Finding Jacob, Book One E-Book

Tracie Podger

• Herausgeber: S&P Publishing
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2023

Beschreibung

I found Jacob when I needed a plus one. I didn’t expect to lose him when I needed a permanent one. Anna was determined to attend the wedding of her sister, even though the sister was marrying her cheating ex. She was also determined she wouldn’t attend alone. Finding a Jacob to fill the shoes of a made-up boyfriend wasn’t going to be easy, though. An arranged meeting in New York with a mysterious entrepreneur was the perfect opportunity for Anna to fill those shoes, and after a night of passion, Anna took a part of Jacob away with her. But life isn’t smooth running for Anna and Jacob. Both have to adjust to a life they hadn’t embarked on. Both got lost in the meantime. Can Anna find a way back to Jacob? Can Jacob find himself again? A story of love and hope, of strength and courage to overcome whatever life throws.

Leseprobe

FINDING JACOB, BOOK 1

TRACIE PODGER

Copyright 2021 © Tracie Podger

All rights reserved.

This is a work of fiction. Characters, names, places and incidents, either, are products of the author’s imagination or they are used factiously. Any reference to actual locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

No part of this book may be reproduced or altered in any form, or by any electronic, or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, to include, by not exclusive to audio or visual recordings of any description without permission from the copyright owner.

CONTENTS

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Stalker Links

Acknowledgments

About the Author

Also by Tracie Podger

CHAPTERONE

“Anna, I bagged these up separately,” Carol said. She handed me a pair of red lace panties in a sandwich bag. I stared at them for the longest time until sheer embarrassment had me reach out for them.

“Jesus, sorry! You didn’t wash them, did you?” I asked, collecting the rest of the dry-cleaning.

“No. Found them in Harry’s suit pocket.” She laughed as she helped me load the suits, shirts, dresses, and trousers into my car parked on yellow lines outside her shop.

I threw the knickers on the passenger seat and climbed in, my cheeks flaming. It wasn’t from embarrassment, however, it was from anger.

Those weren’t my knickers.

I drove home and allowed Monica, my housekeeper, to take the washing upstairs although I instructed her to just leave Harry’s on the bed.

“I think he needs to take them to his place,” I said through gritted teeth.

It had been five months ago that I’d discovered he’d had an affair. I never got to know with whom, and that grated on me. We’d talked and I’d decided to give him one chance. I bagged up the knickers I’d brought in and looked at them. He’d just blown that one chance.

I sent Monica home early, promising I was okay, and I just wanted to cook a quiet dinner myself that evening. She was like a mother hen, and I loved her, I didn’t want to subject her to the vitriol Harry was going to receive the minute he walked through the door.

I decided to get proactive. I packed all the clothes he left at my house, the toiletries and crap he seemed to be moving in. He even had a photograph of his mother on the bedside cabinet. I placed that in a holdall, a cheap nasty one I’d let him have, and zipped it up. I left it by the front door.

I busied myself with making dinner, and eventually, I heard him come through the front door.

“Anna, I’m home,” he called out, and just hearing him use the word home roiled my stomach.

“I’m cooking tonight,” I replied, faking a jolly tone to my voice.

“Oh, that sounds nice. I’ll shower first.”

“Don’t bother, it’s nearly ready. Come and eat first.”

He came into the kitchen and stood behind me. He looked over my shoulder at pots bubbling away and kissed my cheek.

“Sit down,” I said. When he’d moved away from me, I pulled the bag from the drawer I was leaning against and placed it on a plate. I then added the engagement ring he’d recently presented to me on top. I turned and put that plate in front of him and took a seat opposite. I picked up my filled glass of red wine. “Care to explain?”

He swallowed hard, stammered a couple of times, and then lied.

“They’re from…before. I’m so sorry, my darling, I thought I’d gotten rid of everything relating to her.”

I took a sip from my glass and smiled at him. “Liar. Those were in your suit pocket and that suit has been cleaned twice since The Slut.” As I didn’t know her name or any details about her, The Slut seemed an appropriate title.

“They can’t have,” he stammered and had the audacity to pick them up as if to study them. “Are you sure they aren’t yours?”

“I wouldn’t wear something so cheap and nasty,” I replied. “Key,” I said, holding out my hand.

“Huh?”

“Key. My. Key. I want it back.”

