Make Me Desperate

by BETH KERY

  Jim faded off, and Harper didn’t press him to elaborate. She had the impression his youthful enthusiasm had gotten away from him, and that he’d been given strict orders never to be loose-lipped—especially about Latimer himself—with anyone he drove. Had Jacob learned about car engines as well as the workings of boats from the man he’d mentioned the other night on the yacht, the one he’d worked for when he was a teenager?

  Like on the night she’d attended the cocktail party, Elizabeth Shields greeted her on the front steps of the Latimer mansion. She was dressed more casually tonight, but every bit as professionally, in a feminine white blouse and dark blue skirt that emphasized her trim figure. They greeted each other with polite friendliness.

  “Jacob is still in a meeting, but will be with you shortly,” Elizabeth said briskly as she opened one of the heavy pine doors for Harper. She led Harper into the enormous, windowed great room. “He asked me to put you in the den until—” She broke off suddenly, and Harper realized why. Jacob and another man had just walked through the terrace doors on the far side of the great room. Harper saw Jacob’s gaze land on her. Everyone froze for a few seconds. The tall, gray-haired man noticed them, too, but no one said anything for a tense moment.

  “Just follow me, then,” Elizabeth said in a muted tone to Harper after the awkward pause. A little bewildered, Harper jerked her gaze off Jacob and began to follow Elizabeth in the direction of the staircase and the corridor behind it.

  “Harper.”

  Harper stopped and turned. Jacob was stalking across the long stretch of the great room. He looked good, wearing a silver-gray suit, white shirt, and black tie. The coolness of the colors of his apparel seemed to set off the vibrant, warm tones of his bronzed skin and hazel eyes. From the corner of her vision, Harper noticed that Elizabeth had halted, as well.

  “I was just finishing up,” Jacob said as he neared her.

  “Don’t let me bother you,” Harper assured. “I’m happy to wait.” She smiled politely at the older gentleman when he trailed behind Jacob, approaching them. She recognized him as the United States secretary of defense, Stewart Overton. Well, here’s confirmation of Ruth’s speculations about Jacob and Lattice still being involved with the Department of Defense. Jacob glanced back at Overton.

  “Harper McFadden, this is Stewart,” he said.

  “Stewart Overton,” the man said, stepping toward Harper with his hand extended.

  Jacob’s shoulder twitched in a whatever works for you gesture. Clearly, Jacob hadn’t expected the secretary of defense to reveal his full name.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Harper said, shaking hands. “Jacob has a lovely view here, doesn’t he?”

  “Magnificent. We were just enjoying it. Best view of the lake I’ve ever seen.”

  “Harper works for our local paper, but she used to be a reporter for the San Francisco Chronicle,” Elizabeth said tensely.

  A silence settled. Awkward. Jacob gave Elizabeth a repressive glance, scowling, while Overton assessed Harper with a sharpened gaze.

  “Well, Jacob knows how to keep his own house,” Overton said with an air of a man who had just made a decision. “I know he wouldn’t invite anyone into it who didn’t know the rules. Jacob? We’ll be in touch?” Overton boomed, briskly shaking Jacob’s hand. “No, Elizabeth, I can see myself up to the helipad. My pilot is waiting,” he said when Elizabeth began to hurry in his direction.

  For a few seconds after Overton left the room, the three of them didn’t speak. Harper glanced uneasily from Elizabeth—who looked worried—to Jacob, who was still scowling slightly at his assistant. For a few seconds, she wondered if he was about to call out Elizabeth in front of her—Harper—but then—

  “How about a swim before dinner?” he asked Harper suddenly.

  “I didn’t bring a suit.”

  “We have suits. In the pool house, right, Elizabeth?”

  “Uh, yes.”

  Jacob didn’t notice, because he was looking at Harper, but Elizabeth’s brow was knitted in consternation along with something else: disapproval. Elizabeth didn’t think Jacob should have allowed Harper and Stewart Overton to come into contact in his home. She disapproved of Jacob for allowing it. Apparently, she believed Harper shouldn’t be trusted, and that Jacob was being indiscreet—even foolish?—in allowing her to see too much of the secret inner workings of Jacob’s “house” as Overton had stealthily put it.

