Dr. Fielding had certainly alluded to the fact that there was a possibility she’d remember. He—Jacob—could be the very trigger that was prompting her memories.
But that’s only true if you assume what Dr. Fielding says is true, the logical part of his brain reasserted itself. Did he believe that he’d successfully buried weak, ineffective Jake Tharp and had evolved into an independent, utterly self-reliant man? Yes, he did.
Or at least he had . . . until Harper had walked back into his life.
There was no telling what Harper would do with those volatile memories. How much did she remember, and when, exactly had she begun to recall?
Or had she remembered all along, and knowingly reinserted herself into his life in order to get an inside position for this story?
Most of him thought that idea was paranoid and ridiculous. The tiny remainder that doubted only added a small, but rich vein of fuel to his unrest.
Something told him everything was about to blow up in face: his carefully buried past, his present, hard-won identity as Jacob Latimer . . . this incredible, dangerous thing he’d started with Harper.
He’d been wrong to think he could handle getting involved with her. The only chance he had of keeping them both safe was to convince her that the only future they had together was to leave the past where it belonged. If he couldn’t accomplish that . . . he needed to seriously consider the fact that he was a harmful agent to her life.
It was time to seriously consider the bleak possibility that he might have to cut all ties with the only woman he’d ever loved . . .
. . . With the only woman he strongly suspected he’d ever be able to love.
• • •
Harper felt like she was watching herself from a distance that evening when she packed up and left the Gazette’s offices with the intent of returning to Jacob’s home.
Elizabeth had gone through the protocol with her that morning on how to enter and exit the Lattice compound. Clarence, the stocky, friendly security guard who had spoken to Jacob from the woods on the first night she’d come to the mansion, was called in to enter Harper’s fingerprints and record her speaking into a voice recognition system.
Upon Jacob’s orders, Elizabeth had also instructed Jim to drive Harper to work that morning and pick her up again in the evening. When Jim picked her up after work, he started to take her directly to the mansion, but Harper stopped him.
“Can you take me back to my townhome, please?” she asked.
Jim glanced back uneasily. “But Elizabeth said I was supposed to take you back to Mr. Latimer’s.”
“I just need to pick up a few things at my place first,” Harper told him. “And my car. I don’t want to have to bother you about running me around.”
“But I’d be happy to take you wherever—”
“I know, Jim,” she assured, smiling at him when he looked at her anxiously in the rearview mirror. “But I’d prefer to have my car there, just in case. I’m pretty used to getting around on my own, you know.”
She recognized that her insistence upon having her own vehicle at Jacob’s compound was her small way of asserting her independence. Her car was a tangible means to come and go as she pleased. Today’s meeting with Burt had stunned her. It was always hard for her to get a good perspective on Jacob, but after that meeting with Burt, everything had gotten worse. She got downright dizzy every time she tried to focus on what Jacob’s guardedness meant . . .
. . . When she tried to puzzle out who Jacob was.
What Burt had uncovered about Regina Morrow was shocking, but at least it made some sense, given the little Jacob had told her about Clint Jefferies taking advantage of Regina and hurting her. If Burt was correct in his suspicion about the nature of that party at Jefferies’s, didn’t that mean Regina had been a prostitute? How had Jacob known her? And had he been in love with Regina Morrow at the time he’d found her intoxicated and bruised up at his mentor’s party?
It felt disorienting, entering the mansion that evening with no one there to greet her. In fact, a strange, surreal quality had settled on her consciousness ever since she’d seen those typed words on that report this morning.
West Virginia.
She had so many questions to ask Jacob, but knew she couldn’t. She felt blocked at every turn. For one, she couldn’t reveal that she’d been consulting with one of her reporters today in regard to a story about him. He’d think she’d betrayed him. Two, he’d made it very clear that his past was off-limits in their personal relationship.
She’d spoken with him briefly on the phone earlier at work, and he’d told her where to find him when she returned to the mansion. She traveled through the enormous house like a sleepwalker, passing the familiar entrance to Jacob’s bedroom suite and continuing down the hall. She rapped softly on a pinewood door.
“Come in,” Elizabeth called.
Harper entered. Elizabeth’s portion of the office was large and airy. She had her own spectacular view of the lake and pine-covered mountains. Jacob’s assistant sat behind her desk, her demeanor striking Harper as contained, but tense. Harper suspected it was her own presence in Jacob’s private offices that made Elizabeth that way. Elizabeth continued to be polite and highly efficient in regard to Harper, but Harper still sensed her caution and a hint of disapproval.
“Hi,” Harper greeted her.
“Hello,” Elizabeth said, standing and coming around her desk. “He’s waiting for you.”