“I don’t…what are you saying?”

“We’re done. I gave you one chance and you’ve blown it. I want you out of my house. Your clothes are by the front door, and I want my key back.”

“I don’t fucking believe you. You won’t even give me a chance to explain,” he shouted as he pushed back the chair to make that scrape he knew I hated. I did the same.

“Don’t you dare! You will not treat me with such disrespect. You can’t keep your cock in your own pants, you got caught…again…and you think you can shout at me?” My voice rose way louder than his had.

“You’re getting hysterical,” he said.

That was it. I laughed manically and rounded the table. I grabbed his arm. I wasn’t anywhere near strong enough to frogmarch him to the front door, but he got the meaning and walked there himself. He took my door key off his key ring and threw it on the floor, then left.

I slammed the door behind him…and then slid down it and cried.

I heard his car wheels spin from the drive and had no doubt there would be gravel dents on my Porsche.

“You fucking prick,” I shouted to an empty house.

I knew I’d get over him, but I was hurt. We’d been together for three years, he was the only man I’d allowed to move in with me, and he’d broken that one precious commodity I rarely gave—my trust.

I was further hurt when, six months later, I found out the truth.

“Can you believe this?” I snapped, throwing an invitation on the table in a restaurant I was meeting my girlfriends for lunch in.

Dory picked it up. “No way! Seriously? That girl has got some gall.”

Penny snatched it from her. “Fucking hell, my darling. What have you said?”

“I haven’t said anything yet. My mum is all, ‘it was a while ago and it’s family, and you should forgive your sister, she’s the only one you have,’ bullshit.”

In fact, my mother had stunned me. I called her to ask if it was a joke that I’d been sent the invitation and she’d confirmed it wasn’t. It was my pregnant sister’s wish that I attend her wedding….to my cheating ex. My sister was The Slut and, according to my mother, they had split up when I’d found out for the first time, but got back together because, ‘true love is never easy and they’re in love, can’t you understand that?’ My ex, Harry, had gotten her pregnant and for the sake of decency, they were now getting married!

True love, my arse.

“You should go. We all should,” screeched Penny. “Think of how funny it would be. They’d be squirming with embarrassment. Or, I’ve got it, take a hunk!”

“Oh, yes, take a hunk. It’s not like you don’t know loads. I’ll help you choose,” Dory added.

The girls laughed and, although I didn’t want to, I joined in. “Yeah, maybe I will!” I knew I wouldn’t, but the fantasy was fun for a half an hour.

We ordered cocktails and lunch and gossiped. Mostly about my shitty sister and my parents’ belief that I should have gotten over it by now. The drunker we got, the more turning up with a hunk sounded appealing. And I wanted the girls to come in the evening, for sure. I couldn’t invite them for the day, of course, but balls to the plans and numbers for the evening. I also suspected my hunk would probably slope off after the official duty was done.

By the end of lunch, I’d filled in the RSVP and added a fictitious first name. Now to find a plus one called Jacob. I popped it into my bag and promised the girls I would send it back.

I posted the RSVP while staggering home later that evening.

CHAPTERTWO

The following morning, I woke with a headache and a sinking feeling in my stomach. I hadn’t been so drunk that I couldn’t remember sending the bloody RSVP back, but I regretted I had. I wasn’t worried about crying off, I didn’t care what my family thought, but there was something tempting about turning up with a gorgeous man on my arm.

Harry had been all about his looks, his insecurities had endeared me at first but then had become annoying. It would blow his socks off to arrive with someone better looking and more successful than he was. I started to laugh. It was immature, not becoming of me, and so out of character, but I loved the idea.

“Jacob, I’m coming to find you,” I said, swinging my legs from the bed and heading to the shower.

For the next couple of weeks work had kept me super busy and I forgot about finding Jacob. I was due to fly to New York with some of my models for a fashion show. I hadn’t the chance to catch up with girlfriends, but Dory was coming with me. She was a royal who was about fifth in line to the throne, if the ones above stopped having kids, and had been my best friend since university.

“Are you ready?” I heard. I looked up from my desk to see Dory standing in the doorway.

I smiled. “Nearly. Is the car here?”

“Yep, and the driver said to get your arse downstairs, we’ll miss the plane.”

