Make Me

by BETH KERY

  He glanced away. “I’d like to call, at the very least. She recently left substance abuse rehab, and it’s a vulnerable time for her. I was shocked to see her here in San Francisco. And she’s relapsed. Again. Elizabeth is going to hear it from me, for letting it slip I was in San Francisco tonight. I can’t imagine what she was thinking,” he said grimly.

  “Do you love her?” Harper blinked, shocked that the words had spilled out of her throat. “It’s just . . . I’ve never seen you so undone, so clearly upset,” she rushed to explain.

  “No. I’m not in love with her.”

  Harper nodded slowly. “And what was all that with that man . . . Clint Jefferies? Why was he so shocked to see you with Regina?”

  The car came to a halt.

  “That,” Jacob replied somberly, sliding over on the seat and reaching for the door, “was just a very unfortunate chance meeting.”

  • • •

  Harper awoke in the middle of the night, disoriented. She found a bedside lamp and switched it on.

  She looked around Jacob’s enormous suite, her heart sinking when she realized she was alone. Jacob’s side of the bed hadn’t been touched. She rubbed at her blurry eyes and focused on a nearby clock. It was twenty minutes past three in the morning.

  Earlier, Jacob had escorted her up to his suite and caught her hand.

  “Why don’t you get ready for bed? I’m just going to make that phone call to Regina, to make sure she’s all right.”

  Harper nodded and turned to go, but he halted her, squeezing on her hand. He pulled her against him, one hand cupping her hip, the other her jaw. He tilted her face up. His mouth brushed hers. Harper felt her pulse leap at her throat, her reaction to him unchanged despite the weird, bewildering evening.

  “I am sorry, Harper. You have no idea.”

  “I know. I hope she’s okay,” she whispered sincerely.

  He’d swept down then, seizing her mouth. It was like he was telling her something with that forceful, quick kiss, but Harper didn’t know what. A moment later, he released her abruptly and headed toward a closed wooden door without a backward glance. She knew from Marianne’s brief tour of his quarters that the door led to a private office. She watched him open and shut the door behind him, then went to the guest bathroom to change.

  Feeling self-conscious and highly unsure, she pulled out the short, black silk nightgown she’d brought. Knowing what she knew about Jacob, she’d guessed she wouldn’t require pajamas over the weekend. She’d assumed they’d be sleeping naked. Fortunately, she had brought the nightgown, but now regretted its sexiness, given how the evening was turning out.

  Now it was hours later, and she still wore the nightgown and slept alone. She rose from the luxurious bed, listening for any sound of movement or noise that might give her an indication of Jacob’s whereabouts. A terrace door was opened. The only thing she could hear was the sound of the ocean surf hitting the beach far below the cliff.

  She anxiously approached Jacob’s closed office door. For several seconds, she stood poised with her fist in the air, hesitating. She grit her teeth, her knuckles finally landing on the wood.

  “Jacob?” she called.

  Silence.

  She rapped again and said his name.

  The knob turned smoothly in her hand. She pushed open the door, and it swung inward, revealing his opulent, dimly lit, completely empty office.

  • • •

  He returned to Sea Cliff just past dawn, bone-tired and bleary-eyed. A surge of adrenaline went through him, however, when he walked into his bedroom suite and saw his made, empty bed.

  Shit. He’d assumed he’d be back before Harper woke up. He stalked down the hallway in search of Marianne.

  You shouldn’t have let her believe that Regina was a former lover.

  He’d had no choice, though. The conclusion she’d jumped to had been believable and simple, while the truth was far more complicated and disquieting . . .

  . . . Not to mention closer to Harper than she’d ever suspect.

  He found Marianne helping his cook, Alfred, unpack some groceries in the kitchen.

  “Where’s Harper?” he demanded without preamble the second he plunged into the room.

  Marianne blinked, looking startled.

  “At the pool. Or at least she was as of about twenty minutes ago, when I took her there.”

