“And?”
“And what?”
“Did she insinuate that my success was suspect? She mentioned the insider trading scandal, didn’t she?”
“Yes,” Harper replied honestly.
“Did she ask you to dig for a story about me?”
She set down her fork with a clinking sound. “In fact, she did.” His face turned to stone. “Is that really relevant? Did you see a story on you at the Gazette about anything I’ve learned about you since we’ve been together—which, trust me—isn’t much,” she added succinctly with a glare. “Why are you so edgy all of a sudden?”
“Am I?”
“You know you are,” she muttered, taking a bite of salad and then pushing back her plate in mounting frustration.
For a few seconds, he didn’t speak.
“I’m sorry,” he said after a moment. Her gaze jumped to his face. He still looked tense, but also irritated. At himself, she thought. His apology had been genuine. “It’s not pleasant for me. To consider you hearing speculation and gossip about my past.”
She exhaled slowly, some of her frustration going with her breath.
“You are very secretive, Jacob. You’re very closed off. I’m not telling you anything you don’t know already. People are bound to gossip, given all that. Nature abhors a vacuum, isn’t that what they say?” she asked quietly. “That doesn’t equate to being dishonest or a criminal.”
“You believe that I’m above reproach?”
“Maybe I just want to believe it,” she replied sincerely. She couldn’t decode what she read in his eyes at that moment. “I do believe that the fact that you are so shut off and suspicious of people’s intentions only amplifies the rumors about you. Your aloofness only fans the flames.”
“Maybe I should hire you for public relations. You could clean up my murky public image,” he said, a mirthless smile tickling his handsome mouth.
“Would you actually want that?” she asked archly, taking a sip of wine, thankful the tense moment had passed. “Why does it matter if people backbite about you? Why do you care?”
“I don’t, usually,” he said very quietly. He seemed to hesitate. “In your case, it matters.”
Her mouth fell open. It was a strange compliment. He’d just told her he cared about what she thought of him. What confused her was the hard slant of his mouth when he’d said it.
He may care, but he wasn’t pleased about it.
• • •
Jacob seemed intent on making sure she had a nice evening following that tense, bewildering exchange at dinner, as if he was determined to make up for his flash of irritation and edginess. His attentiveness and warmth were very much appreciated by Harper, but they weren’t necessary to improve her mood. Instead of ruining the evening, their exchange at dinner had somehow made her feel closer to him. She’d learned they had something elemental in common.
So . . . he was ambivalent about caring about her? She couldn’t fault him for that. She was just as prickly and unsure about her strong feelings for him.
• • •
The opera was La Bohème, which she enjoyed very much from their prime seats in the first row of the lowest balcony. She was highly aware of the man beside her: his thigh brushing lightly against her own, his handsome, stark profile as he stared at the stage, the subtle hint of his woodsy, spicy cologne. His presence and his nearness seemed to amplify her sensual appreciation of the production. During the touching second aria between Mimì and Rodolfo, she glanced over at him, only to find his gaze already on her face. There was something in his eyes . . .
She felt something expand in her chest. More powerfully than she ever had before, she sensed his sharp hunger. She couldn’t understand it, but there it was in front of her, impossible to ignore, difficult to deny, even given his doubts. His hand enclosed hers. The tension in her chest broke. She gasped softly and stared at the stage and the romance unfolding there . . . a love story that was destined to end in tragedy.
In the past, she’d occasionally had strong emotional reactions to music, but she’d never experienced this level of feeling during a performance. Of course . . . she’d never sat next to the likes of Jacob Latimer during a production, either.
Embarrassed by her strange uprising of sharp emotion, she immediately made an excuse to go to the bathroom when they reached the lobby during intermission. Jacob touched her shoulder when she turned away.
“Is anything wrong?” he asked her, his brows slanted in concern.
“No, I’m fine,” she assured with a bright smile. “I should have warned you. Music makes me a little emotional sometimes. Sorry. It’s embarrassing, to get swept up into the drama so easily,” she said, rolling her eyes.
His hand tightened on her shoulder and she reluctantly met his gaze, despite her burning eyes.