I laughed. My driver, Nathan, was a part-time model of the silver-fox type, and a fabulous friend. I gathered the papers I wanted to work on during the journey and my briefcase. Nathan had my bags already loaded.

“Let’s go,” I said.

My personal assistant, Jane, and the four models attending from my agency had gone ahead and would meet us on the plane. It was a private flight, which the designers paid as part of the model fee.

“Have you found Jacob yet?” Dory asked as we drove to the private airstrip.

“No, I forgot, and I haven’t had time anyway.”

“Who’s Jacob,” Nathan asked.

“No one,” I said.

“A fake boyfriend she needs,” said Dory at the same time. I punched her in the arm.

Nathan looked in the rear-view mirror and frowned at me. I raised my eyebrows in challenge, daring him not to ask more. Of course, I lost.

“You need a fake boyfriend called Jacob?” he asked.

“Her sister is getting married to you know who, and they invited Anna.” Dory had a big mouth and I wanted to clamp my hand over it.

“Awkward. Yes, I’d want a fake boyfriend called Jacob in that situation.”

“You could do it,” Dory suggested.

“You know who knows me, so no. But I might have someone who could help,” Nathan said, and then tapped the side of his nose.

I had no idea what Nathan did in his previous life, as he called it, but he knew everyone. He didn’t need to drive me around, or model, he did those things so as not to end up sitting in his plush London apartment bored, so he’d tell me. Dory and I had made up a life for him, he was a thug, an enforcer, a cage fighter, an illegal bare-knuckle boxer, a gangster, all sorts. We told him that, of course, and he’d laugh or smirk depending how close we were to the truth. He had a broken nose and a scar across one eyebrow that added to his attraction. He was a very good-looking man, a single man I’d have dated had the opportunity arose, without a shadow of a doubt, before we became good friends. He was honest, fun, and loyal. Women threw themselves at him, but he wasn’t interested in a relationship. I knew why, everyone else thought he was hankering after me.

Years ago, Nathan had lost his testicles to cancer. He confided in me that he felt like half a man. He could fuck, but he’d never father a child and for that reason he never settled down with anyone. It was a shame. I knew plenty of women, myself included, who had no intention of being mothers through choice. Still, if he said he knew a Jacob, then I’d trust him.

We arrived at the airport and met the rest of the team at check-in. I was proud of my models, I didn’t allow bad behaviour, no matter how famous they became, and I’d only had a problem that was growing with one, Jules, although she wasn’t on this assignment. We checked in and took a seat in the lounge until our plane was ready. We normally flew first class on a commercial airliner, but the designer was very specific in wanting these models and they commanded a higher fee, although I always paid for Dory and myself. Not that she couldn’t have afforded the fare, of course.

We also had only three days to get in and get back out again. Angie was booked for a photo shoot in Africa, and I had a television appearance.

Once called for, we settled into our seats on the plane, and I spread some paperwork on the small table in front of me. Before we headed to the runway, I received a text message.

Call this number, he’s expecting you to. Ask for Jacobha ha

It was from Nathan and contained an overseas mobile number. I sighed and shook my head. It was just like Nathan to put me in a position where I couldn’t back out. This guy would be expecting my call. However, the more I thought about it, the more tempting it was. A successful American businessman, because that’s who my Jacob would be, would drive Harry nuts.

I settled down to work as we taxied off and smiled to myself.

From the minute we landed, it was chaos. We had to get across the city to the designer for fittings, my assistant had to charge around NYC meeting potential models, Dory and I had a couple of hours to spare only. I decided to call the number. It was answered after a couple of rings.

“Hello, Anna,” he said in velvety tones that immediately hit my core.

“Oh, I wasn’t expecting you to know who was calling.”

His laugh had me widening my eyes at Dory and mouthing, Fuck me at her. She leaned in close to hear.

“Nathan prepared me. I’ve been expecting your call and I know your time is short, so I won’t take long. Would you like to meet for dinner this evening and we can discuss your requirements?”

Dory was nodding her head frantically. “Erm, I’m…” She was trying to snatch the phone from my hands. “Yes, thank you. Although it might be a late dinner.”

“That’s fine. How about I message you the details?”

“Yes, please.” I felt like a bloody teenager arranging a first date.

“Great. I’ll see you this evening.”

He clicked off the call.

“Oh my fucking Lord,” Dory said.