  “Then we’re all set,” Jacob said, reaching for Harper’s hand. His jaw looked tense, and he was obviously irritated at what had occurred during the brief, charged exchange, but he clearly didn’t plan to address it with Elizabeth presently.

  “Jacob, what should I tell Lisa about your dinner?” Elizabeth called.

  “Nothing,” he replied without turning around. “I’ve told her to go home. So should you. We’ll fend for ourselves for dinner.”

  Harper walked with him through the glass doors and out onto the magnificent terrace, going over in her head what had just occurred. The distinctive whistling, harsh chopping noise of a helicopter reached her ears. She paused on the second level of the terrace and looked back up at the mansion.

  “I didn’t know you had a helipad up there.”

  “Yeah.” He tightened his hold on her hand and urged her down the next flight of steps. “It comes in handy.”

  “Jacob . . . I’m sorry, if I interrupted something—”

  “You didn’t interrupt anything. He was leaving. I invited you here,” Jacob said firmly without turning around.

  “Elizabeth wasn’t pleased that I came into contact with the secretary of defense in your home.”

  Jacob paused slightly and glanced over his shoulder. “So. You recognized him,” he said with an air of resigned inevitability. He resumed leading her down the steps.

  “I told you I wouldn’t leak anything I learned about you,” she said, coming up next to them as they reached the pool level and walked toward the pool house.

  He frowned. “I wouldn’t be asking you here if I wasn’t confident of that at this point,” he said. “And it’s not a big deal, anyway. I just do some consulting work with him sometimes.”

  Harper thought she shouldn’t mention that most people would consider him giving advice to a high-level cabinet member a pretty major deal.

  “Maybe you should assure Elizabeth, then. That I’m not here in the capacity of reporter.”

  They paused outside a glass door. In the distance, she heard the rough chopping sound of the helicopter rising in the air. Wind from the blades ruffled the bangs of Jacob’s burnished hair. Despite the novelty of a helicopter taking off just yards away, Harper couldn’t take her eyes off him.

  “No,” he murmured, his rich, deep voice running over her skin and making it tingle. His agate eyes were heavy-lidded and a seduction all on their own. “That’s not why you’re here, is it?”

  She swayed closer to him. Wind swirled around them, and the chopper noise grew fainter by the second. Why did he have to smell so good all the time? Just a nose full of his scent, and graphic memories bombarded her brain about their raunchy tryst in the Gazette’s bathroom hours ago.

  She cleared her throat and lowered her head, bullying her brain into focusing. “You should say something to her. Elizabeth, I mean. She seems concerned about me. And you.”

  “Don’t worry about Elizabeth. I’m not.”

  He lifted her chin, and their mouths fused in a taut, hot kiss. By the time she opened her eyes a moment later, the helicopter sound was a distant hum.

  “Hi,” he breathed against her upturned lips a moment later. “I didn’t get a chance to greet you properly.”

  She smiled. “That’s because you were meeting with the United States secretary of defense. I’ll forgive you. This time.”

  He smiled and kissed her once more before stepping back.

&nbs
p; “This is the women’s side,” he said, nodding at the pool house entrance behind them. “Suits are kept in the cupboard next to the showers. There are usually several brand-new ones in there for guests. I’ll meet you out here in a minute?”

  “Okay,” she said, feeling a little light-headed and euphoric from his kiss. The idyllic surroundings. The prospect of spending the evening with him . . .

  All of it.

  She felt a little self-conscious when she exited the pool house a few minutes later. Jacob had been right: there were several suits available. There were bikinis and maillots in a range of sizes. Harper had been determined to choose one that still had tags on it, however; one that was clearly unworn. She didn’t at all like the idea of wearing one of Jacob’s former lover’s swimsuits.