  He exhaled in relief. At least she hadn’t left the house to return to Tahoe.

  He found her just where Marianne said she’d be. She wore a pair of shorts and a T-shirt, and her long, copper-colored hair was in a bun on the top of her head. She sat at the edge of the pool, her pretty legs dipped in the water.

  “Hi,” she said, looking surprised when she saw him stalk up to her. Her large eyes traveled down him. He was still wearing his suit from last night.

  “I didn’t think you’d be up so early,” he said, trying to read the expression on her face, and failing.

  “I’ve been up since three thirty,” she said, setting aside the magazine she’d been reading. “I thought I’d look for the pool when it got light. It seemed like a better option than waiting in your bedroom, wondering where you were.”

  “I’m sorry. Shit. I’ve been saying that a lot lately, haven’t I?” he muttered, clamping his eyes shut briefly.

  “What happened?”

  He opened his eyes. She was irritated with him, but it was concern he read most clearly on her face at the moment.

  “I had to take her to the hospital,” he said.

  She lifted her feet out of the water and stood, facing him.

  “Is she all right?”

  He nodded. “Her date had left her, and she’d gotten into the hotel room’s liquor. She sounded bad off when I finally got ahold of her last night. By the time I got to the hotel, she’d passed out. I took her over to UCSF’s emergency room, but there wasn’t much they could do except assure me that she was going to be fine and give her an IV to rehydrate her.”

  “Didn’t the doctor recommend that she go back to rehab?”

  “Of course he did, and they had a social worker come and talk to her to try to convince her to return. But they can’t force her to go, and Regina was flat-out refusing.”

  “Where is she now?” Harper asked, stepping closer.

  “Back at her hotel room, sleeping.”

  “Do you think she’ll be all right? Alone?”

  “No. Last night I arranged for Elizabeth to fly in and stay with her. Elizabeth will get her back to Napa later today. Regina has a psychiatrist there that she trusts. I’ve let him know what happened. Regina agreed to go back last night. Let’s hope she remembers the agreement this morning.”

  She touched his face with cool fingertips. The caress took him by surprise. He hadn’t been prepared for tenderness on her part. He would have thought he’d be reassured by it, but instead he was even more worried. Her calmness somehow made him wary . . . like she was pulling away from him. He would have preferred accusations and tears.

  “You look exhausted,” she said quietly.

  He reached up and held her wrist, keeping her fingers in place on his skin . . . always doubtful something would pull her away.

  Even now.

  “So do you,” he replied, his gaze running over her face. The scar near her mouth looked even paler than usual, and there were light purple circles beneath her eyes.

  “You did all that for her,” she whispered.

  He grimaced. “I didn’t feel like I had a choice. She’s been diagnosed with bipolar disorder, and she has a history of cocaine and heroin abuse. I wasn’t sure what else she’d taken, besides alcohol. She couldn’t tell me, the state she was in. That’s why I took her to the hospital.”

  “I understand.” Her fingers slipped off his face. He saw her swallow thickly. She looked achingly bea
utiful to him in the pale morning light. So far out of your reach.

  “It’s just all been . . . unsettling. I had no idea you cared about another woman that way, especially one so beautiful. And to wake up and realize you were gone . . .”

  “I thought I’d get back before you got up. I didn’t want to wake you last night. Damn it, I don’t know how else to tell you to make you believe me.”

  “Tell me what?”

  “I’m not sleeping with Regina. It’s not like that.”

  “You don’t have to keep saying that. I believe you. What kind of a friend would you be, abandoning her when she was in so much trouble,” she said, staring down at the ground. “I guess her date—that guy, David?—wasn’t much of one. A friend, I mean. He left her alone?”

  “Yeah,” Jacob replied, frowning.

  “It seems like you’re used to it.”

  “What?”

  “Riding to her rescue,” she replied quietly, studying his pant legs. “When you were called away the other night, when were supposed to have dinner. Did you go to Napa because of her? I only wondered because Elizabeth told me you were in Napa for an emergency.”

