“Is the storm over?”
“Yeah. We should be able to get out of here by the time we’ve eaten and packed up.” He didn’t look around at her. “I won’t turn around if you want to get dressed.”
He heard the rustling of the bedclothes and the whispery sounds of clothes being pulled over soft skin.
His damned imagination was working overtime.
By the time she joined him in the kitchen area he was ready to bolt from the room once more. Instead, he stayed, and the two of them prepared a quick breakfast, then methodically packed and put out the fires in the cookstove and the heating stove.
Before Rebecca could quite believe it, they were heading across the valley to the path that led to the canyon.
Jake carried two bags as well as his backpack, still insisting that she keep her hands free. Because of the narrowness in the trail he made two trips to carry both bags, leaving one arm free to brace against the side of the cliff.
Somehow the return trip seemed so much quicker to Rebecca, partly because she had a better idea where she was going and partly because it was downhill most of the way. After the first half hour her achy muscles warmed up and began to cooperate, so that she actually enjoyed herself on the trip down.
However, she was still glad to see the truck and was disgusted to discover that Jake wasn’t even breathing hard from the exertion and the extra weight he’d been carrying.
They were in the truck and heading out of the mountains when he said, “Mel and Betty are going to be surprised at my decision to go back with you, I guess.”
“They’ll miss you, I’m sure.”
“Who knows? Maybe I’ll get them to come out for a quick visit.”
When they reached the café, he pulled into the driveway and parked next to her rental car. With economical movements, he loaded his belongings as well as her things into the trunk, then took her elbow and escorted her into the café.
Betty greeted them with a beaming smile. “Well, it’s good to see that storm yesterday didn’t do you no harm. Why, you’re up mighty bright and early. You must have gotten up with the sun.”
“Just about,” Jake admitted, straddling a bar stool and motioning Rebecca to sit down. “I’ve got a favor to ask.”
Mel walked through the swinging door with two cinnamon rolls dripping with icing. Betty poured coffee and set cups in front of them. “Anything you want, Jake. You know that.”
He grinned. “You haven’t heard the favor.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Mel pointed out gruffly.
Jake just shook his head. “I was wondering if I could leave my truck here with you. You’d need to drive it for me every so often, keep the battery up, that sort of thing.”
Mel glanced at Rebecca before he replied. In an innocent tone he asked, “You going somewhere?”
Jake postponed answering by taking a large bite of the roll and then drinking some of the coffee. “I’m going back to Seattle with Rebecca.”
“Changed your mind, did she?” Mel offered.
“Something like that.”
Jake watched the older couple share a look before they each smiled at Rebecca, then gazed back at him with amusement glinting in their eyes.
Damn, but he was glad he was able to provide so much entertainment for them at his expense. Well, hell, he didn’t owe them any explanations. “Will that be a problem?” he finally asked, when no one seemed inclined to say anything more.
“Not at all,” Mel replied.
“Good.” He glanced at Rebecca, who had demolished the roll that had been set in front of her despite a substantial breakfast at the cabin.
“You ready to go?”
She carefully wiped her mouth with a paper napkin. “Any time you are,” she replied agreeably.
He finished his coffee and stood. “Then let’s get this show on the road.” He stepped behind the counter and gave Betty a hug. “You take care of yourself, hear? I’ll stay in touch.”
Mel placed his hand on Jake’s shoulder. “You do that.”
Once on the road they made good time to El Paso. Jake had offered to drive. He used the time to discuss his ideas about the situation at the plant. Rebecca offered some suggestions, and they reviewed the names of employees who might be more apt to have the skill and contacts to pull off a plan such as the one Jake had spotted.
By the time they boarded the plane to Seattle, they had decided on a plan of action. They lapsed into silence for some time before either one spoke again.
“Jake?” she asked.
“Umm?”
“Have you thought about where you’ll stay while you’re in Seattle?”
He rubbed his chin. “Not really. It isn’t important. I’m sure I’ll be able to find a furnished apartment close to the plant.”
“I’ve been thinking about that, and I just want you to know that you’re welcome to stay at my place, if you like.” She licked her lips nervously. Before he could comment, she hurriedly continued. “The place is huge, as you know. Dad and I rattled around in it. There’s plenty of room if—”
“Rebecca?”
She stopped her nervous speech and looked at him. “Yes?”
“I don’t think it would be a good idea for me to stay at your place, but thanks for the offer.”
“Why not? It makes sense, when you really think about it. The cook will be happy to have someone else besides me to feed. It would certainly be more convenient for you to have staff to look after your needs.”
He cleared his throat. “I was thinking about you.”
“What about me?”
“Your reputation.”
She looked at him in surprise. “Why should you care what anyone thinks? Besides, it’s nobody’s business.”
“No, but that won’t stop them from talking. There will be all kind of speculation as it is. I don’t know what Brock told them about my reasons for leaving.”
“I’ve already told you. Dad never discussed you at all once you left, with me or anyone.”
He sighed. “It will just complicate things.”
