by Lyz Kelley
Chapter Ten
Rachelle awoke to a sky illuminated with sunrise pinks and burning, bright oranges and purples. The colors crisscrossed the bank of bedroom windows, which looked out over the mountain ridge. She loved lying in this bed, watching the finches fly from one spruce tree to another.
She waited for the squirrel to hop along the deck railing toward his feeder, then remembered it was no longer there.
This wasn’t her home. This wasn’t her room. This wasn’t her life.
She tossed back the bedding and climbed out of bed, grabbing her hairband to bundle her hair up on top of her head.
She needed to get Jacob on his way so she could get back to looking for long-term work. If she only did one room at a time, then maybe when she found work, she could turn the project over to someone else.
That’s what she would do.
First, she needed to get two more storyboard sequences done, and then she’d be free again.
She shoved her feet into a pair of wool socks and made her way to the kitchen to find Dempsey.
She was halfway down the stairs, when he found her.
“There you are. Want some breakfast?”
With a snort and a turn, he trotted off to wait by his newly acquired dinner plate.
She opened the pantry door, then paused while her mind reset.
“Right. Not my home.” She backed out and shut the door before turning to the island and the stack of cans. I’ve got to get out of here.
Her gut tightened, but she set the unsettled feeling aside and spooned the brown, wet clumps on the plate. “This stuff smells disgusting. Sit.”
Dempsey waited while she lowered the plate. “Good boy.” She patted him on the head, but he ignored her again and dug into his grub. If only she could be so singularly focused.
She lifted the can to read the label and occupy her mind. “Combines two popular flavors that will leave the dog’s tail wagging all day.”
“Right. My dog doesn’t have a tail.”
She reached in the drawer for some tinfoil and came up with sandwich bags. “I guess this will do.”
She shoved the plastic over the top of the can, sealed it, and stashed it in the refrigerator.
“I definitely need to get out of here.” She slid the kitchen chair back, grabbed a sketching pencil, and got to work, ignoring her caffeine-depleted headache.
Minutes ticked by while she drew and discarded, then started again, until an idea clicked.
“That’s perfect.”
Her hand jerked, but she picked up the pencil just in time to save the outline of a character who looked like a cross between Lara Croft and the Norse goddess Frigga, Odin’s wife...or her versions anyway.
“I didn’t hear you come down.”
“You must not have heard me talking to Dempsey either, then.”
“I didn’t.” She picked up her eraser. “Anything you want changed?”
“Nope. I love your work.” He pointed at the warrior’s armor. “I love the Celtic design here.”
“It’s actually Norse influence,” she corrected, then automatically flinched, wondering if there would be a backlash, then chastised herself for reacting.
Jacob wouldn’t hurt her. He created a cozy, comfortable ambiance. She loved how he respected her space, yet remained snugly on the fringe, within easy reach. But she didn’t want to indulge in his hospitality.
He set a cup of coffee by her elbow, and the soothing aroma of almonds wafted around her. Correct that. Not all aspects of his hospitality.
He reached across the table to tap his computer to boot, then scratched his chin, his eyes barely open. “I can’t wait for you to show your stuff to the design team.”
“Me?” Her voice scaled up an octave. “Isn’t your team in California?”
“They are. I thought we could fly out for the meeting tomorrow, and then you could stick around, meet the team and attend the charity lunch.”
He couldn’t be serious. She turned in her chair to look up at him. He was serious. “You want me to go with you…to California.”
“It will be fun.”
Fun? Getting on an airplane with some guy she just met, to go to a business meeting with people she didn’t know, then meet with the creative team...who might or might not like her work. That didn’t sound like fun. It sounded scary.
“What’s wrong?” He tucked a strand of hair that had fallen in her face behind her ear.
Could she tell him? No…it was way too revealing. “I…uh…I need to work on your room designs. Your house is half furnished. You can’t live in this chaotic mess.” She grabbed hold of the excuse like it was a lifeline.
“You don't want to come with me?”
“You’ll do fine.” She held her breath, hoping her act was convincing.
He leaned and picked up her hand, rubbing a thumb over her wrist. “I’d like you to be there. The reason I’m able to do the presentation at all is because you were willing to work on the designs. The rest of the team came up empty, or regurgitated what we’ve already done.
“I don’t want to be sued for copyright infringement after selling my game. Your images help me see a different story. Plus, you’re the one who came up with the challenge level details. I’ve just incorporated the details into the storyboards.”
Rachelle tried again to stomp out the fear growing inside. Jacob had given her no reason to fear he was anything other than an even-tempered man. Then again, anything could happen to spin calm out of control. Being at someone else’s mercy terrified her.
“I can see you’re uncomfortable.” He dropped her hand to retrieve his phone. “I don’t want to present without you there. I’ll cancel the meeting.”
He scrolled to dial, but she reached out a hand. “Wait.”
He studied her face, but remained silent.
“I’ll go.” The acceptance tumbled out all smashed together, as if she’d change her mind if she had any time to think.
“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to put you into an uncomfortable position.”