  He put his fingers beneath her chin and lifted her face. “I can understand that you’re curious. But Regina deserves some privacy in all this. I don’t think it’s fair for me to talk about her problems to someone she doesn’t even know. I realize these circumstances aren’t ideal. I’m sorry it happened while we were here together. Trust me, I wish like hell it hadn’t.”

  Her blue-green eyes looked moist. She nodded abruptly.

  “You’re right. I would have liked you less, knowing that you were the type to abandon a friend when they were in need. I’m glad you went to help her.”

  “Thank you,” he said, holding her stare. “Elizabeth will have things in hand. You don’t need to worry about it anymore. It’s done. Okay?”

  She’s not going to be this forgiving forever.

  He pushed down the sarcastic voice in his head. Harper hadn’t left, and she wasn’t freezing him out. For the moment, anyway. Still, he felt uncharacteristically doubtful about how to proceed.

  She nodded, attempting a smile. “You should get some sleep before you have to get back to work again.”

  He glanced around the sunlit pool area and over the balcony onto the Pacific Ocean, really taking in his surroundings for the first time since arriving home. The only thing he’d been able to consider since seeing that empty bed was finding Harper. A gust of sea air rushed over him, sweeping away the cobwebs of his sleepless night and anxiety. Or maybe it was Harper’s clear, crystalline eyes and gentle touch that had done that.

  “How about a swim? It might help us to sleep a few hours.”

  “I didn’t bring a swimsuit. That’s why I’m wearing this,” she said, nodding down at her shorts and T-shirt.

  “You don’t need a swimsuit.”

  She gave him a give me a break look. “You’re bound and determined to see me shamed in front of your staff at some point, aren’t you?”

  “If you don’t want to, we won’t have sex.”

  It was like she was fading, and he needed to connect with her again. The only way that felt right at the moment wasn’t Jacob’s way.

  It was Jake’s.

  He didn’t like the idea of reverting back to it, but the alternative of watching Harper continue to move away from him was worse. It was stupid on his part, but the compulsion was strong.

  “Come on,” he coaxed. “It’ll feel good. Then we’ll go up and take a nap.”

  He saw the hesitation in her eyes and thought he knew part of the cause of it. He turned and jogged up the flight of stairs to the glass doors. He opened one and reached inside, touching a button. Opaque blinds began to slide down the terrace windows.

  “The staff knows not to come outside if they’re down,” he said when he returned to her.

  She rolled her eyes. “You’re hardly reassuring me, Jacob.”

  He exhaled, seeing his misstep. She’d assumed his staff was trained not to come outside when the blinds were down because he was privately engaged with a woman when they were.

  She’d assumed correctly.

  Fuck. Sometimes, it felt like all the tools that had worked with him in the past with women—even his aloofness—weren’t assets with Harper, but liabilities. He reached up and tucked an escaped tendril of hair behind her ear, then brushed her cheek with the back of his knuckles. She was so soft. So beautiful. Something seemed to well up in him. God, he must be exhausted.

  “Just swim with me,” he murmured, dipping his head and kissing her nose. “I know you like to swim.”

  “How do you know that?” she asked, a hint of wariness crossing her features.

  “You said you like the water when we were out on the yacht. You just seem like a swimmer,” he said, deflecting his error. “Come on, I dare you.”

  She laughed and shook her head, finally shrugging in acquiescence. Relief swept through him. “What the hell? I don’t get a chance to take a dip in a place like this often.” She waved at the pool and terrace and the view of the Pacific Ocean.

  “Okay,” he said, stepping away from her. He reached down to untie his shoes. “Whoever hits the water first wins the prize.”

  She looked startled, and he thought he knew why. She’d expected a seduction, despite what he’d said. He’d told her he’d always undress her for sex. “What kind of a prize?” she asked.

  He stood, shrugged, and kicked off his shoes. “The pride of being the fastest stripper, I guess.”

