Jacob wanted to tell Ana that her twin was a Cole, and that meant he’d grown up listening to his father, uncles and cousins discussing deals. If there was a gene for business acumen, if not all, then most of the Coles had inherited it.
“Jason will do all right without you there to hold his hand.”
A flush darkened Ana’s face. “It’s not like that, Jacob.”
“Isn’t it? Who has the final decision when it comes to Serenity?”
A beat passed. “I do, but that’s not to say I don’t involve Jason.”
“You involve him because you’re partners. Have you ever thought that maybe he doesn’t want to be involved? That he’s content being the creative and artistic end of the business?”
Ana chewed her lower lip as she shook her head. She recalled the times when she had to ask Jason something twice during an executive staff meeting. It was as if he’d been daydreaming. The first time she noticed it and called him out on it his excuse was that he’d been out late the night before and was practically falling asleep. The next time she knew he couldn’t use the same excuse because they’d had dinner with their parents and she’d slept over.
Her eyes narrowed as she gave Jacob a penetrating stare. “What are you saying?”
“What do you want me to tell you?” He’d answered her question with a question.
“Are you saying I shouldn’t involve Jason in the business component?”
“That has to be your decision, sweetheart.”
Ana ignored the endearment. “Maybe you’re right. My aunt Josephine’s grandson interned with us one summer, and he would be the perfect replacement for Jason.” Her expression brightened. “As soon as this madness is over I’ll talk to Jason about inviting Graham to join us.”
“Where is he now?”
“He’s working for ColeDiz.”
Jacob grimaced. “Won’t that cause a rift with Diego?”
“Not really. Diego knows Graham’s not happy working for ColeDiz. He constantly tells Diego he’s a composite of his twin cousins—equally comfortable with music and business.”
“You’re lucky, Ana, because you don’t have to go too far to look for a competent executive.”
She angled her head, appearing to be deep in thought. “I suppose you’re right. All I have to do is raid ColeDiz and endure Diego’s wrath for taking his people. His style is very different from his father’s. He hires only the best and pays them well to ensure their loyalty. I’ve heard he’s not easy to work with or for, but there’s one thing I can give him credit for.”
“What’s that?”
“He’s a risk-taker. He’s diversified ColeDiz, and he’s now a cotton broker. Diego paid cash on delivery to a Ugandan cotton grower, making it the biggest family-owned agribusiness in the States. Joseph is now involved in setting up a tea plantation in the South Carolina Lowcountry.”
“Where do you stand in all these business machinations?” Jacob asked Ana.
Her smooth brow furrowed. “I don’t follow you.”
“Have you thought about what’s going to happen if you decide to marry and start a family? Will you still be involved with Serenity, or will you take time off to raise your child or children?”
“Why shouldn’t I be able to balance marriage and motherhood?”
Jacob shook his head. “That’s not what I asked you. Do you intend to push out a baby, hand it over to a nanny, then put on your power suit and go into the office?”
Ana’s jaw dropped as she struggled to form her words, while not losing her temper. Closing her eyes, she counted slowly to five. “I wasn’t raised by a nanny and I’d never let someone else raise my children. My mother was a stay-at-home mom. She didn’t go back to work until all of us were in school, and that was part-time. When I woke up I saw my mother and when I went to bed her face was the last one I saw. So, please don’t imply that I’d neglect my babies.”
“Good for you. Unfortunately, that’s not the case with mothers who have to work.”
Her expression changed, a smile ruffling the corners of her mouth. Ana didn’t know what it was but whenever Jacob challenged her it got her to thinking. “You just gave me an idea.” His smile matched hers, her gaze fixed on his sexy mouth.
“What’s that?”
“If the building Jason’s buying is large enough, then we can set up an on-site child care center. It would save employees the cost of sending their children to daycare or sitters.”
“There you go,” Jacob said, smiling.
Going to tiptoe, Ana brushed her mouth over his. “Hanging out with you is good for me.”
