Present Day

The young, capable-looking young man that had parked Harper’s car on the night of the cocktail party was the one to come and collect her that night from her town house. Harper opened her front door before he had a chance to knock.

“Hello,” Harper said, stepping over the threshold and closing her door behind her. “It’s Jim, isn’t it?”

“That’s right,” the chauffer said, seeming pleased that she’d recalled his name.

He seated her in the backseat of a dark blue Mercedes sedan a moment later.

“Quite a hot spell we’ve been having, isn’t it?” Jim asked her politely from the front seat of the sedan as he pulled out of her complex a moment later.

“Yeah. Tahoe Shores will be packed for Labor Day, I imagine, with weather like this.”

She saw Jim nod as he drove. “Yeah, people will be arriving in droves tomorrow. The barge came today. Always a big deal this time of year.”

“Barge?” Harper asked curiously.

Jim met her gaze briefly in the rearview mirror. “The barge that will set off Mr. Latimer’s fireworks?”

She shook her head, smiling. “I’m new to Tahoe Shores. I’m not sure I know what—”

“Mr. Latimer puts off an awesome fireworks display, both on the Fourth of July and Labor Day. Everybody thinks it’s better than anything any of the local towns put on, even Reno or San Francisco. People flock to the beaches around here to see it.”

“Oh . . . that’s nice of him.”

“Yeah,” Jim chuckled at her understatement. “He’s a really generous guy. Despite it all.”

“Despite it all?” Harper asked, interested in what a young employee would actually think of Latimer. Was he referring to Jacob’s supposed shadowy past, and the potential need for him to do a lot of positive public relations and philanthropy, in order to make up for it?

“Despite all his money and everything, he’s a good guy,” Jim explained. “I didn’t know what to expect when I first drove him—Ms. Shields was the one to hire me, so I hadn’t met him until then. But he’s never been anything but nice to me. He really knows a lot about cars and engines and stuff, too, for someone so . . . you know . . .”

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 him 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.

“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.

“Jac . . . Jacob, don’t,” she squealed, snorting with laughter as they jiggled around in the water.

“Keep paddling. It’s okay. Trust me,” he murmured from just behind her.

And indeed, his exquisite balance and strength had steadied them again within seconds. He’d drawn her against him. She felt his thighs pressing against her buttocks and his full groin resting at the small of her back. His hands tightened on her hips, bringing her even closer against him. She paddled, her heart fluttering. She leaned back cautiously, a feeling of wonder going through her at the exquisite sensation of his solid, warm body behind her. For a few amazing seconds, they glided across the serene blue water, their bodies joined. But more than just their bodies, it seemed to her. It was like an ephemeral thread joined them. Every movement she made with the paddle was somehow counterbalanced by him, so that they glided in a still, subtle dance of invisible give-and-take.

She guided them around the still little cove for several minutes. She’d never been more mentally or sexually attuned to another human being as she was with Jacob in those sweet, sun-drenched moments. His hands moved on her skin as they skimmed over the surface of the crystal clear water. He caressed her hips and belly until her goose bumps disappeared and her skin smoothed beneath his fingertips. His big, sun-warmed hands radiated heat, chasing away her chill. She was intensely focused on the sensation of his cock growing heavier and longer where it pressed at the top of her ass cheeks and lower back. He brought her back against him tighter, sandwiching his erection even more snugly between them. She was so distracted by the sensation, she made the board wobble.

“Shhh,” he soothed very quietly, as though he were speaking to both her and the board itself. They smoothed in the serene water. A powerful longing rose up in her. She threw the paddle in the water.

“Hey, what the—”

“Trust me,” she interrupted. Using his solid weight to brace her from behind, she slowly, very cautiously shifted her feet on the board. She turned around in his arms. The board vibrated alarmingly beneath them, but soon she faced him as he held her elbows and forearms. She gave him a wide grin. He returned it. He urged her with his hands, and soon her front was pressed tight against his. She hugged him around the waist. She felt a tremor go through him when she crushed her breasts against his ribs. His skin rough against hers.