  The only one with tags that was in her size was a cute dark blue bikini, but it was brief. Very brief. She felt like her breasts were exploding out of the top of it, and the bottoms were tiny. Thank God she’d shaved this evening. To make matters worse, she couldn’t find any cover-ups. She grabbed a thick white towel from a cupboard and held it in front of her midriff self-consciously as she exited.

  Jacob was waiting for her, wearing nothing but a pair of black trunks that rode low on his trim hips, leaving the entire breathtaking landscape of his bronzed, cut torso exposed. He stood in the bright sun with his arms crossed below his chest, his stance lazy. Her gaze dropped down longingly over the thin strip of fine, light brown hair that went from his taut belly button and disappeared below the trunks.

  “All set,” she said with fake cheeriness as she approached him. In a second flat, he ripped away her attempt at modesty by whisking the towel out of her hands.

  “Jac—”

  “Wow,” he said, checking her out appreciatively. “You look amazingly good in that,” he said, his stare now on her overflowing cleavage.

  “Down boy,” she muttered, embarrassed but flattered, too. He laughed, white teeth flashing. She started in the direction of the pool, but he caught her hand.

  “Let’s go to the lake,” he said, laughter still lingering on his lips, a sparkle in his eyes. Her heart gave a little jump. He was the most attractive man she’d ever imagined, let alone met . . . or allowed outrageous liberties sexually.

  “Okay,” she agreed.

  He led her down to a sandy beach that was enclosed on two sides by massive, stacked granite boulders. The water in the natural enclosure was calmer than it was further out. It shone in Harper’s eyes like a shimmering liquid sapphire.

  “Do you want to take some boards out?” Jacob asked her.

  “Boards?”

  He pointed to several surfboards stored on a rack, along with a kayak.

  “I don’t surf.”

  “They aren’t surfboards,” he said. “They’re paddleboards.” She followed him over to the rack, watching as he lifted down one of the boards, his back muscles flexing and his gleaming golden brown skin snagging her attention “You can’t surf on Lake Tahoe. Not enough waves. But it’s perfect for paddleboards,” he said, standing the board up in front of her and waiting until she reached to hold it. “You’ve never done it?”

  “No,” Harper admitted, checking out the board with interest while he turned to pull down another one. It was larger than a surfboard, she realized. “I’ve seen people doing it, though. Is it hard?”

  “The hardest part is standing on it. It’s tricky, until you get used to it. Takes a lot of balance. You up for trying it?”

  She glanced down at the brief little bikini top she wore and breasts that threatened to break free of their confinement at any moment. When she met his stare, she saw humor glittering in his eyes. “You know very well what’s going to happen if I try to stand up on one of these things wearing this bikini,” she said condemningly.

  “I have faith,” he said, grinning.

  Something rushed through her. For a few seconds, Harper just stood in place, even when he headed toward the shore, a paddleboard tucked under one arm and a paddle in the opposite hand. He’d looked so young there for a moment, so uninhibited.

  So beautiful.

  It took her a moment to regain her wits after witnessing that unguarded, boyish smile. It had been in such stark contrast to the sober, contained, utterly in control man she’d grown used to.

  And so bizarrely . . .

  . . . Familiar.

  She blinked, realizing he held out a board for her. He handed her a paddle and they both went to the shore. They shoved their boards out into the water.

  After they’d waded in, Jacob instructed her to come up on her knees as a first step. After Harper had balanced herself on the board with effort, they began to paddle around in the cool, calm water. It was very peaceful. Because of Tahoe’s pristine waters, she could look all the way down to the bottom of the bright blue lake, seeing smooth, round stones and schools of silvery fish.

  She looked over at Jacob and saw he was watching her as he paddled. She smiled.

  “It’s so beautiful,” she said.

  “Yeah. You ready for the hard part?”

  “Standing?” she asked doubtfully. The board had wobbled quite a bit, even when she’d gone to her knees on it.

  “Yeah. You can do it,” he said. He put his hands flat down on the board and pushed himself up in one movement, his grace singular to witness given his tall, muscular body.

