He leaned down, brushing his lips against her temple and spoke quietly near her ear.
“It would have been worth a much larger one, to see that smile.”
• • •
The restaurant he took her to that night was in the Mission District and was called Geb. It served Mediterranean, Egyptian, and Moroccan fare. Because Jacob knew the chef-owner, they were given a prime spot on the terrace next to an outdoor stone fireplace. Thick palms and ferns surrounded their table, making Harper feel like they were the only couple dining in the exotic setting. The chef, a man by the name of Jason Savoy, came out to the table to greet Jacob and describe his favorites on the menu.
The food was decadently good—rich and aromatic—and only added to Harper’s sensual mood. She couldn’t take her eyes off Jacob, finding him compelling and sinfully handsome in the firelight.
She asked him about the status of his meeting with Lattice lawyers and the copyright claimant to the company he wanted to buy. He talked openly about the man’s claim, and ideas his legal team had for dealing with the issue. There wasn’t a hint of suspicion toward her in his manner. She recalled how he’d been much less worried about her coming into contact with the secretary of defense in his home than Elizabeth had been. The realization that he did trust her with confidences—with certain key things, anyway—heartened her.
He wanted to know all about her meeting with Cyril and Ellie, and the progress on the film project. They were finishing their main course and laughing over one of Cyril’s many acerbic comments that afternoon, when a breeze ruffled the surrounding ferns. Harper shivered.
Jacob stood and waved for her to get up from her chair, as well. “We’ll move the table toward the fireplace. It’s going to get down in the fifties tonight, and that dress doesn’t offer a lot of protection, does it?”
She laughed at his heavy-lidded, appreciative stare at her breasts. She couldn’t wear a bra with the dress because of its cut, and the breeze had made her nipples tighten. He’d clearly noticed.
She stood and together they scooted the table and their chairs toward the fire.
“It’s nice that they have the fire lit. Labor Day weekend is usually pretty warm in San Francisco,” she said when they were seated again.
“I called and asked Jason to light it when I saw the forecast,” Jacob stated matter-of-factly. He noticed her surprised look. He reached across the table to grasp her hand. “I know how much you like a fire.”
“I do, you’re right,” she said, smiling as she looked into his eyes. The fire brought out the pinpricks of amber in them. He ran his fingertip across her palm, and she instinctively opened her hand, giving him free rein. They stared at one another for a stretched moment as he stroked her. A bubble of intimacy and security seemed to encapsulate them.
“A fire means warmth,” she murmured, “but more importantly, it means safety.”
His lambent stare went suddenly hard. His hand tightened on her wrist. “Why did you say that?”
She blinked, his question and taut grasp jerking her out of her sensual trance.
“Why did I say what?”
He leaned forward, his manner intent. Angry. Hungry?
“About the fire meaning warmth, but also safety?” he demanded.
Her mouth fell open in disbelief. She snatched her hand from his hold.
“What are you talking about?” she asked, utterly bewildered.
He didn’t reply for a moment. He just studied her with that laser stare, like he was scanning her insides. Harper mentally squirmed under that harsh examination. Almost as quickly as his mood had shifted, he seemed to bring himself under control.
“It was n
othing. I’m sorry,” he said, leaning back and smoothing his tie, his expression suddenly unreadable.
“It wasn’t nothing. Jacob?” He looked up and met her stare coolly. An uncomfortable thought swept through her. “Did . . . did what I say remind you of that other woman?”
“No. It’s not that.”
He noticed her openmouthed, stunned state.
“Harper, I’m with you. There is no other woman.”
There was something about the way he said it, with such bone-deep, forceful confidence. Still . . . she’d seen that flash in his eyes when she’d asked about the other woman, like a window that was opened just for a moment before it was slammed shut again. She couldn’t fathom the enigma of him.
“Jacob, what are you thinking right now?” Harper probed softly.