Cradling her waist, he pulled her close. “Why?”
“You challenge me to think outside the box.”
Staring down at her through lowered lids, Jacob’s eyes caressed her face. “Is that good, Princess?”
Her lush lips parted in a smile. “Very good.”
“What you don’t realize is that you already think outside the box. It’s just that you need someone to bounce your ideas off of, and right now I happen to be that person.”
Ana sobered, wondering why Jacob was being so self-deprecating. “You’re wrong, Jacob. You are good for me.”
Jacob didn’t have a comeback. He may have been good for Ana, but he was struggling with the notion of her being good for him. She’d lived under his roof for twenty-four hours and during that time there was never a moment when she wasn’t in his thoughts. Even if he closed his eyes he could recall everything about her. He knew the exact timbre of her voice when annoyed. Then there was her smile: warm, inviting and incredibly sexy with a matched set of dimples.
Diego had mentioned about her being difficult. Jacob knew she was used to giving orders, not taking them, and it had taken Herculean self-control for her not to get in his face whenever he told her what to do. And he was more than aware that Ana had tempered her attitude because she was still traumatized. He respected her strength when he’d recalled some men who’d cracked completely, becoming babbling idiots when they saw someone shot down in front of them. Jacob wasn’t certain whether she was still in shock or in denial. Whatever it was she’d handled the situation better than he would’ve thought she would.
She claimed to have had a nightmare and that meant she had internalized everything. What he had to do was make life as normal and stress-free as possible. Jacob had called his aunt and uncle to let them know he was coming down and bringing a friend. His aunt told him she’d already rented the guesthouse, and that he would have to stay in a room in the main house. She’d also mentioned that if he was coming with a woman, then they would have to share the bedroom. It was the second high season in the Keys, so with the influx of Europeans, bargain-seekers and lobster divers rooms were scarce.
“You may change your mind when I tell you that we’re going to have to share a bed tomorrow. My aunt’s place is booked up with the exception of one bedroom suite.”
“Did you tell her you were bringing someone?”
“I told I was bringing a woman with me.”
“And what did she say?”
“She said she’s giving us the suite because then we won’t have to share a bathroom with the other guests.”
Ana wondered how many times he’d brought a woman with him while visiting his Key West relatives. “I guess it’s okay,” she said glibly. “I doubt if we’re going to spend that much time in bed, so let’s not sweat it.”
Either she was a consummate actress or Ana was truly indifferent whether they would sleep together or not. Jacob wanted to believe it was the latter, because he definitely wasn’t indifferent. There was something about her face and luscious petite body that had him harboring impure thoughts—thoughts that translated into making love to her.
He glanced at the clock on the microwave. “It’s time I start dinner.”
Ana affected a sexy moue. “I made a side dish of apple and fennel slaw.”
Grinning, he ruffled her hair. “Well, look at you. As soon as you learn t
o do laundry, then you’ll be ready to become the perfect housewife.”
She stuck her tongue out at him, while scrunching up her pert nose. “I still don’t do housework.”
“You don’t have to, sweetheart. That’s what cleaning services are for.”
“Are you saying if I learn to do laundry, then you’ll consider me marriage material?”
“No, I’m not. Even if you couldn’t boil water, wash dishes or pick up a sock you’d still make some man a wonderful wife.”
Resting her hands at her waist, Ana angled her head and stared up at him. “Thank you, Jacob. That’s quite a compliment coming from a confirmed bachelor.”
“I’ve never professed to be a confirmed bachelor. I haven’t married because I haven’t met the woman I’d want to spend the rest of my life with.”
“I have four single girlfriends I could introduce you to.”
Jacob wanted to shake Ana for being so obtuse. “No, thank you.” He wanted to tell her he didn’t have a problem meeting women. It was just that most of the women he’d been involved with bored the hell out of him and he could only take them in very small doses.
Ana lifted her shoulders. “Well, if you change your mind then let me know and I’ll hook you up.”
