Make Me Forget - Page 91

“What?” he asked hoarsely, startled.

“Your eyes.”

He grimaced in disbelief. “They’re like that river down there. Muddy brown-green.”

“Maybe your mirror at home is dirty. There’s gold in them, and flecks of green and brown. And they’re as clear as a clean stream.”

He felt his body hardening, which horrified him. If they didn’t do this now, she was going to notice.

“We’re going to jump out from the cliff as far as we can and fall with our feet straight down. Do you understand? Harper?” he asked when she didn’t respond for a moment, still staring fixedly at him. She blinked. “Don’t hesitate on your jump, or we might fall too close to the cliff. That’s dangerous. You gotta jump, all or nothing. Fall feetfirst, straight into the water. Got it?”

“Jump as far as out from the cliff as I can. Feet straight in the water,” she repeated.

“Okay. On the count of three,” he said loudly.

She pressed even closer to him, so that he swore he could feel her heart frantically beating into his chest. His own started to hammer in tandem with it.

“One, two—

“Don’t let me go.”

“I won’t let go,” he vowed, clutching her to him for all he was worth. “Three.”

They leapt in together. The earth fell away. His stomach dropped seemingly faster than his body. Harper gave a muted squeal. He kept his eyes open as they free-fell, gauging how far they were from the cliff face. He had a fleeting impression of her copper-colored, streaming hair, clamped eyelids, and pale face. Just before they hit the surface of the water,

she opened her eyes.

The image seemed to burn into his brain. He saw it even as they plunged into the New River and his eyelids sealed shut as water jetted around them.

He saw it still, twenty years later: Harper’s gaze glued to him with a fierce, desperate trust.

twenty-two

Present Day

Being more familiar with San Francisco in comparison to Tahoe, she thought she knew what to expect as far as a Sea Cliff mansion. She’d dated a ridiculously narcissistic hedge fund investor for a short period—a very short time—whom had lived in Sea Cliff. Over the years, she’d also attended a handful of cocktail and dinner parties in the affluent San Francisco neighborhood.

Of course, none of that actually prepared her for Jacob’s home. It was located on the farthest point of a promontory where it sat in solitary grandeur, commanding a breathtaking view of the Pacific Ocean. It was entirely made of white limestone, its stark silhouette creating a striking contrast to the dark cliffs and the periwinkle blue of the Pacific Ocean. While his Tahoe compound was warm, rustic sophistication, the Sea Cliff home was cool, sleek grandeur. They were greeted at the front door by a short, stocky woman in her forties who seemed to brim over with a sense of enthusiastic purpose, and an older, attractive woman who struck Harper as elegant, cautious, and sedate.

“Harper McFadden, I’d like you to meet Jenny Caravallo, my admin here in San Francisco, and Marianne Holstein, my house manager,” Jacob introduced briskly as they entered a white dome-ceilinged entry hall and the chauffer bustled around them with their luggage.

Both women greeted them warmly. Jenny’s energy couldn’t be contained in polite greetings for long, though. She almost immediately launched into the latest happenings with the ResourceSoft acquisition difficulties. Jacob put up a hand, and she halted midsentence.

“Excuse me. Marianne? Would you show Harper to my suite? We have a dinner reservation in . . .” He looked at his watch and scowled. “A little over an hour.”

“Of course. Follow me,” Marianne said to Harper with a smile.

Harper glanced back at Jacob. He was listening to Jenny, but he looked up and met her stare, a trace of annoyance and apology in his eyes. Harper smiled her assurance. She’d been expecting him to be bombarded with work once he crossed the threshold. He’d asked her to San Francisco because of a work complication, after all.

Marianne led her to stunning quarters decorated almost exclusively in whites, grays, and cool blues that matched the jaw-dropping view of the sky and the ocean outside the floor-to-ceiling windows. The housekeeper gave her a tour of the enormous suite.

“That’s Mr. Latimer’s bathroom over there, and the guest facilities are right in here,” Marianne was saying. Harper yanked her gaze off the spectacular view and followed the house manager into a luxurious bathroom. So, Jacob bathed separately from his “guests” here at Sea Cliff.

“Yes, it looks as if Charles has set your bags in here already,” Marianne said pleasantly, pointing at an open door that led to what appeared to be an attached dressing room and closet with mirrors. Harper saw her suitcase and carryall near the door.

“It looks as if I’m all set, then,” she said warmly to Marianne.

Marianne left with an insistence that Harper call on one of the house phones if she should need anything. Harper sighed when the older woman closed the double doors behind her. She glanced uneasily at the guest facilities, acknowledging to herself that the existence of that bathroom was the reason for her sudden disquietude. For some reason, that room—a stupid room—underlined Jacob’s typical aloofness with women . . . his determination to keep his personal life ultimately separate from his sexual one.

Tags: Beth Kery Erotic
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