“I know, right? That voice!”

“I’m coming,” she said.

“No, you’re not.”

“No, I mean, I’m coming.” She laughed and fanned her face.

“You’re gay!” I laughed with her.

“Don’t mean a man’s voice can’t turn me on.”

Before I could reply, his text message came through. It detailed a restaurant I knew and had eaten at before and a time of 9:00 p.m. When I’d said a late dinner, I hadn’t expected that late, but it was perfect. It allowed me time to get the fittings out of the way, have a couple of meetings, and then chill for an hour or so.

The day was a blur, I fought off jet lag with copious amounts of caffeine and we got everything done we set out to do. Dory and I headed back to the hotel and to the suite we shared. I was surprised to feel nervous. I’d met many strangers for meetings, but this felt different. This wasn’t personal and I needed to switch that in my mind. Hiring Jacob was a business deal and nothing more.

Once back at the hotel, I met with my assistant, and she showed me some portfolios. We discussed each individual and I agreed with her choice of who to sign up. She really should head my scouting team, but she was my right arm, and I couldn’t bear to let her go. It was selfish of me, but she was happy where she was, she often told me.

After that I decided to shower and relax on the bed for an hour. Or relax as much as I could with Dory still nattering about Jacob’s voice. I wished I’d brought my earphones and eye mask to drown her out.

“Dory, could you fuck off for a half an hour so I can get some peace, and get my nerves under control?”

“You’re nervous?” she asked.

“Yes. So please, give it a rest.”

“Oh, sweetie, you’ll have such a laugh, and we have a code so if he’s no good, text me!”

My girlfriends and I had a code for sticky situations we needed help to get out of. We’d send a text with just MUM on it. We’d then get a phone call to say we were needed home urgently. It never failed. Sending a short, three letter text wasn’t often seen and easy to do under the table if necessary.

She left me alone then.

I must have dozed off because I was woken by Dory shaking my arm. “You need to get up, princess, and slap some shit on your face.”

I groan and looked at my watch. “Shit, I only have a half an hour to get ready.” I leapt from the bed and grabbed my holdall. It contained my makeup and hair products and I sat at the dressing table slapping some shit on my face while Dory did my hair.

I wasn’t going for a full-on face; it wasn’t a date, but I never left my house without at least mascara and lipstick. Thankfully, I was blessed with good genes and a dislike for sitting in the sun and had good skin.

I was ready with ten minutes to go and a taxi waiting for me.

Dory gave me a kiss to my cheek. “Have fun and remember MUM,” she said as she walked me to the taxi.

I was at the restaurant bang on time, and it was only then I realised I had no idea what Jacob looked like or even his real name. Panic caused my heart to quicken.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” I whispered as I stood at the front desk.

“Miss Roberts?”

A waiter walked towards me, and I breathed out a sigh of relief. “Yes,” I replied. I was invited to follow him.

As we approached a table, a gentleman stood. He wore a dark grey suit with a red tie and a crisp white shirt. He was taller than me, even in my heels, and he needed to be on my books! He was the perfect looking, slightly older gentleman. He held out his hand and I took it. His grip held just the right amount of pressure to suggest he knew the difference in signalling alpha testosterone crap and his respectful dominance.

“Miss Roberts. May I call you Anna?” he asked.

Since we were going to discuss a fake date, I nodded and laughed.

“Yes, please do.”

He allowed the waiter to pull out my chair and indicated I should sit. “I have to say I was a little surprised to take a call from Nathan about meeting you. It was a pleasant surprise, however.”

I wasn’t sure on his accent. He wasn’t American, for sure. He had a commanding tone of voice, but gentle at the same time. Immediately, he came across as someone who had no need to shout for attention, it came naturally. My interest in him was piqued.

“How do you know him?” I asked, sliding my napkin over my lap.

“Business dealings in the UK. Many moons ago, and then we became friends. Now, tell me about your predicament,” he successfully deflected and got straight to the point.

“Well, this is probably a little childish in the cold light of the day. My sister is marrying my ex-fiancé and I need a plus one. Preferably someone neither knows. I RSVP’d saying I was bringing someone called Jacob!” I shrugged my shoulders and winced at how daft it sounded.

“To play a role?”

