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“Sounds reasonable to me.” The covert nature of their trip was appealing for practical reasons, but misbehaving was its own temptation. She was always the good girl, always did what was expected of her. For once she could deviate from plan, even if her confidence about it wavered. She didn’t like deceiving anyone, especially not her family.
That didn’t change the fact that she had to get Adam’s attention and shake him out of the mindset that she wasn’t ready to take over as CEO. Jacob had become her very unlikely ticket to doing that. She had to wonder if money was Jacob’s only motivation, or if he thought this deal might show Adam that he’d made a mistake by ending their working relationship. He certainly seemed focused on the business aspect. Telling her to bring her bathing suit was probably a slip or Jacob being a good host. It was hard to imagine it was anything else.
There was a big part of her, however, that wished there was something else. She never did well with the idea of possibilities left unexplored. The night she kissed Jacob, she’d already spent many nights imagining what came next, of what it would be like to have his hands all over her, to share the same bed with him. When he’d cut it short, she couldn’t help but feel as though she’d been robbed of something. That was difficult to let go.
She glanced over at Jacob as he fiddled with the satellite radio while navigating the snarl of traffic leaving the city. His profile was endlessly enthralling. She could’ve sat there and studied his strong, dark brows or his uncannily straight nose for hours. That would only lead to the examination of his perfect lips, the way his angular jaw was accentuated by his well-groomed scruff. It would be so nice to trail her finger along the line from his ear to his chin, kiss him again and see if he wanted to explore their unfinished business.
But what if he’d only used Adam as an excuse, a means of covering up the fact that he hadn’t wanted to kiss her at all? If she tried anything a second time, he might be honest with her. That would be brutal.
He turned and narrowed his focus on her for an instant, making her heart leap into her throat. “Everything okay?”
She nodded, swallowing back a sigh. “Oh, sure. I was just wondering how long the drive is.”
He looked back over his shoulder and sped up, changing lanes like a man who wasn’t about to let anyone get in his way. The scent of his cologne wafted to her nose, making her lose her bearings. “Five hours. Four and a half if I can get out of traffic.” He reached across and patted her on the leg, the width of his palm and fingers spanning her thigh. “Sit back and enjoy the ride.”
She stared down at her lap, the place where he’d left an invisible scorching-hot handprint. Five hours? Alone in a car with Jacob? She’d be on fire by the time they got there.
Four
In the years since he’d graduated from Harvard Business School, the only time Jacob had mixed business and pleasure was right now—taking Anna away for the weekend. Time alone in the car with her had quickly illustrated that being with her made things muddy, messy. Nothing was clear-cut and that made him nervous. Considering the game he was playing with LangTel stock, getting close to Anna was dangerous. It wasn’t just playing with fire. It was tantamount to walking a tightrope over an active volcano.
But the fire was so tempting—her sweet smell, the way she pulled out her ponytail and redid it when she was thinking about something. He’d struggled to keep his eyes on the road. The deep blue turtleneck she wore was maddening. His brain wouldn’t stop fixating on trying to remember the exact arrangement of freckles on her chest. And then there were the jeans. Sure, he’d held the car door to be a gentleman, but he’d committed every curve to memory, frame by frame, as she’d climbed inside his car.
Finally at their destination, he turned from the main road and stopped between the pair of towering stone pillars flanking the entrance to his estate. Cool autumn air rushed in when he rolled down the window to punch in the security code. Silently, the wrought iron gate rolled aside, granting entry into his retreat, a world that intentionally bore no resemblance to the one they’d left behind in Manhattan. The fall leaves blazed with a riot of brilliant orange and rust and gold. The trees rustled with a stiff breeze, leaves breaking free from their branches, some landing on the hood and windshield, the rest drifting until they came to rest on the white crushed-stone driveway.
The massive house stood sentry at the head of a circular parking area.
