing management style, Sangar had no problem whatsoever telling Harper to go home once she’d turned in her work that Friday. Harper called Jacob and let him know she could leave for San Francisco whenever he was ready. His driver and he were there in the parking lot when she walked out of the newsroom ten minutes later.
The glamour and novelty of Lattice’s sleek private jet awaiting them at the Truckee-Tahoe Airport that afternoon only added to her sense of general euphoria at the prospect of a weekend with Jacob. He was on the phone a lot during their chauffeured ride to the airport and after boarding the plane. He’d immediately apologized for his preoccupation with business when she got into the limo with him. Harper assured him she understood. He’d already put off leaving for San Francisco because he was waiting for her to finish work, after all. She relaxed in the luxurious seat, listening to him talk and experiencing his concise, drilling intelligence firsthand. Unlike this morning on the terrace, when she’d found him intimidating, she found herself relaxing, however. Wasn’t it natural, that he could apply that intense focus of his wherever he chose?
Once the pilot informed them that they’d be taking off soon, he hung up his cell phone and dropped it on the table in front of them with a clunking sound.
He took her hand.
“Hi,” he said.
“Hi,” Harper returned, smiling over at him.
“Sorry again about all that,” he said, nodding at his phone.
“No problem. Does it look like a problem you’ll be able to solve?” she asked. She knew by listening to him he’d been conferring with others on the copyright claim on the software for the business he wanted to buy.
“It’ll get solved. It’s just a matter of how much time and money we have to throw at this thing to get it there.”
“Does the prior copyright claim on the software seem legitimate?” she asked.
His stare was on her face. As usual, she felt uniquely aware of herself and her body when his focused attention was on her. “Legitimate enough to bring it to court. It’s my job to convince the claimant that it’s not worth his time and money to take it there.” He abruptly planted a kiss on her mouth, making Harper blink in surprised pleasure. “Forget about work. Are you comfortable? Do you want anything to drink?”
“No, I’m fine.”
“I’ve told Cyril we were coming. He invited himself over to my house tomorrow. He has some ideas about the film he wants to run by you.”
“That’d be great.” She laughed when Jacob made a face. “You act like Cyril is a pain, but you actually like his company, don’t you?”
He merely shrugged, but something about his small smile told her that what she’d said was true.
“Maybe it’ll be for the best if he comes over. I’ll be in meetings tomorrow afternoon. Cyril can keep you company. I promise you a nice dinner tomorrow night, though, and we have tickets to the opera tonight.”
“It sounds great.”
“Good. You don’t want to sit next to the window?” he asked, nodding toward the seat across from him.
“No, I’d rather sit next to you.”
The plane began to move on the runway. He seemed tense. Distracted.
“What?” she asked him, sensing he had something on his tongue.
“Is flying . . . or heights, one of the fears you had when you were a kid?”
“No,” she replied without hesitation.
“Do you mind if I ask what you were afraid of when you were young? Besides . . . you know. Knives?”
“Why? I don’t have those phobias anymore,” she said, honestly curious about why he would want to know.
He shrugged, bringing her attention down to his broad shoulders. He was wearing a white shirt and a tweed blazer. She had to restrain herself from putting her hands all over him, he looked so appealing. “I was just interested. It’s amazing, the way your father was able to get rid of your phobias so completely.”
“Dogs,” she admitted after a pause, sighing. “That’s why I got a little freaked out when Charger charged me on the beach.”
His eyebrows went up. “So the fears weren’t completely eradicated.”
“You saw me with all your dogs. Lots of people would jump if a large animal ran at them, but I keep it under control. I can manage my anxiety.”
“Right,” he murmured. The plane turned onto the runway. He was looking at her intently, stroking her hand with his thumb, seemingly unaware when the plane began to speed up for takeoff. “Was there anything else?”
“Crowds. Being out in public.”
“You were agoraphobic?”
“Yes. School phobic, too, because of it,” she said, looking away from his incising stare . . . feeling a little stupid. Embarrassed. She cleared her throat, reminding herself she was a grown woman now and was no longer that frightened girl. “I was never really afraid of people, per se, it was being out that got to me. I felt vulnerable. Exposed. I missed a good part of the seventh grade, because of it. Between doing the schoolwork at home, tutoring, and summer school, I was able to enter the eighth grade with my original class. Although, even in the eighth grade, my attendance was still a little problematic. By my sophomore year or so, the worst of my anxieties were past. I joined the school newspaper and the creative writing club.” She shrugged. “Writing kind of brought me out of my shell.”
“That’s a lot of time lost. Do you regret it?”
“Sure. A whole chunk of my childhood was taken from me.” The plane lifted from the ground and began hurtling through empty space. The engines hummed loudly in her ears.
“Why?” he asked.
“Why what?”
“Isn’t there usually a precipitating event to phobias like you had? Some kind of trauma?” he probed.
She focused on him, slightly incredulous that he expected her to spill her vulnerabilities. “Sometimes, but not necessarily. Why are you so curious about my teenage neuroses? Are you worried they’re going to make a reappearance?”
“No. I’m just interested. I want to know you better.”
She gave him a seriously? glance. His expression flattened, and she knew he’d just recalled their conversation from last night, the one where he’d told her firmly he didn’t discuss his past.
“I get it,” he said, his mouth pressed into a hard line. “I’m not allowed to question you about your past if—”
“You won’t let me do the same about yours? I’m actually okay with you asking, Jacob. It’d be nice if you at least recognized the double standard, though.”
He looked out the window, his face turned in profile. In the distance, she saw the Sierra Nevada mountains falling away from them.
“But not of heights,” she heard him s
ay very quietly.
“Excuse me?”
“You weren’t afraid of heights,” he clarified. At first, she was puzzled by his statement, but after a moment, she considered it seriously.
“I used to be pretty nervous about heights, when I was really little,” she replied thoughtfully, examining their clasped hands where they rested on his long, solid thigh.
“But not anymore?” Jacob asked. She realized she’d sounded a little wistful, and that he’d turned and was peering at her.
“No,” she replied softly. “Not anymore.”
“Your father cured you of that fear, too?”
“Not my father. Someone else.”
From the periphery of her vision, she saw him open his mouth. He closed it without speaking. She stared out the window as they soared through the air, only feeling a sense of calm power as he held her hand tightly in his.
Twenty Years Ago
When Jake opened his eyes the next morning at dawn, it was like waking up in a different body. A different world. His nose was buried in Harper’s soft hair. It smelled of hay from the loft, and peaches. They were on their sides, her back pressed against his front. He held her against him with one arm encircling her waist.
Combining their heat had worked. He was warm.
And he ached . . .
The realization made him scoot away from her as fast as if he’d realized he hugged a tarantula to him. His hasty scuttling in the blankets made her stir. He regretted awakening her. But it was mortifying, the uncontrollable reaction of his body. It was as embarrassing as it would have been if he’d peed his pants in the middle of the night, and a girl was about to discover it. And not one of the giggling, swarming girls from Poplar Gorge Junior High, either.
This wasn’t just any girl. It was Harper McFadden.
“Jake?” she asked sleepily.
“Yeah. It’s okay. Go back to sleep,” he ordered gruffly, reaching for a discarded sock.
“’S okay. I’ll get up, if you are.”
