Page 41 of The Billionaire's Special Relationship

That fascinated Tabby too. “Who has a whole bar in their bedroom?” she said with a laugh. “Stuart Jacobs, that’s who.”

“Although technically,” Stuart said with a smile, defending himself, “this is a parlor adjoined to my bedroom. It’s not in my actual bedroom.”

“I’m sorry, bro, but you were right the first time. That’s just a technicality. Just admit it: Your spoiled ass has a bar in his bedroom!”

Stuart laughed out loud. Which warmed Tabby’s heart. He didn’t come across as easygoing when she first met him two years ago, and even when they met again yesterday. But he was very easy. Easy in manner. Easy in style. And definitely, she noticed when he walked from around that bar in his full nakedness, easy on the eyes. If he looked this great now, she could only imagine what he looked like when he was younger.

Why would she even think that, she thought. Did she wish he was younger? She’d never dated a man more than a few years older than she was, and they were usually domineering kind of guys who barelymade it to the second date. But oddly enough, his age didn’t give her any pause. It gave her comfort. It made her trust him more.

“Shall we?” he asked as he carried the two glasses of wine in his hand. She followed him into the ensuite bathroom, once again admiring his big body, as he sat their glasses on the side board of his fancy tub.

But when he looked back and realized she had hesitated, he immediately realized why. “It’s okay, Tabby,” he said to her. “Come to me. It’s okay.”

Tabby knew being in a bathroom again gave her a kind of PTSD from what happened to her last night, that it slowed her roll. But she knew she had to get over it. She just had to. She went to Stuart.

He didn’t wrap her in his arms or feed her anyeverything will be alrightlines. He just stood there when she made her way up to him. “You’re good?” he asked her.

And that made her smile. Because he didn’t make more out of it than he needed to, and he didn’t try to minimize it either. He recognized that she had had a flashback, and that was all he needed to do. “I’m good,” she said. And they got into the tub.

And even after they got in his big tub, with her small body between the legs of his big body, and her back against his chest, it all felt so calming. So much so that they both became drowsy to the point of dozing off.

Tabby didn’t realize she had dozed off untilshe felt Stuart’s hand all over her body. He had bath himself: she could tell by the suds on his body. And now he was bathing her.

“Welcome back, sleepyhead,” he said as his soap-filled hand continued to bathe/massage her body.

“Did I fall completely asleep?”

“Completely girl,” he said, and she laughed. “But that’s a good thing. You were drained.”

“Yes I was,” she admitted. And she leaned back and enjoyed the way his hand massaged her.

“Downstairs you said you wanted to ask me a question.”

“I did. I do.”

When she didn’t go on, Stuart smiled. She was still groggy. “What’s your question, Tabby?”

“Oh right!” She sat upright. “Who’s Clare? Who’s Nora? And who’s Alan Jacobs?”

Stuart smiled. “I said you can ask a question, not three questions.”

But Tabby didn’t smile. This was too serious for her. Was one of those women his wife or girlfriend?

“Alan’s my son,” he said.

“Your son?” Tabby turned her head around to get a look at him. She didn’t even know he had a son. “They thought you tried to kill your own son?”

“That’s what they thought, yes.”

That made no sense to her. “But why? What would be the reason?”

Stuartwished it wasn’t a story he had to tell, but he knew it was. “A little over three weeks ago, my son, who worked for me as my chief financial officer, managed to successfully initiate a hostile takeover of my corporation. Do you know what that means?”

“It means he stole your company behind your back,” Tabby said.

Stuart laughed. “You know how to cut through the bullshit,” he said. “But yes. That’s exactly what it means.”

“Does he still have it?”