“That was risky,” he said, his gaze stuck on the tops of her damp breasts. “But well worth it.”

“What’s life without a little risk sometimes?” she murmured, her chin tilted up toward him. His arousal was obvious. Wonderful. Their smiles lingered on their lips as they both bobbed and balanced at the top of the water and their bodies pressed tight. The flutters in her stomach amplified when he slowly began to dip his head to kiss her.

Her heart jumped.

She heaved mightily toward the right. He gave a yell of surprise and they both crashed into the lake. When Harper surfaced, she was already grinning widely. Then she saw his expression as he surfaced. She immediately dove for the shore, snorting with laughter. He caught her ankle ten feet from shore in shallow water and jerked her backward. He hauled her against him, his sliding, poking fingertips on her ribs making her laugh even more hysterically.

“You should have seen the look on your face,” she panted between jags of laughter as they stood.

“I told you I don’t like it when I go in without meaning to,” he said with fake sternness, his smile breaking free as she squirmed and tried to get away from his tickling fingers.

“Apparently not even—oh, stop it—Jacob Latimer can control everything.”

He lifted her entire body suddenly against him and captured her mouth with his. His tongue pierced her. His mouth was hot. At first taste of him, she stopped her struggling, craning toward him, sliding her arms around his neck. Within seconds, she was melting against him.

When he broke their kiss a minute later and slowly lowered her back to her feet, he didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. His kiss had said it all. He controlled a lot of things all too easily, her response to him being one of them.

The paddles and boards had washed to shore. They retrieved them and stacked the boards on the rack without speaking. Harper wondered if he was as attuned to her as she was to him at that moment. She thought he was, but one thing was for certain. He was aroused. His erection didn’t dissipate after they’d left the water. The clingy material of his swim trunks made that fact excitingly obvious.

He took her hand and they started up the first flight of terrace stairs. Harper’s assumption was that he’d lead her to his bedroom, which was fine by her. More than fine. Something about their fragile togetherness, and then their playfulness out there on the calm, blue water had moved her. Aroused her. She experienced a strange feeling of exhilaration, a swelling happiness that she’d been given the opportunity to be with such an attractive, exciting man.

Nothing and no one could stand in the way of them being together, if it’s what the two of them chose. Why did that fact feel so liberating and precious?

She was surprised when instead of taking the next flight of steps, he led her over to one of the many circular, partially covered couch enclosures that faced the lake. He lifted the hand that held hers, urging her to enter the snug little haven of cushions. Harper crawled into the shadowed divan, turning so that she was propped up on some colorful pillows. The cupped couch offered her shade on her upper body, but her legs remained in the warm sun. Jacob crawled swiftly in after her. She smiled up at him when he relaxed next to her on the pillows, his arm going around her. She shivered as she cuddled up closer to his warmth. The view of the sun-drenched lake was stunning.

“This is nice,” she murmured, turning her face into his chest. She loved the feeling of his crinkly hair and his smooth, wet skin. He smelled good, like clean water and lingering spice. She pressed a kiss against a solid pectoral. His hand cupped the back of her head. Her lips moved, charting his chest, seeking new, delightful sensations. His hand ran down her shoulder and arm, and she shivered.

“Here,” he murmured. She lifted her head when he shifted slightly. He reached for an afghan that had been folded in the enclosure. He opened it and drew it around her shoulders.

“Only I’d get cold when it’s seventy-five degrees out,” she muttered when he relaxed back on the pillows and put his arm around her.

“The water is cold and there’s a breeze.” His hand went between the opening of the afghan and slid to her back. She felt him pull on the tie of the bikini top. A moment later, he lifted the piece of fabric over her head and tossed it to the far side of the cushioned enclosure. His hand snaked again beneath the blanket.

“Jacob, no,” she murmured when he calmly started to remove the bikini briefs.