“Which part of ‘no, thank you’ don’t you understand, Ana? I don’t want or need your help in finding a woman.”
She glared at him. “Your neighbors are right. You are a grouch.”
That said, she walked out of the kitchen leaving him to stare at her back. There was no need for him to get so hostile because she’d offered to introduce him to her friends. Most men would’ve been jumping for joy. For them the more the merrier, but not Mr. Jones. She swore that it would be the first and last time she would ever broach the subject with him.
Chapter 7
Ana sat beside Jacob, staring at the passing landscape out the side window. The Keys were like another world. Despite her seeing a few mansionlike structures, the topography appeared virtually untouched, creating a primordial world with exotic plants and flowers, subtropical birds, mangroves and coral reefs. Something startled a flock of white herons when they rose majestically from their nesting site to take to the air. Boats, ranging from rowboats to luxury yachts dotted the waterways. Those sailing were either fishing or sunbathing, and a few were photographing the spectacular water views.
The excitement she’d expected to feel because she was going to see Key West for the first time wasn’t there, and it had everything to do with Jacob. Over dinner the night before he was practically monosyllabic and after they’d cleaned up the kitchen she’d gone upstairs to her bedroom and read for hours.
Thankfully she’d slept throughout the night, waking alert and rested. She made her bed, showered and dressed for the day. When she’d gone downstairs Jacob was nowhere in sight. The security system was still armed and Ana had assumed either he hadn’t gotten up or he’d gone out again. She doubted the latter because there was no note tacked to the corkboard.
Not waiting for him, she made fresh squeezed orange juice, diced pineapple, mango, papaya and white grapes for a fruit salad. The aroma of brewing coffee had filled the kitchen when he walked in wearing a Hawaiian-print shirt, faded relaxed jeans and running shoes. He looked different and it wasn’t until he sat down at the table across from her that she realized he hadn’t shaved. The stubble on his lean jaw enhanced his overt masculinity, but she wasn’t about to tell him that.
He’d thanked her when she’d placed a dish of fruit at his place setting. They ate in silence and as she cleared the table to stack the dishwasher he’d announced they would be leaving in less than an hour, so she should pack what she wanted to take with her.
His neighbors were right. Not only Jacob was grouchy, but he was also moody.
Jacob stared through the windshield when he’d wanted to take furtive glances at Ana. Her face framed by a profusion of brownish-gold curls made her look like a fragile doll.
He smiled despite his lingering annoyance that she’d offered to hook him up with one of her girlfriends. Attracting a woman had never been a problem for him. Finding one for other than sex proved a bit more challenging, and now that he was getting older sex didn’t top his priority list when it came to women. Jacob wanted and needed someone he could talk to after the lovemaking ended. He hadn’t lied to his mother when he told her he had yet to meet the right woman. Some he’d dealt with were either too immature, while others were much too needy. Nothing grated on his nerves more than a whining, needy woman.
Early in his career with the marshal service he’d believed he’d met the woman. Jacob had seriously considered proposing marriage, but she’d ruined everything when she’d begun to complain that she didn’t get to see him enough. When he’d tried explaining to her that when assigned to the Violent Crime Fugitive Task Force he didn’t know when he’d be called away, Delia morphed into someone he hadn’t recognized. Her accusations that he was cheating on her escalated into uncontrollable shouting matches. Jacob knew he had to end their relationship, knowing he wouldn’t be able to cope with a jealous girlfriend and remain focused.
“What do you want to do tonight?”
Ana turned to look at Jacob. “Hallelujah! He speaks,” she spat out sarcastically.
A hint of a smile flitted across his mouth. “Don’t push it, Princess.”
“What do you expect me to say? You barely grunt at me, and now you’re asking me what I’d like to do.”
He smiled, giving her a quick glance. “I’m sorry for being a grouch.”
A beat passed before Ana said, “Apology accepted.”
“Thank you, Princess. I’ll ask you again. What would you like to do?”