“Well, yes, I guess so.” I paused as the waiter poured water and handing me the menu. “It’s stupid idea, forget it. And I don’t know your name.”

“Would you be amused if I told you it was Jacob?”

“Very. Is it really?”

“Would you like wine?” he asked, not answering. I nodded and then picked up the food menu. “Would you also allow me to order for you? There are some amazing dishes not listed.”

I folded the menu and placed it back on the table. “You are very intriguing,” I stated, and I could feel my cheeks redden slightly. Whatever it was about the guy had me acting like I would on a first date.

“So, tell me about your sister and the ex?” he asked.

“Oh, honestly, you don’t want to know all that crap.” I waved my hand in the air as if brushing away his question.

“I do. I’m curious as to why Anna Roberts needs a plus one when she could have a pick of hundreds and has come to me.”

His voice had lowered and I had to admit, it hit my very core. He was also hypnotic.

“I’m being childish. My ex had an affair, and I never knew with whom. It drove me mad he kept that last piece of information and for that reason, although I’d said I’d forgiven him, I guess I hadn’t really. Not knowing who she was kept me from really trying to fix our relationship—”

“Why do you think it was broken?” he said, interrupting me.

“It had to be, didn’t it? For a man to want an affair, something had to be wrong.”

“No, not necessarily. Some men are simply arseholes, who feel they can’t compete with a successful woman, so fuck around to make themselves feel more powerful. Please, carry on.”

His statement threw me a little. “Erm…well, I guess I never fully trusted him again. Then, I went to collect his cleaning and the shop owner handed me a pair of panties they’d found in his pocket. They didn’t belong to me, for sure. I kicked him out.”

“And now he’s marrying your sister?”

“Oh, this is the best part. I find out the previous woman was my sister, and they hadn’t stopped their affair. Even better? She’s pregnant, too far gone so she must have conceived while he and I were still together. My parents think I should have gotten over it already. They sided with her because she’s having their first grandchild, and I haven’t spoken to any of them for months. A couple of weeks ago, I got the invitation to their wedding.”

I sat back in my chair and sighed.

“I can see why you’d want a plus one. I doubt I’d attend on my own and I’d like to accept the position myself.”

“You can’t do that. Honestly, it was a stupid idea, a drunken one.”

“And it will be immensely fun, Anna. I do expect you to forward me all the details and I will be at your service for the whole day.”

He slid an embossed cream business card across the table.

Jacob Daniels was printed in black with a mobile number and email address.

“So, your name is Jacob?” I asked, laughing.

“Yes, which is why both Nathan and I thought it funny you’d chosen that name. Fate perhaps?”

The waiter arrived with an array of dishes, tapas style, and Jacob detailed each one. He did so in a different accent.

“Where are you from?”

“Spain, although I left there many years ago. A poor immigrant,” he said, shrugging his shoulders and laughing.

“You don’t have a New York accent either, it’s…. softer.”

“I don’t live in New York. I own an apartment that I use when I’m here on business, but that’s all.”

“On business?” I wasn’t sure what I thought the Jacob I was going to meet did for a living. I assume acting since most jobbing actors often did a little escorting on the side.

“Yes. Now, I’d like you to try this wine,” he said, and then poured me a glass.

We spoke mostly about the food, of which he was very knowledgeable, and Spain. He kept a house there. He lived in many places worldwide, which is why, I guessed, he didn’t have a strong accent. It was a mishmash of countries. However, when he was talking about Spain, that accent was obvious. But would his name be Jacob if he was Spanish?

The more we spoke, the more he confused me. He had dark brown hair and light hazel eyes that didn’t quite match in colour, tanned skin, and a voice to fall asleep to. Although my body was screaming that sleep was the last thing I wanted to do!

I couldn’t remember a time when I’d been in a man’s company and enjoyed myself as much. He was attentive, wanted to know about me, gave very little about himself, other than to clarify where his accent came from.

As the evening wore on, the more I wanted him to be my plus one. Not because I wanted to ‘outdo’ my sister, but I wanted more time with him. It was with regret that our evening came to an end.

Jacob helped me on with my jacket and when his hand brushed over the back of my neck, the hairs stood on end. He took my elbow and gently led me outside where we stood on the pavement. He called for a taxi and when one arrived, he opened the door for me.

“Where to?” he asked, looking at me while leaning towards the driver.

