She’d dreamed of Jake. Surely she’d meant Jake.
Surely she’d remembered me?
The thought both panicked and excited him. He didn’t know on what side of the ledge he existed anymore, only that he felt like he was constantly falling off it, free-falling into Harper’s sweetness.
He kissed her voraciously, using one hand to guide her strokes over his body, mounting their frenzy of need. From every direction, he felt pummeled. Maddened. Because even while he gave her what she needed, he couldn’t have said for himself what desire was sharper inside him: for her to remember or for her to forget, for her to acknowledge him for who he was, or for her to remain veiled, safe, and protected. Did he want her to recognize the vulnerable boy he’d buried long ago? Or did he want even more to continue drowning in the sweetness of her loving him for whom he’d become, forever ignorant of whom he’d been . . .
Forever blinded to what they’d meant to one another.
• • •
The morning dawned crystal clear and luminous out on the vast, blue expanse of Lake Tahoe.
After they’d made love on the top deck last night, Jacob and she had gone down to the bedroom and slept the rest of the night in each other’s arms. Harper awoke before Jacob, studying his face in repose for a moment in the light of dawn. Her chest grew tight when she recalled their emotional, charged . . . bewildering lovemaking last night beneath the stars.
She wasn’t sure what had happened. It all seemed so confusing: the dream, her uncontrollable eruption of feeling, his passionate, soulful response. What really bothered her was how she kept recalling that dream. His face was emerging from the shadows with startling clarity.
Jake.
Jacob had promised her an affair that was about forgetting, about staving off grief and loss. But strangely, she was remembering more.
Is this what it meant to really fall in love? she wondered numbly as she stole from his arms a moment later. Did it mean that you felt everything more clearly, the sad along with the amazing? Maybe so. She’d considered herself to be in love several times in the past, but that pale feeling had nothing to do with the vibrant, powerful emotions Jacob evoked in her.
She was making them breakfast with the eggs and a freshly baked loaf of bread that Lisa had packed for them in the hamper when he found her. She turned upon hearing his tread on the stairs, her heart in her throat.
He touched her almost immediately after he entered the galley, taking her into his arms and kissing her deeply. She was glad to realize that their newfound closeness and intimacy remained, despite her uncertainties and vague embarrassment about her emotional display last night. Maybe he sensed her uncommon shyness or some shared strain, and was determined to melt it. Knowing him, and his bullheaded determination to have nothing separate them physically, that was probably it. If so, it worked in spades, Harper realized dazedly a moment later when he lifted his head from their kiss, and she very reluctantly left his arms to finish making the eggs.
By some silent pact, neither of them spoke of what had happened last night under the stars. They spent a nice morning on the top deck basking in the bright sun. He read some files from his briefcase and Harper consumed a book Cyril had given to her about writing screenplays, her feet resting in his lap.
“Is it good?” Jacob asked a while later, nodding at the book she read, setting aside his file and grasping one of her feet instead, massaging the muscles deeply.
She sighed in pleasure and lowered the book. “It is. I’m excited to start writing.”
“Excited is good. Very good,” he murmured, his deep, mellow voice washing over her and prickling her nerves to life. “I have some of Cyril’s movies at the house. Do you want to watch a couple, when we get back?”
She nodded eagerly, warming as she saw that small smile she loved shaping his mouth before he picked up the report again. This time, even with his attention focused on his reading, he continued to massage her until she drifted off into a sun-warmed sleep.
• • •
They anchored the yacht at about two that afternoon. Harper was a little sad to leave the water and their temporary escape from the rest of the world. It’d been heaven being out there on the water, just the two of them.
When they returned to the mansion, Elizabeth stood at the top of the terrace, ready to greet them. So . . . Jacob’s faithful assistant had come back to his side. Harper wanted to ask Elizabeth about Regina Morrow’s well-being, but recognized it wasn’t her place. Harper could tell by the urgent, strained look Elizabeth gave Jacob even before they’d exchanged hellos that she wanted to confer with him privately.
“Why don’t you go up and shower and I’ll meet you upstairs in a minute?” Jacob asked Harper.
“Sure,” Harper replied, her smile assuring both Jacob and Elizabeth she was fine with that plan. In truth, she’d held on to a small hope that Jacob would tell Elizabeth that she could speak openly about Regina in front of Harper. That wasn’t the case, though, Harper acknowledged grimly as she went through the terrace doors. Apparently, there were still secrets regarding Regina that Jacob wasn’t ready for Harper to know.
But in all fairness, what Jacob had said in San Francisco in regard to Regina was true. Regina obviously had a lot of emotional and mental health issues. As a friend, Jacob couldn’t in good faith go around blabbing about her problems to someone like Harper, who was a stranger to Regina. But Jacob had also admitted Regina was a former lover, and that he cared for her deeply.
It’s only natural that the hush-hush, charg
ed aura surrounding Regina Morrow bothers me a little.
Maybe because of her conflicting thoughts, she was overly sensitive about reading Jacob’s mood when he joined her in his suite a while later. If he seemed a little subdued at first, his preoccupation passed quickly enough.
His attention was all for her.
He showed her for the first time how a wood-paneled wall in the sitting area of his bedroom opened to an entertainment center. They agreed to be lazy for the rest of the day, watching two of Cyril’s movies, talking . . . making love. They became so involved in the latter that they forgot dinner. When Harper’s stomach rumbled loudly at one point while they were entwined in bed, Jacob rose despite Harper’s protests. They ordered Thai food and ate it in bed naked. She thought it was the most delicious meal she’d ever eaten in her life.