“Can we stop to see the Hemingway museum?”
Jacob nodded. “That can be arranged. What else?”
“I’d like to eat at Jimmy Buffet’s Margaritaville Café.”
“That’s also doable. Anything else?”
“I suppose we can visit some of the more popular bars and clubs.”
Jacob’s straight white teeth were a startling contrast to his brown complexion when he laughed. “Now you’re talking.”
Ana removed her sunglasses. “How long do you plan to stay?”
He met her eyes. “As long as you want.”
She placed her hand over his when he gripped the steering wheel. “I’d like to take a tour and do some shopping.”
Reversing their hands, Jacob cradled her much smaller hand, giving it a gentle squeeze before kissing her fingers. “That’s going to take at least three or four days. Are you certain you don’t have anything pending on your calendar?”
This was the Jacob she liked—smiling and teasing. “Very certain.”
“Good. I suppose this means we’re free to go and do anything we want.”
Ana closed her eyes. “I wish I could turn back the clock to when I was sixteen and planned to live the bohemian life in Key West. Even though Daddy cut short my dream I still felt freer than I do now.” She opened her eyes to find Jacob staring at her with a strange expression on his handsome face.
“This too shall pass,” Jacob said in a quiet voice. He wanted to tell Ana she had to be patient, because eventually the shooter was going to make a mistake. Most criminals did. “You still could live a bohemian lifestyle. The first thing you’ll have to do is move out of your luxury condo, buy a loft and decorate it with vintage posters of singers and musicians dating from the 40s to the 80s. Of course, you’ll set up a salon with a gathering of writers, musicians, political dissents and deadbeat intellectuals.”
Ana laughed softly. “Why stop at the 80s?”
“Disco, baby. Most contemporary pop music is an amalgamation of prior decades. R&B vocal groups like Jagged Edge and Boyz II Men and a few of the others are nothing more than a throwback to doo-wop with emotional ballads and a cappella harmonies.”
“What about rap and hip-hop?”
“I found early rap rather primitive with all the sam
pling. Thankfully it has evolved where it’s now much more sophisticated. As for hip-hop, I’ve always liked it.”
“Who’re your favorite R&B singers?” she asked.
Jacob angled his head. “It has to be Anthony Hamilton. He’s probably more blues than R&B.”
“Who else do you like?”
“Maxwell, but unfortunately I have to wait years for him to put out a new album.”
Ana and Jacob spent the next quarter of an hour discussing musical genres until she eased her hand from his, put on her glasses and returned her attention to staring out at the landscape. Traffic was heavier than usual for that time of morning, but he was in no hurry to reach their destination, estimating it would about take nearly forty minutes to make the fifty-five mile drive from the Long Key Channel to Key West. After all, he had nothing but time on his hands and it was the same with Ana.
Tapping a button on the steering wheel, he tuned the radio to a satellite station featuring songs from the early 2000s. The voices of Destiny’s Child singing “Say My Name” came through the speakers located throughout the SUV.
Ana and Jacob shared a smile when they sang along with the girl group. He felt a chill eddy its way down his back when Ana sang Faith Hill’s “Breathe.” She had a rich wonderful alto singing voice. It was his turn to showcase his singing talent with the “Thong Song.”
Ana gave him an incredulous look. “I can’t believe you know every word.”
“That’s because I have it in the jukebox.”
“I suppose you know the number, too.”
Jacob winked at her. “Damn straight. In fact, I know most of the numbers to my favorites. All of the CDs are grouped by genre—blues, R&B, classical, jazz, Latin, country, pop, rap and hip-hop, show tunes and movie soundtracks.”
He tapped another button, lowering the volume, and told Ana that his father and uncles had formed a band when they were in their teens, playing at weddings and small local clubs whenever they needed a backup band. They told anyone who wanted to sign them that they were twenty-one and twenty-three so they could play in bars and clubs. He’d grown up listening to their jam sessions and the one time he’d sat in playing guitar was a night he would remember forever.
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