I leapt into his arms, me seeking out his lips and releasing everything. What happened between him and Rachel didn't matter. All the niggling questions about him and me were answered with one sentence.
"Oh Jacob," I sighed in between smacks. "Thank you."
He pulled me closer and there was no mistaking the curve of his erection, thumping against me with need.
Feeling wild, sexy, I snaked my hand between our bodies until I cupped him, stroking him nice and slow. "Perhaps I should thank you properly."
"Ahem."
My eyes widened, half expecting another enterprising photographer ready to snap a whole new set of pictures.
But the woman that stood a few feet away wasn't holding a camera. Instead, she was holding a highly uncomfortable look.
Jacob righted himself, turning to face her and the woman's discomfort immediately turned to fear. "Mr. Whitmore, Ms. Laraby told me I could find you here..."
"It's fine, Mrs. Joy," he said, cutting her off with a chuckle. "You're in no trouble."
I didn't know if her wide eyed shock was because of Jacob's lighthearted laugh or the fact he wasn't ripping her a new one. I gave her a sympathetic smile. Trust me, I get it. Jacob Whitmore is full of surprises.
He turned a half circle. "Mrs. Joy, this is Miss Rachel Laraby. My new assistant."
The woman stepped forward and gave my hand an efficient shake. "Pleasure."
I bit back a chuckle at that. Pleasure was what we were up to when she stopped our fun. "Nice to meet you."
"Mrs. Joy is one of the lead publicists on staff and will be taking over with Ms. Laraby."
"Really?!" I heard the inappropriate glee in my voice and Mrs. Joy arched a brow.
I cleared my throat. "I mean, that's very interesting news."
Jacob's mouth was impassive but I saw the laughter twinkling in his eye as he stepped to the side and allowed me to pass. "I believe we have other things to attend to, Miss Montgomery."
Tingles danced all over my naughty places. "Absolutely, Mr. Whitmore."
I stepped out onto the main hall and once we got near the elevators, I could hear the conference door slam open. Rachel was hollering something about termination.
I didn't relax until the elevator doors slid closed and we put a few floors between us and her.
"She can't really sever the relationship with Whitmore and Creighton, right?"
He gave me an incredulous look. "Give me a little credit, Leila. Our contract with Rachel is ironclad."
I had other questions about things she could do if she got mad enough, but all the thoughts in my head turned to goop when Jacob reached for my hand, interlacing his fingers with my mine.
"I want to take you somewhere," he said, giving it a slight squeeze. "Somewhere special."
****
I thought I was completely, irrevocably in love with the hustle of the city. Venice was filled with ancient buildings bursting with history. The colors were so vivid in spite of the crumbling facade. But the colors of the country, greens so bright that I could feel them wriggling with life, took my breath away. Jacob held my hand, quiet as I gushed on and on about how lovely it all was.
It shouldn't have surprised me that Jacob's villa looked like something straight off the silver screen, but I still gawked at it from the backseat. It had an antique elegance, the house painted a cream with dark shutters, surrounded by century old trees.
"It's beautiful." I gushed, unclicking my seatbelt. I knew it was the gazillionth time I'd said the word ‘beautiful’ in the past hour, but no other adjectives seemed to do it justice. "Just...beautiful." Jacob's firm hand slid up the hem of my skirt, stopping only when he hit the crotch of my panties. "I can think of more beautiful things."
Heat washed all over me, simmering where the pads of his fingers pressed against my carnal slit. We could have been parked in front of a villa or parked outside of a Walmart. No one could command my body like Jacob. No one could make the world pause until his next movement. No one.
The driver’s door slammed shut and with a low, dangerous chuckle, Jacob pulled his hand from beneath my skirt. That chuckle lasted no more than a few seconds, but it spoke volumes. It said that he had something planned. Something erotic. Something delicious.
My body trembled with anticipation but the driver did me a favor by not giving me one of those looks that said he knew exactly what we were up to. I took a few steps forward onto the cobblestone driveway to let Jacob out and took in the estate. The front drive was a half circle that stretched from the wrought iron gate entrance and exit. The grassy area it enclosed was maintained but not precision cut; the blades reached my ankles and gave a softer, more whimsical feel. Flowers the color of the rainbow lined a marble fountain that spritzed cool, clear water.
“Come,” Jacob said behind me. “Let me show you the house.”
When we stepped inside the house, paintings and rustic tapestries created a vivid picture of elegance. I could almost see some regal lord and lady vacationing here, entertaining their royal guests. He took me around to a sitting room, a library, and a kitchen that save a few modern appliances still had the rustic appeal of days long past.
“Oh my god,” I said, turning in a circle as I took it all in. “I feel like I’m in Downton Abbey.”
He let out a laugh as he put his briefcase on a mahogany table. “I gave the housestaff the day off. I could call them back if you want the full experience.”
I looped an arm through his. “Nah. I like the idea of having the place all to ourselves.”
He tucked a bundle of curls behind my ear, looking at me with an intensity that made my heart thunder in my chest. "You know what they say about great minds."
It took all I had in me to not tell him to take me then and there, right on the oriental rug, flanked by furniture that probably had enough zeroes tacked on the end to send me into cardiac arrest, but the more I stared into his eyes the more I saw the struggle.
I loosened my hold on him, his apprehension contagious. "Is something wrong?"
"No," he said unconvincingly, then gave me a sheepish look. "I...I am just concerned for you."
"What?" I said, brow wrinkling in confusion. I let out a sigh when I remembered saying our contract made me feel like he saw me as a commodity. "If this is about the house...I think it's great. I love the house."
"This isn't about the house." He paused then gave me a long, guarded look. "Well, it's about a certain room in the house where certain things are done."