She shoved her pencil into her bun. He could see her vulnerabilities, and she hated being exposed that way. She would never have shown weakness in her father’s presence, but Jacob was different. He disarmed her. Allowed her to get comfortable. Somehow permitted her to be flawed.
“I’m okay.”
He raised her hand to his warm lips, placing them on her wrist. When his tongue caressed her skin, a tingling sensation spiraled up from her fingers and toes.
“You’re more than just okay, Rachelle.”
She laughed off his praise. “I bet you say that to all the women.”
“I told you before, I haven’t had many women in my life.”
“Their loss. Someday you’ll find a cover model, or an entrepreneur intent on saving the world, or some other interesting, sophisticated woman who deserves you.”
He rolled his eyes. “I don’t have time to play games. I need to spend my time making them.” He laughed at his own pun.
She stared at him. Was he serious? “Why? With your looks and personality,” and money, which carefully she didn’t add to the list, “you could take your pick. You’re a great guy. You should find someone. Be happy.”
“Now you’re starting to sound like Ben.” He strolled over to the floor-to-ceiling window and stood quietly with his hands shoved in his pockets. “I was in love once.”
A crack in his voice tempted her curiosity. “What happened?”
He shrugged and shoved his hands deeper into his pockets. “She decided a football jock was a lot more fun than an IT geek.”
“She dumped you?”
His eyes flashed. “Ouch-crash-boom-whollup.” He attempted a comic book smile.
She turned in her chair, debating whether or not to reach out. “Some women are just plain stupid.”
“You think?” He fought off a smile.
“Yes, I know. They think hot bad boys are the way to go, until they get handled a bit too ro
ughly. Men like to own, dominate, crush.”
“Not all men. I keep telling you, I’m not one of those guys.”
He also wasn’t a hookup type who subscribed to every dating app and right-swiped on every picture to increase his odds of getting lucky.
“I can still cancel if you’re uncomfortable.” His intense, green-speckled hazel gaze sliced through her concerns. “But I’d rather not. Rachelle, please come with me to California to help me present and meet the team.”
No. Just say no. “It’s only for a few days, right?”
He walked toward her slowly. “Just a couple.”
“Okay.”
He leaned in. “I so want to kiss you now.”
“Your kisses are becoming a habit.”
He leaned a little closer. “Habits aren’t always bad for you, you know.”
Either his words or his hot, coffee-fragrant breath were the cause of the tingles shimmering down her neck, and the reason she closed the two-inch gap. He responded with the richest, sexiest kiss she’d ever experienced.
She kissed him back, this man of her choosing—not of her father’s, or anyone else’s.
Her mind echoed with the word yes.
Chapter Eleven
Rachelle clutched the armrest of her airplane seat as the small executive plane descended.
Why did she ever agree to get on the plane? Her whole world was again spinning out of control. Houses, a baseball field, and the ocean crowded the view. She couldn't see the runway yet, but expected it was just ahead.
“Remind me to call and check on Dempsey after we land.”
Jacob sat across from her, oblivious to the descent, too busy doing last-minute adjustments to his presentation.
“He’ll be fine at the kennel. He’s got plenty of dogs to play with. Didn’t you say you know the owner?”
“Karly Krane. We went to school together.”
“See? He’ll be fine.”
No, he won't. He doesn’t play well with others. He’s like me. In a way, Dempsey was a lot like her brother as well. He acted out to get attention because he wanted more attention than any one person could give.
She pressed back into the oversized leather seat and studied Jacob. He sat across from her with a small table in between them, focusing on his laptop. Their drinks had been cleared by a crewmember twenty minutes earlier, but now she wished she’d asked for ginger ale to settle her stomach.
“Are you comfortable with the presentation?” she asked, digging her fingers into the armrest when the small jet hit the runway and bounced.
“Yep, just trying to make sure I’ve covered potential questions the investment team may ask. One can never be too prepared.”
How can you be so calm?
“Mr. Reyes,” Captain Norris’s baritone announced through the speaker, “I’ve confirmed your limousine is waiting. Give us a few minutes to park and let the crew unlock the doors for your departure. The weather is sixty-three degrees with a slight wind out of the west. The driver would like you to know there is no traffic. You should reach your meeting on time.” Jacob pressed the intercom button on the side of his chair. “Thanks, Doug. Nice flight.”
Nice flight? What was he talking about?
Her stomach felt like she’d been bouncing on a trampoline for the past two hours.
“You’ll do great.” She wanted to reach out and touch his arm, needing to tap into his tranquility, but pressed back into her seat.
“We will do great. I’m not worried. The concept is solid. If they don’t want to back me, someone else will.” His vibrato sounded solid, but he was concerned about the capital, she could tell by the way he was studying the presentation to make sure every nuance was addressed.
She folded up the lap blanket and laid the plush throw on the seat across the aisle to give herself something else to think about.
“You sound confident.” She’d straightened the jacket of her royal blue suit with silver accents. The power suit would make a statement. One Jacob had already noticed. He’d changed mid-flight into a blue suit and open-collared button-down. He looked like the effective CEO his title declared him to be.
“That’s my job. I have to champion my business. No one else will.”