“I don’t see why it should.”
He shook his head. “God, but you’re stubborn.”
“And you aren’t, I suppose?”
He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. “All right. I’ll stay at your place for a couple of days and see how things go. Once I get involved at the office, I probably won’t be doing much away from the company but sleeping, anyway.”
Belatedly he remembered to thank her for her offer.
“It’s the least I could do, given the circumstances.” She looked down at her magazine. “Don’t worry. I doubt that our paths will cross at home. I manage to stay fairly busy, myself.”
Good, Jake thought. I don’t need the aggravation of fighting the attraction I’m feeling. The sooner I get this mess cleared up, the faster I can return to Texas.
For some reason the idea didn’t tantalize him as much as he had hoped. Instead, he could feel himself gearing up to move once again into the cutthroat world of business. He could feel the adrenaline rush overtake him as he plotted and planned his comeback.
Rebecca watched the man beside her make notes in the files he continued to review and smiled to herself. Jake was more like her father than he would ever admit. She had understood her father quite well. The man had thrived on challenge.
Jake had met the challenge of the wilderness. Despite his retreat last year, he was returning to the business arena ready to take on whatever nasty machinations were going on. She had a hunch he’d never met a bigger challenge. She also had a hunch that he was more than man enough to handle it.
She was going to enjoy sitting ringside to watch.
Five
Jake was late. He turned between the two stone pillars and followed the paved, winding driveway to the house Brock Adams had built.
There didn’t seem to be enough time in each work day, even though he was generally at the office by six in the morning. Normally he never l
eft the office before nine at night.
Tonight was different. He was expected to escort Miss Rebecca Adams to a posh party connected with some charity or other. Normally such functions weren’t in his list of favorite things to do. He could just hear Mel laughing if he saw him at one of them.
However, this was one party he was glad to be able to attend, and he appreciated Rebecca’s mentioning it to him last week.
Troy Wrightman was also involved with this particular charity, and Jake was extremely interested in placing himself in Mr. Wrightman’s path whenever and as often as possible.
In the six weeks he’d been in Seattle, Jake had narrowed his list of possible suspects behind the problems at CPI to four men. Troy Wrightman was one of them.
Each of the four men were department heads in the company. They had worked with Brock Adams for years and therefore knew Jake.
He’d enjoyed watching their faces when he’d come in halfway through the meeting Rebecca had called the morning after she’d returned. Rebecca’s comments and observations later that evening with regard to the various reactions to Jake’s return had been very astute and helpful. He was grateful to have her input on the situation.
After six weeks, he was still staying with Rebecca. Since his arrival in Seattle he had never seemed to have the time to search for another place to live. She’d been right about that, as well. The house was large enough that they could go days without seeing each other, if they chose. In fact, they had to make an appointment to meet over dinner.
Most of the time the cook left Jake’s meal in the refrigerator. When he got home he’d stick it in the microwave to warm before falling into bed for a few hours’ sleep.
Tonight they were to eat at the party.
He left the car, one of Brock’s, parked out front and took the stairs two at a time to the front door. He let himself in with the key Rebecca had given him and strode across the foyer to the curving staircase that led to the upper level.
The damn place could have easily passed for a governor’s mansion with room for a few state assembly meetings. It was as impersonal as a hotel. He and Rebecca didn’t even live in the same wing.
Which was just as well.
His long hours had kept him from the temptation of seeking her out to spend more time with her that was not connected with business. Due to his reasons for being there, they frequently spent time together at the office, but were rarely alone. At those times business was the only subject discussed.
His respect for her intelligence and business acumen continued to grow. Unfortunately his physical responses and reactions also continued to grow. It no longer mattered whether or not she was in his presence. Somehow Rebecca managed to haunt him and fill his thoughts despite his need for concentration.
Jake opened his bedroom door and was already undressing by the time he reached the bedside. Someone had laid out his tuxedo—freshly pressed—his pleated shirt, cummerbund, tie, socks and shoes. That would save him considerable time.
He finished stripping as he entered the bathroom and stepped into the shower, quickly soaped and rinsed himself and was out within minutes. He felt his jaw, wondering if he had time to shave. Damn, he’d have to take time. After hurriedly drying off, he quickly lathered his face and went to work on his beard.
Back in the bedroom he’d just pulled on his trousers when there was a tap on the door. He zipped them, sat down on the edge of the bed and reached for his socks as he said, “Come in.”
The door opened and Rebecca peered around the door. “Are you decent?”
“A little late to ask now, don’t you think? I thought you were Charles.”
She stepped into the room, and Jake saw that she was ready. She wore a cream-colored satin gown that was strapless and hugged her body. Glittery jewels surrounded her neck and wrists as well as glinted among her dark curls, which she’d swept high on her head.
Jake continued pulling on his socks, determined not to look at her again if he could help it at all. Damn! Why did she have to look so good! In that one glimpse he knew he was going to be in big trouble tonight keeping his mind on his objective.
