Jacob had made a great deal of money from a windfall sale of Markham Pharmaceutical stock at a very young age. He’d allegedly bought the stock just days before a breakthrough Markham medication for diabetes was given FDA approval. After approval went through, Jacob’s investment skyrocketed. Later, Clint Jefferies had become the target of an insider trading investigation because of that very deal in which Jacob had prospered so richly. Harper knew that the SEC usually went after the bigwig suspected of insider trading, not the little guy, like Jacob had been at the time. Was it true what Ruth had insinuated? That even though Jacob had made his first fortune from the Markham stock sale, he’d afterward washed his hands of the taint of Clint Jefferies, sacrificing the man who had supported him in his early career?
And why had Jefferies been so incredulous and disdainful about seeing Regina and Jacob together? More importantly, why did Jacob seem to hate his former mentor with a white-hot passion?
All those questions and many more besides circled around her head, mixing with her already potent anxieties about getting involved with a man as secretive and powerful as Jacob.
After the performance was finished, he took her hand and led her from the balcony even before the first curtain call. His driver was waiting.
The back of the limo was dark and painfully silent. His brooding mood oppressed her. He didn’t speak until they were only a few miles from his home.
“I’m sorry about all that,” he said quietly after a while, and she knew he referred to the Regina–Clint Jefferies spectacle.
“Is that all you’re going to say?”
He blinked and glanced over at her, his face enigmatic in the cloaking shadows.
“I’m just checking,” Harper continued. “Because if it is, you needn’t bother. I know you didn’t plan any of that.”
“Do you really want more t
han an apology?”
“Do you mean do I really want to know about yours and that woman’s relationship?”
He nodded once. She saw his eyes glitter through the shadows. His attention was fully on her now.
“I know she must be one of your old lovers,” Harper said, turning and staring blankly out the window. “I’m not that naïve, Jacob. I know there must be lots of them. So you ran into one of them tonight? It’s not that shocking. And this one”—she looked over at him—“you care more about than most.”
He remained completely still.
“You do care about her a lot, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
Her heart gave a little lurch and she stared back out the window.
“Is she an old lover? Or is she still one?” she asked, surprised at how calm she sounded.
“No. Not anymore. Harper, look at me.”
She turned her head.
“You’re the only woman I’m sleeping with.”
“How fortunate for me.”
A muscle jumped in his cheek. “Don’t.”
She inhaled shakily, ashamed of her flash of jealousy.
“You never promised me fidelity,” she breathed out. “You never promised me anything except a good time. An opportunity to forget my troubles.”
“That’s true. But I’m telling you that I have no immediate plans or interest in being with someone else. Doesn’t that mean anything?”
She took a moment to absorb what he was saying.
“Yes,” she admitted. “It does.” She tried to tease out his expression in the darkness, but the shadows prevailed. As always, he was a mystery to her. “You’re worried about her still, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”