“The Plaza.” Before I could give the full address, he nodded and repeated where to take me. He held the rear door open and then came that awkward moment of silence.

Finally, I found my voice. “Forget what I came here for originally, I’ve really enjoyed myself. Thank you for a pleasant evening.”

He took a step closer. “It doesn’t have to end here.” As if his voice couldn’t have gotten any more seductive, it just did, and a quiver rolled over my stomach.

“What do you propose?” I asked, standing upright and holding his gaze.

“The Plaza has a fantastic gin bar.”

“I don’t know, I haven’t explored.”

He held the taxi door wider and gestured with his arm for me to get in. As I slid across the cracked leather seat, a wave of nerves washed over me. I swallowed them down. I was the CEO of a major player in the fashion world, I met models and designers, arseholes and royalty on a regular basis, but nothing compared to sitting next to the Spaniard without a Spanish name. Just the sound of his breathing, deep and slow, had me aroused, and I wondered if he could smell me. I certainly could!

I crossed and uncrossed my legs several times and then I remembered something. Dory!

I needed to send her a text to let her know I was returning to the hotel with the real-life Jacob and, although our room had two bedrooms, if anything progressed from the gin bar, it was going to get awkward.

“I need to message my friend,” I said, retrieving my phone and holding it aloft for confirmation.

“Sure, go ahead.”

I sent a quick text.

You will not fucking believe this guy! Anyway, going for a drink, then…

She replied quickly and I suspected she’d been checking her phone regularly.

Woohoo! I’ve already sorted alternative accommodation for the night. Remember, MUM.

I highly doubt MUM will be necessary. But thanks, speak in the morning xxx

I sent the last text and then diverted my calls.

“All sorted?” he asked.

“Yes. She’s with my PA.”

I didn’t want to say she’d made arrangements for the evening, and it seemed perfectly logical they might be together.

“What are your plans tomorrow?”

“I have one meeting and three shows to get my ladies to.”

“Do you like your job? The industry you’re in?”

They seemed very odd questions to ask. “Yes, to both.” He smiled and nodded. “Do you?”

“Very much so.” Again, he answered without actually answering the question. Perhaps I wasn’t to know that much about him, and it seemed I was at a disadvantage.

I supposed, if he was an escort, and it would have to be a high-class one to afford to live all over the world, as he’d said, he would want to be discreet.

He paid the taxi driver and we climbed from the cab. The hotel door was opened for us and, although it wasn’t the usual hotel I’d stay in, the doorman greeted me by name. He surprised me by doing the same to Jacob. I paused just inside.

“He knows you,” I said, and I wanted to add ‘is this hotel where you bring your clients?’

“Yes. The gin bar is this way,” he replied, placing his hand on my back, and guiding me towards it.

Two elderly women stopped us on the way. They greeted Jacob by name and smiled at me. He introduced me as a friend and, although they were polite enough, it annoyed me to hear them speak in Spanish, excluding me from the conversation. If I thought his English was like melted butter, his Spanish was the chocolate I wanted spread over my body, waiting to be licked off. I shivered at the thought.

“Are you cold?” he asked, turning his attention immediately to me.

“No, someone walked over my grave,” I replied, a standard British term for the explanation of an involuntary shiver.

I half expected the elderly ladies to cross themselves, they looked at me with a mortified expression, one of horror at what I’d said. It did the trick, though. They left and we were able to carry on.

“Clients?” I said, and then laughed at the absurdity of that.

“Huh?”

“Oh, nothing, I was mumbling.”

Jacob opened the door for me, and I led the way into a bar. It was furnished with sofas arranged around small tables. Luxurious cream-covered chairs offered a more formal seating arrangement and that’s where we headed. It was a shame; I would have enjoyed sitting next to him rather than opposite.

“Do you drink gin?” he asked, and then chuckled. “I guess it’s a little late to ask that, isn’t it? I just imagine all Brits do.”

“No, actually, but I’m willing to try anything.”

His stare bored right to my core. “Anything?” he asked, his voice causing a tremble in my stomach.

I leaned forwards slightly. “Yes. Anything.”

“Then let me guide the rest of your evening.”

As if by magic or he’d given some kind of signal I hadn’t seen, a waiter appeared by his side. He placed his order and then sat back in his chair. He crossed one leg over the other, his foot resting on his knee, and he picked an imaginary piece of lint from his trouser leg.