She walked toward the bed as he stood and reached for his shirt. “Are you responsible for seeing that this was all laid out for me?” he asked.
“I mentioned it to Charles. He’s really invaluable, don’t you think?”
“I suppose. I mean, if you’re going to have a place this size, a butler is an obvious necessity.”
She pushed his hand away as he attempted to attach a stud at his wrist and quickly attached it for him, making short work of it. He held out his other arm without comment, and she fastened that one, as well.
“Would you like to button my shirt, too?” he offered.
She stepped back and put her hands behind her back. “Sorry. I was just trying to help.”
He turned his back to her, stuffed his shirttails into his pants and rezipped them. Then he put on his shoes and reached for the cummerbund.
“Here,” he said, handing her the tie. “You might as well finish dressing me. Hope you’re better at these damned things than I am.”
She took the tie and draped it around his neck. He could smell her familiar scent wafting from her bare shoulders, and he forced his mind to think of other things.
“I’m glad you’ll be with me tonight,” she said softly. “This is the first social gathering I’ve attended without my father. I was really dreading going alone.”
“As much as I hate to admit it, I guess I could use the break away from the office.”
She grinned up at him, patting the bow in his tie and stepping back, eyeing it. “Well, I was thinking about offering to have a bed set up in your office so you wouldn’t have to leave at all. Since Dad had already installed a shower in the bathroom, you would have had all the comforts of home.”
He couldn’t resist tracing his finger along her soft, creamy cheek. “I appreciate all you’ve done for me since I arrived,” he said.
Her lashes flickered, veiling the expression in her eyes. “I’m just glad you’re here,” she replied softly. She reached for his jacket and held it up for him. He obligingly slipped his arms into the sleeves and tugged it over his shoulders.
She turned and headed toward the door. “We have less than fifteen minutes to get there before they begin serving dinner.”
Jake self-consciously patted his tie and followed her out the door. “Aren’t you going to need something on your shoulders?” he asked, following her down the stairs.
She nodded toward one of the chairs in the foyer that held a stole. He reached down and picked it up, then carefully arranged it around her shoulders. As he started to pull away he caught her eyes and recognized the vulnerability there. She’d kept such a professional demeanor around him at the office that he sometimes forgot how difficult these past several months had been for her.
He leaned down and brushed his lips over hers. “It’s all going to work out just fine, ‘Becca. I’ll be here for as long as you need me.”
Color flooded her cheeks and she stared up at him in surprise. This close he could see a darker band of gray around the iris of her silvery eyes. Those eyes had haunted more than one dream since he’d returned to the Pacific Northwest.
He took her arm and escorted her to the waiting automobile where he carefully helped her inside before getting behind the wheel and heading for their evening’s entertainment.
“You look quite distinguished in your formal wear, Jake,” she said as they drove down the driveway.
He gave her a brief glance from the corner of his eye. “Thanks.”
“Didn’t you used to attend functions of this nature when you worked with Dad?”
“Yeah.”
“Didn’t enjoy them any better then, huh?”
“Nope.”
She laughed. He glanced at her again. She seemed relaxed. He also realized that she looked like his idea of a snooty society belle ready to dazzle everyone there. Only now he knew he
r much better, knew the long hours she worked each day, knew the problems she wrestled with, including the grief she felt at losing her father.
Jake reached over and took her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. She looked at him in surprise. “Neither one of us are much like the parts we’re playing tonight, are we?”
“I’m not certain I know what you mean.”
“You certainly aren’t some empty-headed social butterfly, and I’m no dandy, despite the pleats on my damned shirt.”
She chuckled. “Thank you. I think. Is that what I look like? An empty-headed social butterfly?”
He sighed. “Guess that didn’t come out exactly the way I meant it. You look beautiful and you know it. And glamorous. As though you spent all your days shopping and polishing your image.”
She studied him for a moment before saying, “And you look as though you should be posing in a fashion magazine.”
“The hell I do!” he growled.
He could see that she was struggling not to laugh. He grinned reluctantly and let go of her hand, saying, “One thing for sure. You can hold your own in any situation.”
She primly folded her hands in her lap and said, “Thank you, sir. I’ll definitely consider that a compliment.”
* * *
Several hours later the after-dinner dance was in full swing, and Jake stepped onto the terrace that extended the ballroom out into the open air. The night air had kept most people inside but the French doors opening onto the terrace were all open.
He leaned against the wall and took a deep breath, glad to take a break. As far as he was concerned the evening had been a success. Troy Wrightman had seemed unnerved when he’d seen the two of them walk in together.
No one at the office knew that Jake was staying at the Adams residence. It must have come as a shock for Troy to think that Jake and Rebecca might be seeing each other on a social basis. If he was the one Jake was looking for, it would make sense that he wouldn’t want Jake to take too much interest in Rebecca’s affairs.
When Rebecca had announced Jake’s return to the company, she had made it sound perfectly plausible that the man her father had spent years training to run the company would be the logical one to step into his shoes now that he was gone.
Mysterious Mountain Man Page 7