His brows went up. “Why?”

“I’m not going to lie here naked. It’s broad daylight. Your staff will see me.”

He glanced behind them in the direction of the house. The wicker back of the circular couch enclosed them. It was the shape of a cupped hand that had been tilted back slightly. The edge of the back came down several inches above their heads. “No one can see from that direction,” he reasoned.

“What about the view from the lake from a boat?”

He looked vaguely exasperated. “Fine. But I’m still going to do what I set out to do.”

“What’d you set out to do?” she asked, watching him in amazement as he slid his long body further down the cushion, lowering his head to her chest.

“Warm you up a little,” he said, before he nuzzled the bare skin at the opening of the blanket. She watched him as he ran his nose and lips over the skin between her breasts. He twisted his head, his mouth trailing across a pale globe. She tingled beneath his warm lips.

“That was your intent in bringing me here?” she asked amusedly.

He glanced up at her briefly, his eyes smoldering. “Actually, my primary intent was to accept the invitation of these”—he glanced down at her breasts—“after all that flaunting you were doing out there.”

She gave a bark of laughter and slapped his damp back playfully. “I wasn’t flaunting anything. It’s the only swimsuit that fit me. Is it my fault you made me crawl around on that damn board and make a fool of myself?”

“This swimsuit doesn’t fit you,” he replied deadpan. “It’s a size too small, fortunately for me.” He dipped his head and ran the short, silky hair of his goatee across the pale globe of her breast. Her smile evaporated. Her nipple was still covered by the blanket, but it would fall away at the lightest touch. She licked her lower lip, watching him like a hawk.

“You stopped shivering,” he said, still running his chin over her sensitive skin. “See, I wasn’t entirely selfish. I knew if I played with you for a while, you’d warm up. Just relax, Harper. Enjoy the view.” He lifted his hand and deliberately moved the blanket off her breast, exposing a pink nipple. He gave a small growl of appreciation, and then dipped his head, sucking her between his lips. Her skin was chilled.

His mouth was hot.

Harper stared blindly out onto the shimmering water as he laved her nipple with his tongue and drew on her with the sweetest precision. Her hand went instinctively to his head. She delved her fingers into his thick, damp hair and sighed in pleasure. After a moment, however, he lifted his head and spoke to her tersely.

“Put your hands on the cushions behind your head.” He watched her take the position, his face shadowed and his eyelids heavy. She stared back at him, her arms stretched above her head, her hands close together, palms outward. For a few seconds, he remained motionless.

Then he reached between his thighs and fisted his cock, giving it a firm tug. He grimaced and let go. A small snarl shaped his mouth before he leaned down, and sucked her nipple into his mouth again.

She lay there for several minutes, awash in pleasure, while he sucked and fondled her. Her breasts grew flushed, the nipples hard and achy.

He lifted his head, both of her breasts in his hands, and licked the valley between them. “Sweet. Sweat. Mission accomplished,” he said, a triumphant, sexy-as-hell smile curving his mouth.

She shook her head at his cockiness, but she was smiling, too, unable to disguise the truth. He’d not only warmed her. He’d turned her into a hot, sticky mush of arousal.

She glanced aside when he reached to the side of her. He grabbed the discarded bikini top and looped the top strings over her head.

“Time to go,” he said, and she saw his playful smile had faded.

“Where?” she asked, even though she knew the answer by reading the rigid tension in his face.

“My bedroom terrace. You can keep enjoying the view from there. But this time, I’m going to have you while you’re doing it.”

The drapes had been partially drawn in his bedroom suite, making the air feel cool and pleasant against Harper’s flushed, tingling skin. Her feet slowed when they neared his big, luxurious bed, but he didn’t pause. He tugged on her hand, and she followed him to the circular bank of floor-to-ceiling windows. One of the doors to the terrace was open. An evening breeze was causing the white curtain to billow inward. They went through the door. The sweeping terrace led up to a waist-high, wrought-iron-constructed fence that blocked little of the fantastic view of the lake and the surrounding mountains. There were several comfortable seating areas and potted plants arranged on the balcony.