“You told me about the plus one, now tell me about the ex,” he said, and it wasn’t a question, more a demand.

“Not much to tell really. He works in sales, a douche, as you Americans would say…Sorry, Spanish would say, perhaps?” I laughed at my error. “I don’t know why I stayed with him for so long. I didn’t really feel enough for him.”

“You didn’t have enough feelings for him, or you didn’t think you were enough for him?” he asked.

“I didn’t have enough feelings for him. Why did I just quit on the relationship?”

“Are you asking me that question?”

“No. Oh, I don’t know. It’s done and dusted; I don’t miss him. He’s out of my life but sadly, in my sister’s. Not that I feel sad for her, they deserve each other. Just that it’s made life awkward.” I felt like I was rambling.

“Do you feel let down by your parents’ reaction?”

I guessed at that point; he’d hit the nail on the head. I could feel tears prick at my eyes. I breathed in sharply, willing them not to fall, and straightened my back.

“Yes, I do.”

“Then I have a lot to achieve as your plus one,” he said, smirking. “And a lot of homework. If we’re to pull this off, we have to know each other.”

I wanted to ask in what way, I wanted to offer a way, but I didn’t. Instead, I accepted a cold glass of gin and mixer, cucumber and ice, and waited. When we were alone again, I sipped.

“Wow, that’s refreshing,” I said.

He smiled. “For most, it’s the tonic that is the problem, not the gin.” He sipped from his glass and all the while kept his gaze on me.

We chatted about New York, and he answered all my questions without actually answering one.

“Are you always this evasive?” I asked, sipping on my second gin.

“Yes.” His answer and the accompanying smile threw me.

“Oh, I wasn’t expecting that.”

“I’m told women like the mystery,” he replied with a laugh.

I had to stop myself from telling him that I didn’t and remind myself what we had was a business arrangement. I was also expecting us to discuss costs at some point. I highly doubted he worked for free.

“Erm, so when you come to England, would you prefer a hotel?” I asked, stammering slightly.

“If we’re to pretend to be a couple then it would make more sense if I was with you, wouldn’t it?” It was a rhetorical question. His raised eyebrows signalled a challenge to contradict him.

“Yes, I guess so. Perhaps we need to discuss flights and the length of time you’ll be in the UK.”

I could feel my cheeks redden with every word and I wanted to kick myself. The person talking wasn’t me, not usually. I was confident and assertive, yet I felt a jabbering mass of hormones and want in front of Jacob.

“Do you dance?” he asked, throwing me yet again.

“Dance?”

“Yes, dance. Do you?”

“Well, sort of. Why?”

“Because we will dance at your sister’s wedding. Isn’t it customary for the bride and groom to dance for a few bars then invite people to join them on the dance floor?”

“I have no idea,” I replied honestly. Sure, I’d been to weddings and sometimes that was with a partner, but I hadn’t taken any notice.

“If we’re to make an impact, then we ought to be up on the dance floor after the parents.”

“Right. Perhaps I ought to get some practice in,” I said, laughing and hoping it was a joke.

“You’ll have to tell me everything about your parents as well.”

“There isn’t a great deal to tell. And since I’m not talking to them, wouldn’t that seem odd? I mean, would we have had conversations about them if we were dating?”

“Flattering your parents, being the absolute best son-in-law is the game, yes?”

“I wasn’t planning on taking it that far.” I let out a nervous laugh, wondering what the fuck I’d gotten myself into.

“Maybe just a little background so I can at least hold a conversation then.”

“You’re taking this very seriously,” I said.

“Everything I do, I do seriously.”

We were back to seduction and low tones…I hoped!

“I should write notes. Learn to dance, make a résumé for my parents, what else?”

“Your likes and dislikes. How do you like to be held?”

Now we were talking my language. “Held?” I asked, innocently.

“Yes. I don’t want your body to tense every time I touch you.”

“Perhaps we should practice beforehand,” I replied, and it was my turn to raise my eyebrows in challenge.

Jacob placed his glass on the small table between us. He stood and buttoned up his jacket before holding out his hand to me. My brow furrowed in confusion.

“You want to practice, let’s practice.”

