"And other times as well. She may be having me watched. We have to be convincing."
"You're kidding me, right?"
"No kidding." He rose to his feet and strolled around the desk, then rested his ass against it. The desk she was trying not to think about.
"I know things have been a little"-he glanced at the desk and a smile flickered across his face-"uncomfortable between us lately." He stroked a finger along the steel top of the desk, and for some reason she couldn't yank her gaze away. It was around this time last week that she'd been lying on that very desk. She shifted in her chair and crossed her legs.
"But I like to think of us as friends," Jake continued. "And I'm hoping that you'll do this not so much because it's part of the job, but because we are friends."
"Oh, low blow."
"You know what it's like to be in a relationship you can't get out of. I need your help here, Kim."
"And another low blow." But he sounded genuinely worried. He wouldn't allude to Michael unless the situation was serious. And Jake had done everything for her. How could she contemplate not helping him now?
"Okay, I'll be your girlfriend, but not your fiancée. That would be too weird with your family."
"Okay, live-in lover then."
"Pretend live-in lover."
"Well, you can pretend the lover bit but not the live-in. You don't have to worry, Kim," he said gently. "From now on if you want us to have sex, you'll have to ask."
"I will?"
"I know I shocked you the other day." He stroked a finger along the desk again, and a spasm rippled through her. "And I know you've been avoiding me. I'd like things to be comfortable between us again. So I want it to be clear-if you need anything from me, I'm here for you. You just have to tell me what you want. Otherwise … we're friends."
She swallowed. This was exactly what she wanted. Wasn't it? On the surface, everything seemed perfect. Why did unease prickle through her, then? She pushed the feeling aside.
"Good. Right then, I'll do it. Though I'm not sure what 'it' is. They don't cover this in the manual."
"Well, for a start, you'll need a dress."
…
It was still early, and all was quiet. Kim peered around the door. She didn't want a repeat of the last morning she'd woken in Jake's spare room. Not that she believed that would happen-Jake had said the next move must come from her, and he was a man of his word.
She needed coffee, so she dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, ready for her shopping trip, and headed for the kitchen.
She'd moved in last evening, and so far, Jake had been the perfect host.
He hadn't touched her. Unfortunately, that didn't matter. She was hot and bothered being in the same house as him. She tried to remember how she'd felt living with Michael. Michael had been controlling, he'd picked her clothes, decided where she went, who she went with. And she'd been too ashamed by how pathetic he'd insinuated she was to fight him. And too scared by the despair twisting her mind to find a way out. She understood now that it hadn't all been Michael, but that she had never come to terms with her mother's death or the belief that her mother had felt trapped in a loveless marriage, like Kim had come to feel. Never talked to anyone about it, just let her fears and suspicions fester inside her. Marriage to Michael brought her face-to-face with those fears. And that had nearly broken her.
She wouldn't get into that situation ever again. And while she loved Jake dearly as a friend, she had no illusions as to his nature. He liked to be in control.
But he was obviously on his best behavior right now.
Kim was on her second cup of coffee when he made an appearance. She glanced up and then quickly away. "Er … clothes would be good here," she muttered into her mug.
He'd obviously showered. His black hair glistened with moisture, he smelled of soap and aftershave, and he was utterly stunning, all sleek muscle and golden skin wrapped up in a tiny white towel. Her eyes locked on the place where it was tucked in at his hips. It seemed a little precarious. One tug and …
She went all hot and wet just looking at him, but luckily, from his bland expression, he didn't seem to notice her reaction.
Why did his blandness make her uneasy? Like she was missing an important part of some big picture.
He moved with the grace of a great jungle cat, prowling the kitchen, pouring himself a coffee, and finally settling in the chair opposite, long, hair-roughened legs stretched out in front of him. "Did you sleep well?"
No, she hadn't. She'd tossed, and she'd turned. "Good, thanks."
He scrutinized her from head to toe-she was completely covered-and frowned. "Are you okay?"
"Why shouldn't I be?"
"You seem flustered, that's all."
Maybe a little truth was needed here. "I'm not used to having breakfast with nearly naked men."
