“And?”
Things were suddenly more complicated. They were having two different discussions. One about her relationship with his friend. Another where she was trying to convince Jacob to let her go back to her regular life. “About a year ago, Hawkeye was passing through Denver, and he stopped in the pub and ordered a whiskey, neat. I brought him the wrong brand. In the years since I’d seen him, he’d switched to something smoother and much more expensive. That’s when we caught up.”
Without responding, Jacob nodded.
Had her explanation satisfied him?
He tapped his fingers, as if contemplating how much to reveal. “Inamorata received a birthday card at her home, and there was white powder in it. Results have confirmed it was anthrax.”
A chill rocked through Elissa, and she wrapped her arms around herself to ward it off. “Is she… Someone tried to…” Oh no. Despite herself, the news unnerved her. “Is she okay?”
“Yes. She was immediately started on antibiotics as a precaution, and there are no ill effects. In fact, she was furious at herself for opening the envelope and refused to take any time off work.” He leveled a stare at her, and his eyes were icy enough to freeze her in place. “Whoever it is has already reached the upper levels of the company. We have no idea what kind of information he—or she—has access to.” He paused. “It could be someone who works for the company.”
For the first time, a tendril of doubt unfurled inside her. With determination, she tamped it down. No doubt the arrogant males surrounding her were overreacting. But were they?
“All of Hawkeye’s resources are focused on this.” His tone was as cold as it was detached.
“Jacob—”
“The sooner you accept reality and make yourself comfortable here, the easier this will be.” He leaned toward her and imprisoned her gaze. “You’re staying in protective custody until Hawkeye says otherwise. My decision is non-negotiable.”
Even though Jacob made polite conversation through the rest of breakfast, his harsh words continued to echo in her ears. How was she supposed to be comfortable out here in the middle of nowhere, alone with a stranger who’d kissed her and haunted her dreams?
“Elissa?”
Since he was looking at her quizzically, she shook her head to clear it.
“I asked if you were finished eating.”
“Yes. Thanks.” She nodded, then, when he pushed back his chair and stood, followed suit.
Together, they cleared the table, then straightened the kitchen.
“I’ll be in my office if you need anything.” He inclined his head before walking away.
Under normal circumstances, she might have enjoyed his polite, old-fashioned charms. But she already knew what lay beneath the polished exterior.
Once the sound of his footsteps had vanished and silence shrouded her, she walked to the window and stared into the distance. Just yesterday, there hadn’t been enough time to get everything done that she needed to. And now, the upcoming hours seemed to loom like an unpleasant specter.
Even more restless and uncertain than she had been before breakfast, she headed upstairs, quietly passing his office on the way to her bedroom.
She closed the door and then dialed her dad’s phone number.
As the call connected, she paced the confines of her temporary bedroom. When she’d first arrived, the space seemed large and luxurious. Now it was claustrophobic, the walls closing in on her.
“Elissa, love!”
At the welcome sound of his voice, an emotional lifeline like it had always been, she collapsed her shoulders against the wall.
“I know you’ve been texting, and Hawkeye’s been keeping us posted, but it’s good to hear from you.”
She fought for normalcy in order to reassure him. “How are things in Ireland?”
“We’re at the airport.”
“What? The airport?”
“Hawkeye chartered a plane for us. Can you imagine? We’re waiting for our flight now.”
The news shouldn’t have surprised her, but it did. “There’s no need to cut your trip short.” They needed the break. Deserved it. “This will all be over soon.” It had to be.
“It’s all arranged. Hawkeye’s having us picked up when we arrive at the Denver airport and assigning us a security agent.”
A chill shot up her spine. “What?”
“It’s out of an abundance of caution.”
She exhaled a worried sigh. This was all too much. And if Hawkeye were truly that concerned, wouldn’t her parents be safer if they were out of the country? “Dad. Seriously. Stay there.”
“Lovey, we insisted on it. Your mother wouldn’t be able to sleep otherwise.”
How had her entire life been so completely turned upside down?
“They’re fetching us to board the plane. We love you, Liss.”
They each said a quick goodbye, promised to talk again soon, and then she was left staring at a blank screen on her phone.
Still as restless as she had been, she dialed Joseph, who was covering for her.
“I’m already at the pub so Mary can update me on new procedures. Wanted to spend a couple of hours with her while I reorient.”
“Good idea.”
“Everything’s under control, and yes, I promise I’ll call if I need you.”
Talking to him made her feel as if she were doing something useful, even though she hadn’t been needed at all. Others seemed to be handling all the pieces of her life, which meant she had the time she needed to work on her graphic arts project.
After showering then dressing in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, she searched out Jacob. She knocked on the door where she’d previously found him, and when there was no answer, she called out his name and reached for the handle.
A red light on the wall next to the door blinked, and she noticed a small touchpad there. When she placed a fingertip against it, a buzzer blasted, the sharpness ricocheting around her and making her jump back.
More surprises.