  Her eyes caught fire. Victory flashed through him. He knew that look all too well.

  “I’ll win,” she told him steadfastly, whipping off her shirt and immediately attacking the buttons on her shorts. “I’ve got less on.”

  He laughed full out and turned away, jerking his jacket off. Even before he could start on his shirt, he heard a whoop and a loud splash in the water.

  “Too slow, sucka.”

  He turned, his expression rigid, his belt buckle clutched in his hand. She treaded water in the center of the pool, grinning from ear to ear.

  God bless it, girl.

  The voice rang out of his past, crystal clear. It was Jake Tharp’s overwhelmed voice. Maybe it was his.

  He dropped his shirt to a lounge chair a few seconds later, a feeling of inevitability hitting him.

  No. It was both of them—Jake and Jacob—combined. Only Harper could have brought Jake to life again in him.

  Only Harper could have made it feel achingly bittersweet.

  Twenty Years Ago

  She surfaced a second after he did in the river, gasping and sucking air into her lungs. She stared at him blankly for a second while she treaded water, as if the fall had rattled her brain and she didn’t recognize who he was.

  “Harper?” Jake asked worriedly. “You okay?”

  Her sudden radiant smile floored him.

  “Can we do it again?” she asked.

  “What?”

  “That was so cool!”

  He scoffed doubtfully, swimming closer to her. “Did you hurt your head?” he asked, examining the bruise and abrasion on her forehead that Emmitt had given her. Maybe the cliff jump had made it worse?

  “No.” She looked offended. “What, a city girl can’t get off on an adrenaline rush?”

  “Maybe a city girl,” he mumbled. Their treading legs brushed together, sending tingling pleasure through him. “Don’t know about you, though. You said you hated heights. Now you want to do it again? Are you crazy?”

  She laughed and stared up the stark face of the cliff.

  “Wow,” she said. Her eyes sparkled. It was like she’d said, I did that.

  “You did it, all right,” he acknowledged gruffly. She looked at him, perhaps startled that he’d read her mind. Her smi
le grew even wider. She slapped at the water.

  “That was the most amazing thing I’ve ever done. I was scared out of mind.” She jetted backward on her back and then spun around completely in a circle, only to swoosh backward again. Jake scurried to keep up with her.

  “What are you, a damn otter or something?” he grumbled.

  “I can’t help it. I like to swim. And that was fantastic.”

  She let out a whoop at having conquered her fear. Maybe it was more than that. She came to a standstill and pushed with her hands, leaping up in the water like a playful dolphin. Jake went wide-eyed at the vision of his Mountaineer’s T-shirt plastered against her supple torso and firm, thrusting breasts.

  “God bless it, girl, get ahold of yourself. Do you want Emmitt to hear?” he spat. But that’s not really what he meant. What he meant was more like, God bless it, what the hell are you doing to me?

  Her eyes flashed at him and she sunk down to her chin in the water. Regret and embarrassment swept through him at his show of temper . . .

  . . . at her wide-eyed hurt and disbelief.

  “Where do we get out,” she asked coldly after a moment, her brows slanted angrily.

  He waved at a landing thirty feet or so downstream. She immediately launched into the water. By the time he caught up to her, she was already standing and walking toward the sandbar, jerkily straightening the soaked, clinging T-shirt off her hips, bottom, and thighs at the same time.

  “Harper, I’m sorry. It’s just . . . you were being really loud,” he said, sloshing behind her in waist-deep water.

  “You’re mean sometimes,” she declared bluntly, pausing to gather her T-shirt at the thighs and wring it out.

  “I ain’t mean.”

  She glanced around, her gaze narrowing on his face. He knelt lower in the water, trying to shield any evidence of the hurt he’d felt at her proclamation.

  “Do you really want to do it again?” he blurted out.

  Her gaze strayed to the stark cliff face, and again he saw that flicker of exhilaration on her expression. “I think so. Do we have time to do it now?”