  “You can’t expect me to do that!” she called to him when he began to paddle in the stand-up position.

  “You can do it,” he repeated, his steadfastness amazing her a little.

  Maybe he knew she was self-conscious, because he kept his back to her as he paddled. She envied his smooth glide across the water. She eyed the board speculatively. If he can do it, I can.

  Grinning like a kid, she placed her hands on the board. Her eyes went wide when she tried to shift her feet under her, and the board dipped and rocked alarmingly in the water. Crap. Jacob had made it look so easy. She tried to hoist herself up again, but the board teetered, and then heaved. The next thing she knew, she was going face-first into the cold water.

  When she surfaced, sputtering and grasping for her board, she saw him standing above her in godlike supremacy, balancing effortlessly even with all the rough chop she’d made in the water. Again, she saw that small, boyish smile on his lips.

  “Show-off,” she muttered, casting him a condemning glare before she hauled her upper body onto the board.

  “Everybody falls off the first time,” he said, using his paddle backward in the water to come to a standstill next to her.

  “You could have told me that,” she accused, wiping her wet hair out of her eyes. She hauled a leg up onto the board, pausing to gasp for air. Her breasts had nearly busted loose at that point, but she couldn’t have cared less. She’d seen that sparkle of humor in Jacob’s eyes . . . the glitter of a dare.

  “There it is,” he said very softly.

  “There’s what?”

  “The look,” he said, but she was too busy concentrating on proving she could get up on that damn board to pay much attention to his remarks. A minute later, she succeeded, coming to a very shaky standing position on the quivering board.

  “There you go. Bend your knees some. Now use the paddle. It’ll help you find your balance.”

  Half a minute later, she gave a victorious laugh as she glided next to him across the calm water. It was a lovely rush.

  “See, I told you that you could do it,” he said once they’d turned and headed back toward shore.

  “I love it,” she said, grinning. A lake breeze whipped past them. She shivered. Lake Tahoe was very deep, and its water remained chilly year-round. Jacob maneuvered his board up next to hers. He reached and touched her shoulder, joining them, his hand feeling warm on her cool skin. They bobbed next to each other and came to a relative standstill.


  “You’re cold?” he murmured.

  “A little.”

  “Throw your paddle in the water,” he directed calmly.

  “What? Why?”

  “It’ll float to shore. Just do it,” he said, his expression serious as he kept them steady.

  What the hell? She did what he said, despite her doubt, tossing her paddle into the sun-dappled water.

  Jacob’s hand lowered to her elbow. “Now . . . transfer over onto my board.”

  “Are you nuts?” she exclaimed, because he was applying pressure on her elbow, urging her to move her feet onto his board, and her board was starting to shake beneath her. There was no way they could keep their balance. “We’re going to fall.”

  “No we won’t. I hate going in when I don’t intend to, so believe me when I say it’ll work. Do it quickly,” he insisted. “I can keep my board steady, but you can’t hesitate. One foot on my board, find your balance, then shift your weight all at once. You can do it,” he said very quietly.

  Like in all things, she found herself responding wholesale to the sound of his voice. She put her right foot on his board cautiously, finding a very precarious balance.

  “Now,” he said.

  He pulled on her arm and she shifted her weight onto his board. Her heart jumped into her throat. The board heaved, and she thought for a split second they’d spill over for sure. Then Jacob shifted back slightly on the surface, and she sensed the subtle, sure force of him balancing the board with his strong body. She felt herself aligning with his power.

  “I can’t believe we did that,” she muttered in anxious pleasure a few seconds later.

  His chuckle behind her was delicious. So was his touch on her pebbled skin when he spread his hand on her left hip. His other hand came in front of her, holding the paddle.

  “Take it. We need the momentum,” he said.

  Cautiously, she took the paddle and began to dip it into the water. They zoomed forward. She laughed, ebullient at the sensation at their smooth glide. Until Jacob put his other hand on her hip and shifted forward slightly on the board, that is.