She went downstairs and, when she didn’t find him, continued toward his wing of the house. “Jacob?”
“Back here!”
Near his bedroom, one of the doors stood ajar.
Still, before crossing the threshold, she knocked.
“Enter.”
When she did, he turned his chair toward her. His smile was inviting, sending another little tingle through her.
“I… Uh.” She tucked hair behind her ear. “I didn’t realize you had two offices.”
“The other is more for cameras. In an emergency, it doubles as a panic room.”
“Hence the door on it?”
“Actually you’ll find that type of lock in several places in the house. Anywhere I might require privacy.”
“The room you don’t want me to see?” Why had she blurted that out? “Unless you were joking about having one.”
“No. I assure you I wasn’t.”
Fear collided with excitement and turned her tummy upside down.
“And yes, it’s protected…with biometrics. Do you want to see it?”
“Absolutely not.” Yes. Desperately.
His grin was quick, evil. “So there’s something else I can do for you?”
He twitterpated her so much she had to shake her head to remember why she’d sought him out. “I need to do some work. So if the offer of using the garage apartment is still open, I’d like to take you up on it.” Having separate spaces was more important now than it had been an hour ago. After his teasing invitation, she’d never be able to think as long as they were under the same roof.
“I’ll walk you over.”
She hurried back to the living room ahead of him so their bodies didn’t come into close proximity. And then she followed him out the sliding glass patio door and across to the former barn.
The upstairs space blew her away. It wasn’t a tiny office—it was more like an artist’s studio, with wide-open spaces and massive windows that allowed
plenty of sunlight. The honey-colored wood floors were divine. There was a comfortable-looking couch, a daybed, and an anti-gravity gaming chair behind an L-shaped desk that offered her more workspace than she’d ever enjoyed before. “This is as big as my apartment.”
“You’re pleased?”
“It’s spectacular. Really. The views…” The windows were massive, and he’d been right about the natural light that filtered in.
“There’s an attached deck, through that door. Make yourself comfortable while I bring over the computer.”
After he left, she took his advice and explored her temporary work area. There was a small powder room and a tiny kitchenette, complete with a small refrigerator that was stocked with water bottles and splits of champagne. This apartment couldn’t be any more perfect for her.
Then she walked out onto the small deck. It was only big enough for a bistro set and a single Adirondack chair, but it overlooked the meadow and Saddle Mountain. It was a perfect place to escape with a cup of tea or an evening sip of bubbly.
Jacob returned with the box containing a sleek, space-agey titanium-encased tower. It was not just functional, but a work of art with the company’s famous curved lines.
Awed, she trailed her fingers down the side. “I’ve never seen anything this beautiful.”
“Not sure I have either. I’m told it’s next year’s Elite Pro model. And it’s been upgraded with an additional twenty thousand dollars’ worth of graphics cards.”
“I’m…” Speechless. This was the stuff of dreams. She couldn’t afford the base model, let alone the upgraded pro one. “Wow.”
“Apparently Bonds said that you’d appreciate something this…” He cleared his throat.
Elissa waited.
“Sensuous.”
Heat seared her cheeks. The mysterious Julien Bonds knew far too much about her. “He said that? Or are you making it up?”
“I assure you—sensuous is not a word I would have associated with a computer.” He tucked the unit beneath the desk. “The monitor is significantly bigger.”
“Do you need help?”
“You can hold the doors.”
A few minutes later, in the apartment, he opened the box. Even though he was a big, muscular man, the thing was massive.
“Bonds included these.” He handed her two smaller packages with her name on them, then read the enclosed note aloud. “Gadgets he thought you’d enjoy.”
“This is like Christmas.” Only better. She opened the first gift. “Oh my God. Drool-worthy.”
“What is it?”
“Pen tablet.”
“That means something to you?”
“I can draw free hand on the pad, and the image will appear on the screen. It’s a much better quality than the one I already have.”
“And the other thing?”
She tore open the gift and blinked. “It’s an editing console, which means I don’t need a mouse or keyboard to manipulate images.” With her right hand, she showed him the wheels and buttons. “For example, this one is for contrast. No clicking on anything separate.”
“Time saver?”
“Huge.” It was impossible to believe that Julien Bonds had put all of this together for her.
Jacob placed the monitor stand on the desk. “Want to give me a hand with the screen?”
He sliced through the cardboard with a pocketknife, and then she jiggled the foam packaging loose.
Once she caught a glimpse of the frameless monitor, she gasped. “I’ve only seen things like this in museum displays and when I’ve watched videos of the big electronics show.” It took both of them to secure it in place. “I’m just flabbergasted.” The screen was at least fifty-five inches. “It weighs a ton.”
“Sixty pounds or thereabouts.”
Within minutes, he had the entire thing put together and connected to the internet.
The Bonds logo winked into view in the middle of the see-through glass, and the crispness took her breath away. “This is unbelievable.”
“The tag says it displays over a billion colors.”