He waited for her to join him at the front of the cabin, then let her exit the plane first. A chauffeur held the limo door open, and she slid into the black leather interior.
“Ben.” Her breath caught in her chest, then was quickly followed with a joyous exhale. “I wasn’t expecting to see you.”
“Holding my brother hostage is the only way I can pin him down long enough to get answers. This is probably the last chance I’ll get before the charity event on Saturday.”
As soon as Jacob slid into the seat and the car door shut, Ben launched into his update. Jacob’s eyes had glazed over after thirty seconds.
“Lastly, we might need to hire extra help,” Ben leaned forward and tapped his brother on the knee. “Did you hear what I said?”
Rachelle pulled a pad of paper from her purse. “Since the hotel doesn’t have enough kids’ chairs, may I suggest someone purchase yoga balls. They come in all different colors and sizes. I suggest getting a small size and an air pump. The kids will love sitting on them. Plus, you can even give them away if you want, as prizes or something.” She took a breath and jotted down some notes. “It’s unfortunate the hotel's kitchen caught fire. I say we contact a fast food restaurant and bring in chicken nuggets or something similar. We can get ice from the hotel, and bring in sodas and ice cream and different kinds of chips.” She added a few more items to the list, then looked up.
Both men were staring at her wide-eyed. “I…uhhh…never mind.” She slid the pad back into her purse and folded her hands in her lap.
Ben turned to Jacob. “If you don’t kiss this woman, I will, and I don’t kiss women very often.”
She threw him a grateful glance. “I tend to take over. You don’t mind?”
“Woman, you’re a miracle worker. I love you.” Ben grabbed her hand and kissed each one of her fingers. When he began the second round, making exaggerated smooching sounds, she tried pulling her hand back. “Stop!” The wimpy demand fizzled with another giggle.
Only Jacob’s low, resonating, possessive growl made Ben release her hand.
Jacob leaned closer to her ear. “I’ll thank you properly when we get home tonight, and I won’t be kissing just your fingers.” He slid her a sly warning, which made her core overheat.
“This is a business trip,” she reminded him.
“Yes, and after that part is over,” he lowered his voice to a whisper, “I would like to celebrate. One way or another, the two of us together is a winning combination,” he breathed in her ear, each word sending a shiver down her spine.
Ohhh. Stay calm. Breathe. She crossed her legs to stifle the throb of heat from what he whispered.
Ben tapped her knee to get her attention. “Ms. Problem-Solver, I have another problem for you to solve.”
Thankful for the reprieve, she engaged Ben in back-and-forth banter for another ten minutes, until the limo pulled up in front of an impressive business complex.
“Did we cover everything?” Rachelle ripped off the to-do list and handed it to Ben. She liked Jacob’s brother, and loved being able to help the kids.
“You might regret giving me your cell phone number.”
“I’m here if you need me.” Rachelle chuckled, and accepted Jacob’s hand to exit the car.
Ben leaned out of the car. “Marry this one, would you?”
Panic seized her breath.
Ben pulled the door shut, and a second later the limousine merged into traffic.
Jacob, preoccupied with his presentation preparations, absentmindedly interlaced his fingers into hers and tugged. “Come on, we need to get going if we don’t want to be late.”
She numbly followed him through the rotating doors to the elevators, all the while struggling to rid her mind of the thought of marr
iage.
Instead, she visualized the presentation sequence, letting each slide and graphic materialize, but the images kept shifting out of focus. His warm skin against hers messed with her concentration. She could smell his scent, which reminded her of an ocean breeze. His presence soothed her, made her believe in goodness and possibilities.
When the elevator doors opened, he entered, pulling her along, then pushed the button to the top floor. “You’ll like Glenn.” Jacob adjusted his suit jacket in the mirrored elevator walls. “The other investors are financial types who like to flash their money around.”
The undertone of his statement caused her internal system to blare a warning. The elevator door opened, and he walked to the towering glass doors with the names of several organizations she didn’t recognize.
A receptionist stood and escorted them into a vast boardroom overlooking the city of San Diego. Another visitor might have been impressed, but she wasn’t. The black leather high-back chairs and neutral color carpeting set a boring mood. There was no energy—no spark—no personality. The design left the room nondescript, blah. The room, clearly meant to impress, was just another expensive but plain room just like all the other boardrooms she’d visited.
Yet instinct told her Jacob would create the fireworks. He didn’t hesitate, just pulled his laptop out of his bag and connected it to the room’s projection system. His company logo flashed across the video screen.
“Jacob. You’re here.” A tall man in his late fifties entered the room from the far end. “I wasn’t sure you would make it.”
“I told you I’d be here.” Jacob placed a hand on the small of Rachelle’s back, a possessive gesture, but she didn’t mind, especially since the three men following Glenn into the conference room fit the profile of men she desperately tried to avoid. Dark suits, greedy eyes, pompous smirks. The way their eyes skimmed over her made her feel dirty.
She tapped into the warmth emanating from Jacob’s touch, fighting against the urge to leave.
Jacob stepped in front of her, shaking hands, and directed the men to the other side of the table, away from her. “Gentlemen, shall we get started?”