"Under normal circumstances I'd be totally naked."
An image flashed up in her mind, and she only just resisted fanning herself. Instead, she pursed her lips. "Thanks for sharing."
"You want something to eat?"
"You going to cook me breakfast?"
"Why not?"
Kim didn't know he could cook-she'd thought his housekeeper did all that. She watched, trying to get her head around "domesticated Jake" while he wandered around the kitchen, still in his towel, collecting ingredients.
He stood with his back to her at the stove, cooking her omelet, and she stared her fill. He had a lovely back, broad at the shoulders, narrow at the waist, smooth and sleek with powerful muscles moving underneath. Her physical hunger stirred.
Unfortunately-not for eggs.
She kept her attention fixed on her food while she ate. The omelet was delicious, rich with herbs and perfectly cooked. The toast, crisp and buttery, but Kim couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong with the world. Jake seemed so relaxed. Maybe he was happy to go back to being friends. She was the problem. She was the one who couldn't stop thinking about-
"What are you up to today?" Jake asked.
"Shopping."
"You want me to come?"
"No." Though at least he'd have to put some clothes on, which would be an improvement … or not.
Heaving a huge sigh, she pushed away her plate and got to her feet. "Thanks for breakfast." She had the weirdest urge to peck him on the cheek and say have a nice day or something similar, like an old married couple. Instead, she headed for the door. She gave him one last quick glance; he watched her out of hooded eyes, a small smile playing on his beautiful lips. It vanished when he caught her gaze. He raised his cup.
"Seven thirty tonight?"
"I'll be here."
Chapter Twelve
The party to celebrate Jake's father's sixtieth birthday was taking place in a hotel in the center of London, and there were five hundred guests, so it was hardly a typical birthday party. But Jake had told her that anything went as far as dress code was concerned-she didn't need to be formal. What she needed to do was exert her own personality, though she wasn't sure what that was. She suspected somewhere between skintight leather pants and elegant long black dresses. But probably no longer loose-fitting khakis, Doc Martens, and a T-shirt.
In the end, she hadn't bought a dress, but red silk palazzo pants that clung to her hips and then flared out. To complete the ensemble, she wore a matching top, cut off at her midriff to show the belly button ring she was quite fond of.
Jakes eyes lingered on the little jewel when she emerged from the spare room at seven twenty-five. But he just nodded and said, "Very nice," in a totally colorless tone.
Tonight, with any luck, they'd persuade Nadia that Jake was a lost cause, and life could return to normal. Though she couldn't imagine life ever being normal again. In fact, she had no clue what normal was anymore.
Jake, dressed in black pants and a black silk shirt open at the throat, guided her into the elevator, across the lobby, and out into the evening. The air was warm.
"Have you gotten your dad a present?" she asked as they hovered for a second outside the door to the ballroom. She could already hear the party in full swing on the other side.
"Yes. A parachute jump."
"You bought your sixty-year-old father a parachute jump for his birthday?"
"Well, you and I did, actually-it's a joint present. And he's never done one before."
"I suppose there's always a first time for jumping out of airplanes, isn't there?" She took a deep breath. "Okay, let's get this over with."
He touched her on the arm, and she hesitated before turning to him.
His gaze ran down over her. "I just wanted you to know you look incredibly sexy in that outfit."
"I do?"
"Yes, you do-thank you for making such an effort. I'm sure Nadia will be suitably impressed."
Did that mean he wasn't?
She shook her head; she was overthinking everything. This was a favor to a friend. Once Nadia was well and truly out of the picture, Jake would be grateful and would no doubt up her grade and let her go shoot someone.
A band played in the far end of the room. Something she didn't recognize, but smooth and mellow. They paused inside the doorway. At first she didn't see anyone she knew, but then she saw Jake's mother and father across the room, at the center of a knot of people.
Jake and his father had the same brilliant blue eyes; otherwise, there were no similarities. Jake's father was a couple of inches shorter than his mother, with sandy hair and a stocky build. A self-made man, he'd started his business forty years ago with nothing and built it into a multibillion-dollar international company.