“We all feel the need to hide away at times in our life. To forget the past. Surely you can understand that,” she said softly as their amusement faded.
Her heart thumped very loud in her ears for a suspended moment when he didn’t immediately reply. She was so sure she’d made another misstep, saying something so personal to such an aloof, private man.
“Where’s Charger?” she asked, referring to his energetic dog in a desperate attempt to change the subject when he continued not to speak.
“In the house.”
“Oh.”
He glanced away distractedly. An awkward silence ensued. Like she had on the beach, she had the impression he’d discounted her or lost interest. She started to set down her cider, assuming their conversation was coming to an end.
“Do you want to go see him and some of my other dogs?” he asked suddenly.
“You have several?”
He nodded, his expression completely sober.
“Uh . . . sure,” she said, taken off guard. But again, she was curious. Fascinated, in truth.
He nodded and stood smoothly, putting out a hand to help her stand. He headed toward the glass doors. She followed his tall form, feeling a little dazed. She understood how people could find him intimidating. He could be glacial. Impenetrable. Then she’d catch a glimpse of his warmth. His humanity. Raw sexuality
twined with something she could only call a sweetness, impossible as that descriptor seemed given the rest of the package. It was the mystery of that paradox that had her tantalized. But she’d have to be careful.
A person could get dizzy and disoriented—maybe even lost—trying to figure out the puzzle of Jacob Latimer.
three
He led her through the empty great room back in the direction from which she’d entered the house. When he opened one of the large pine doors, she saw darkness had fallen in the opposite direction from the lake and setting sun.
“How many dogs to you have?” she asked in a hushed tone as she followed his silent, graceful shadow down the front steps. The winding sidewalk ahead was illuminated by lanterns, but the black night sky, towering pines, and landscaped greenery surrounding them seemed to suck up their meager light.
“Sixteen,” he replied.
“What?”
“I know,” he said, and much to her amazement, he sounded a little sheepish. “It seems like a lot, but I like dogs.”
“Apparently,” she said under her breath, smiling. Well, the extremely rich do have their quirks, don’t they?
“Clarence,” she heard Latimer say quietly.
“Mr. Latimer. Nice night, isn’t it?”
Harper let out a stupid little cry at the disembodied, gruff voice that came out of the dark woods to the right of her. She stumbled in her heels. Two hands grasped her shoulders, steadying her.
“Whoa. You okay?” It was Latimer’s mellow voice.
“Yeah, but—” She glanced over to where the unexpected voice had come from. A bulky man in his forties with a crew cut stepped out of the trees and into the dim light.
“It’s just Clarence. He works here,” Latimer explained.
Harper looked around, startled. Latimer had sounded close. She realized the tips of her breasts were pressed against the lapels of his jacket. He towered over her. His face was shadowed, but she made out his gaze fixed on her upturned face. She could feel the metal of his belt buckle against her belly. And the fullness beneath it.
It happened in the amount of time it takes electricity to travel. Her blood became the current, turning into the equivalent of jet fuel. It seemed to roar through her veins, sparking her flesh to life. She felt his cock stir against her. His nostrils flared slightly as he stared down at her.
“Sorry for startling you, miss.”
Harper blinked at the sound of Clarence’s rough voice behind her. She stepped back, breaking contact with Latimer. The electrical connection didn’t seem to cut off entirely, though. Her skin still tingled. Her sex felt warm, heavy, and tight, like a pleasant ache.