Jacob turned toward her. He brushed back her damp hair and planted a kiss on her temple.

“I’m going to restrain you,” he said, brushing his lips across her hairline and ear. She shivered in unfurling excitement. “Is that all right?”

“Out here?” she asked shakily, lifting her chin and whisking her mouth across his jawline.

“Yes.”

“But . . . how is this an improvement on fooling around on the downstairs terrace?”

“I told you that my personal quarters are completely private.”

“But a boat from the lake . . .”

He met her stare, and she saw he wore a hint of that smile that always undid her. “No one is going to see anything. No one but me,” he added pointedly. “When are you going to start trusting me?”

“I trust you far too much as it is.”

“Are you going to let me show you what I have in mind? You can always say no.”

“Can I at least have a drink first?”

A rough bark of laughter scraped his throat. She smiled at the unexpectedness of his flash of humor.

“You’ve called me out. I’m a shit host. Wait here.”

She walked over to the wrought iron fence while she waited, breathing in the fresh scent of the surrounding pines and trying to dampen her mounting anticipation. She blinked, startled, when he was suddenly standing next to her, a glass of champagne in his hand. He was as silent as a ghost. She took the champagne gratefully.

“I’ll be right back,” he said. His gaze dipped from her face to the champagne flute. “Drink up while you can.”

Her brows went up at that. She watched him as he went back inside, admiring his broad shoulders and the shape of his ass in the swim trunks. Excitement bubbled up in her. Wasn’t this exactly what she’d bargained for with him? A thrilling sexual affair, a wholesale distraction from the gray grief that had swallowed up her life recently? She glanced around her, seeing a world of luxury, beauty, and brilliant, blinding color. Her breasts and sex ached pleasantly with the knowledge of the pleasure and challenge to come.

He was delivering, in spades. The least she could do was try to return the favor. She swallowed half the contents of the flute, the clean, crisp taste and effervescence only amplifying her anxious arousal.

She was glad for the rush conferred by the delicious champagne when he backed out of the door a moment later and turned, and she saw what he carried. It looked a little like a sitting massage chair, but there were more hinges and movable parts, and some of the cushions on it weren’t in typical places.

Definitely in different places, Harper thought when she saw that the place where a person would prop their legs had been split so that their thighs could be kept open. There were other variations from a sitting massage chair. There were straps hanging from the leg portion and below the cushion where a person would rest their forearms and hands. Instead of the donut cushion where one usually placed their face during a massage, there was a narrow chin pad that curved upward, like a thin crescent.

He set down the contraption in front of the fence ten feet away from her. He turned in her direction. Harper downed the rest of her champagne, set the flute on a nearby table, and walked toward him.

“That looks like something from a torture chamber,” she said, attempting levity to hide her nerves.

“It’s not. It’s meant for pleasure.”

“Yours or mine?”

“Ideally, both. But its intention is to give me complete control.”

Her heart starting to thrum in her ears, she glanced warily at the black metal movable parts and cushions.

“You don’t have to do it,” he said.

“I know,” she replied.

“I set it up here, because the design is thicker on the fence here,” he said, pointing to the wrought iron design of intertwining branches. “It’ll be enough to hide you, should anyone pass in a boat and happen to be staring, but it’s open enough that you’ll still be able to enjoy the view.”

“Like I’ll be paying attention to the view,” she scoffed under her breath.

She looked up when he stepped closer and his long finger brushed against the skin below her chin. His eyes shone, looking especially golden in the evening light. She stared up at him, spellbound.

“It’ll excite me to have you in this chair. I think it’ll excite you, too. But it’s your call.”

She nodded, swallowing thickly. She turned toward the chair.

“How . . . how do I get on it?”