My heart missed a couple of beats, but I was up for whatever he had on offer. I placed my glass next to his and took his hand. In silence he led me to the lifts, and I wondered where he thought we were going. I was about to ask when I noticed a porter acknowledge him. Perhaps he was also staying at the hotel. Although he’d said he had an apartment. A fleeting thought hit me, and I chuckled just as the lift doors open.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, keeping his back to me while he pressed a button.

“Oh, nothing. I thought you said you had an apartment in New York.”

He turned to face me, and I hadn’t realised just how close he was. Too close. My core clenched as his masculine scent wafted past me. I breathed in deep and closed my eyes.

“I do,” he replied, and his breath ghosted my cheek. “Here.”

My eyes flew open. “Here?” I started to take a step back and before I could complete the movement, he took hold of my wrist.

“Yes. Is that a problem?”

“No, this job of yours must pay well.” As soon as the words left my mouth, I was mortified. I covered my lips with my palm and my eyes widened. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say that.”

Jacob looked confused. “My job?”

“Oh, forget I said anything. Can we get back to practicing?”

CHAPTERTHREE

His apartment was in the hotel. As the lift travelled up and past the hotel’s floors, so I began to get nervous. There was no way I could afford an apartment at the hotel and my bank balance was more than healthy.

Ever the gentleman, he held his hand over the lift doors and allowed me to leave first. There were two doors, and by placing his hand on my lower back, he guided me to one. In total silence, he opened the door and we walked in. I had been to many plush and luxurious apartments in my time, but his was show-stopping. It was totally not what I would have expected, although it was totally what I should have expected. Beautiful landscape photographs adorned white walls and, although it should feel stark, there was a warmth given from a wooden floor.

I took a step towards one image. A villa on a hill with dramatic, rolling, dark clouds above it. A lone tree stood to one side. The villa looked derelict but so striking against the sky background.

“My childhood home,” he said, and I startled, not realising he was so close behind me.

I could feel his breath on my neck as I dipped my head slightly. “It looks….” I wasn’t sure of the words I wanted.

“Tragic,” he answered perfectly for me.

“Yes, tragic.”

“And sad.” The catch in his voice threw me. I wasn’t sure whether to say anything more. I felt, for a minute, I had lost him to a memory that wasn’t pleasant.

I could feel the heat of his body against my back and my mouth dried. I wanted to lean back into him, to feel his hands on my body, and have him kiss my neck. The thought brought goosebumps to my skin. I missed him immediately as he took a step back and I sighed. I turned away from the picture.

Jacob walked to a sideboard and without seeing what he’d done, music floated around the room.

“Practice,” he said, striding towards me.

He held out his arms and I stepped into them. He took one of my hands in his and placed the other on my back. We danced. Rather, he danced expertly, and I sort of kept up.

“Practice dancing,” I said, and chuckled.

He pulled me into his chest as the music slowed and dropped my hand. He wrapped both his arms around me.

“What did you think we were going to do?”

I reddened; I could feel my cheeks heat. The music came to an end, and we stilled. He removed one arm from around me and placed the back of his fingers on my cheek.

“So hot,” he whispered.

I tilted my face towards his. “If we’re still practicing, should we get intimate?” I smirked.

He lowered his head but kept a small, annoying distance. I parted my lips. “How intimate?” he whispered.

“I’m guessing a kiss in front of my family would convince them we were a couple.”

His lips gently brushed over mine. At the same time, he pulled me closer. I could feel the hardness of his torso and the obvious bulge in his trousers. I wasn’t waiting anymore. I raised my arms and wrapped them around his neck, I grabbed a handful of his collar-length hair and pushed his head towards mine. He chuckled as our lips connected fully.

If there was ever such a thing as a first class, Hollywood, leg-trembling kiss, he gave it to me.

At first his tongue was slow and tentative, as if feeling his way around gently. When I responded in kind, he grew more passionate. He crushed me to him, sliding one hand up my back and to my neck. He held me firm, practically lifting me off my feet. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, more so when his other hand slid down my back and cupped an arse cheek. He ground into me, and I moaned, digging my nails into his scalp. I felt his lips smile against mine and, annoyingly, he slowed his kiss until he eventually pulled away with just a small peck to the tip of my nose.

“Yeah,” I said breathlessly, “My parents would definitely think we’re a couple.

---ENDE DER LESEPROBE---