“That shouldn’t even be possible.” She wrapped her arms around herself. “I can’t believe I get to work on this.” But she was afraid she’d never want to give it up when she returned to her real life. Even monthly payments on this would be equal to a car. “I’ll leave you to enjoy your new toy.” After pointing out where panic buttons were located, Jacob programmed his phone number into her new cell phone. “As I stated earlier, there are agents on the property. I have one stationed at the gate, and two on perimeter patrol. However, you’re not likely to see them. Anything else?”
“I think this more than covers it. I couldn’t be happier. I mean, you know…”
“Given the situation?”
“I don’t want to sound ungrateful.”
“Being at a safe house is always an adjustment.”
And that was exactly what this was. “Thank you. Not for bringing me here, but for—”
He held up a hand. “Let’s leave it at thank you. And you’re welcome.” With a curt, dismissive nod, he excused himself.
She paced to the window and watched him until he closed the patio door behind him.
For the first half hour, she played with the computer, learning her way around before opening her design program, then clicking on the icon for her client’s collateral.
After making a few adjustments, she let her mind wander.
The new machine—combined with the surroundings—should have been enough to inspire her for weeks. Yet she couldn’t concentrate.
Elissa grabbed a bottle of water from the tiny refrigerator. A loud whinny captured her attention, and she paced to the window. Seconds later, Jacob rode into view on horseback, tall in the saddle, wearing a cowboy hat. Even though he was far away, there was no mistaking the rope attached to the saddle.
Again, unbidden, his soft threat from the night before teased the edges of her memory.
He continued on, and soon two other men galloped toward him. When they were close, each rider pulled up and formed a semicircle. Because she wanted a better view, she went out onto the deck.
The impromptu meeting lasted for at least ten minutes, and she watched every moment, shamelessly drinking in the masculine and commanding sight of him. If only they’d met under other circumstances…
At an easy canter, the party loped away, toward the open valley. Without looking back toward her, Jacob lifted a hand in a silent acknowledgment.
He’d been aware of her the whole time?
She uncapped her bottle. Of course he knew exactly where she was. No doubt he had some sort of cell phone app that was streaming images of every part of the property.
When they disappeared over a hill, she went back inside, leaving the door open.
This time, when she sat back down at her desk, she was inspired, but not to work on the project that was due at the end of the week. Instead, she accessed one of her private folders, containing the images that Julien Bonds had called kinky shit.
He might be right. No doubt plenty of people would agree.
To her, though, it was more, a pure and honest expression of sensual pleasure.
In college, she’d taken all the art classes that were offered. As part of her final grade, she’d had to display her work at a small avant-garde gallery in Denver. Her drawing of a nude caught the eye of a Dominant who had then commissioned her to paint a portrait of his submissive.
When she’d arrived at their house for the initial interview, the Dom had outlined his expectations. It needed to capture emotion. While most of Lydia’s body was to be bare, scarlet silk should cover her most private areas. He wanted to see just a hint of her nipples through the fabric—as if she were a precious gift to be unwrapped only by him.
And then he’d brought out heavy, thick silver chains.
Elissa had gasped at the sight. Until that moment, she’d known nothing about BDSM, and seeing the way Lydia glanced up at her Dominant
with a soft smile rocked Elissa, expanding her view of the world.
Then, he’d nodded, and Lydia sank to her knees.
Belatedly Elissa grabbed her phone and snapped a dozen pictures of the sub, capturing her expression of adoring, blissful surrender.
During the weeks they worked together, Elissa received an education about Dominance, submission, what BDSM was, and what it wasn’t.
The dynamic intrigued her enough to accept their invitation to attend an open house at a downtown Denver club and to eventually scene with a couple different Dominants.
Later, she’d entered that ill-fated relationship with Robby. It had taken months and endless conversations with other submissives to help Elissa realize that his need to manipulate her had nothing to do with actual Dominance.
For a while after that, she would only scene with one of the club’s owners. Once she regained her bearings and learned to trust her newfound intuition, she moved on to other partners.
Because of her father’s illness and the sheer number of hours she worked, Elissa hadn’t been to the club since last summer. She’d missed it terribly—not just the connection with another person, but the sublime transcendence that occurred when she surrendered to an honorable Dominant.
Shoving aside the restlessness churning inside her, she opened one of her completed files and critically studied the image.
According to Hawkeye, Julien had suggested she show some of her work. She hated to disagree with a renowned genius, but clearly she didn’t have enough talent. These images wouldn’t be good enough even if she painted them as actual portraits—maybe because each subject reflected some part of her own personality.
Dismissing Julien’s opinion as kind and nothing more, she minimized the image and opened one she’d been playing with for days.
In it, the submissive was kneeling back on her heels in front of a standing Dominant. Her head was bowed, and her dark hair fell over her face, shading her features. The backs of her hands rested lightly on her thighs. She wore a short gossamer gown, and a small collar circled her neck.
The man held a delicate chain, and he looked at his submissive with absolute adoration.
Hold On To Me (Hawkeye Book 4) Page 6