“First, let’s get this off you,” he murmured, and she felt his fingers slip beneath the ties of her bikini at her back. Remembering what he’d told her about always wanting to undress her, she stood without moving as he drew the bikini top off her. He knelt and pulled the snug briefs down over her ass and thighs. She paused in the process of stepping out of the bikini bottoms when she felt his hand spread just above her knee. He swept it up, over her outer thigh, hip, and the side of her ass in a warm, greedy caress.

“You’re so pretty, Harper.”

Her mouth fell open. He’d said something similar to her several times before. It wasn’t the compliment a sophisticated, worldly playboy gave a woman. She realized that for the first time. It was the kind of compliment that came from an awestruck boy.

“What?” he asked, and he was towering over her again, a big, powerful figure, his outline blocking the setting sun. He’d noticed the look of wonder and puzzlement on her face.

“We . . . we haven’t met before, have we? I mean . . . before Tahoe?” she asked.

His eyelids narrowed.

“Why? Do you think we have?”

She blinked, and the moment of déjà vu faded. She laughed at her stupidity. What she’d told him the other night was true. If she’d ever met Jacob Latimer, she’d remember it. In spades.

“No,” she admitted.

How could she possibly imagine that Jacob Latimer was remotely similar to a boy? Why did his presence keep calling up that sweet, poignant sadness of her early teenage years . . . the regret? Was it the loss of her parents and memories of her childhood inspiring it?

He stepped closer. “Harper, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she whispered, shaking off the spell. She didn’t want to think about her losses. Not now. “I’m ready.”

She saw him nod once, but thought a vague expression of suspicion or curiosity lingered on his face. He took one of her hands and guided her to the chair.

“Straddle the seat first, then slide one leg into position while you keep standing on the other foot.”

He braced her while she did what he instructed, her heartbeat starting a steady drumroll in her ears.

“Now sit.”

It wasn’t like sitting, in any normal sense of the word. The center cushions supported her both from below and from the front. When she came to rest, she was tilted forward at a forty-five degree angle. Her lower belly and hips pressed against the abdomen cushion, but the lower pelvic cushion took most of her weight. Her sex pressed at the juncture of both. Once in place, it was only natural to place her elbows on the forward cushion and rest her forearms. Her shoulders were supported by two small cushions. She hesitated, but then slid her chin into the upward-curving crescent.

It was almost scandalous, how comfortable the contraption was.

She felt Jacob’s hand on her free lower leg and he lifted it onto the apparatus. A moment later, she felt the padded straps go around each ankle and tighten. Then he came around to the front. She stared at his crotch as he quickly restrained her wrists. Heat rushed through her cheeks and sex. The height of the apparatus had clearly been matched to his—Jacob’s—body.

He stepped closer, his crotch coming within inches of her face. Her eyes widened. He placed both of his hands at her temples and smoothed back her damp hair, gathering it at her nape. He swept the tresses over her shoulder, getting it off her back.

“You’re comfortable?” he murmured, sliding his warm hands along her bare back.

“Yes,” she managed in a choked voice. She shivered at the feeling of his skin gliding against hers.

“You’re still cold.”

“No—”

“I think I’ve got something that can help with that.”

Her brain whirred in nonstop anxiety and excitement while he was out of her vision, but he probably had only left her side for a few seconds. He came up next to her—again, silently. The snap of a container opening alerted her to his presence. Because of the chin crescent, she couldn’t turn her head and alleviate her anxiety. She could have lifted her chin out of it, of course, and turned her head. But it excited her to imagine that even her head was restrained.

She felt movement on the skin just above her ass. The cloth of his swim trunks? Yes. He’d straddled the entire bench with long legs, and her body along with it.

“Jacob?” she asked uncertainly.

“Shhh,” he murmured. He placed both of his big hands on either side of her spine. Warmth emanated from his hands and soaked into her muscles. He began to massage her back, spreading oil on her skin. It felt divine.

“Oh . . . it’s warm. It feels so good,” she said.

“Then it’s doing what it’s supposed to do, on both counts.”

His hands were so big. He shaped her muscles to his palms, squeezing out the tension she experienced from accepting the challenge of being restrained to the apparatus. She moaned softly when his hands shifted, and he massaged along her shoulder blades.

“You could do this for a living,” she muttered after a stretched moment, her eyelids fluttering closed.

“You think?” he asked quietly. She sensed him step forward slightly as his hands smoothed and shaped the muscles beneath her shoulder blades. “It might be considered kind of unethical if I did something like this, though.” His hands slid down below her armpits, and he was massaging her suspended bare breasts in his warm, lubricated hands. Her eyelids sprang open, and she was staring at the blue lake through the leaf design of the wrought iron fence. She wasn’t really seeing, though. Just feeling. His palms continued to massage her while his thumb and forefinger pinched her nipples lightly. The oil amplified her pleasure. A heavy, achy feeling suffused her sex.

He lowered his hands, cradling her rib cage, and then swept them up over her breasts again, lifting and massaging them. It aroused her, as always, his show of controlled, yet blatant, greed.

“Jacob,” she panted. He slid his hands lower again, holding her rib cage so surely, her very heart in his hands. Was that why he did it? she wondered. To exhibit his complete mastery over her mind and body? She was glad when he cupped her heaving breasts again.

“Are you getting warmer?” He ran his fingertips over her beading nipples, rubbing the warming lubricant into them until they tingled and grew diamond-hard.

“Hotter,” she admitted throatily.

He tapped her erect nipples lightly with his palm, the taut sensation making her whimper. “God you’re responsive. Your nipples get so hard,” she heard him mutter thickly as he pinched the crests again with his fingertips. Harper squirmed against the seat cushions. Suddenly, he grasped both of her breasts firmly in his hands.

“Hold still.”

Holding her breasts, he bent his knees and flexed his hips. He pushed the rigid column of his cock up her spine, then down, then back up it again. He ground his balls against her. Through the fabric of his swim trunks, he felt heavy and swollen and delicious. Then he was gone.

“Pussy-tease,” she mumbled in a beleaguered fashion.

He laughed, the smooth, rich sound washing over her sensitized skin. Where had he gone? She couldn’t feel him anymore, straddling her, but she sensed he was still behind her. Then he spoke.

“I’m going to move the apparatus some. You’ll still be very secure.”

There was a metallic sound. He was turning a rotor of some kind, causing the apparatus to spread her legs even wider. She could feel her sex and even her buttocks parting, the air tickling at her wet, aroused tissues. A moment later, the entire apparatus began to tilt downward. Her head dipped and her bottom rose. Soon, she was staring wide-eyed not at the sunset waters of Lake Tahoe, but the bottom of the wrought iron fence and the edge of the tigerwood flooring. She held her breath. It was a little humiliating, being mechanically manipulated in order to expose her most private areas. It was also embarrassingly arousing.

The metallic whirring stopped. She was suspended in midair on her belly at a downward slant, her ass higher than her head, her legs spread wide. Her clit twanged in sharp arousal, despite her vulnerability. She felt movement at her pelvis. The seat where her pelvis had rested, which had been weight bearing before he’d tilted her downward, jiggled slightly. It slipped away, leaving her entire sex exposed.

“Jacob?” she asked shakily.

He placed his hand on the back of her thigh. “I’m here.”

With no further warning, he plunged a finger in her sheath and cupped her outer sex, grinding the hard edge of his palm against her clit. Keeping his finger inserted, he circled his hand.

“Oh . . . oh God, Jacob,” popped out of her throat.

“If there’s one thing I’m not, it’s a tease. I’ll always come through, Harper.”

She bit her lip, too swept up in hot lust to respond. Through a haze of pleasure, she faintly heard the click of a bottle opening, and then the sensation of warm liquid streaming onto her ass. She lay there, gasping and moaning in pleasure, as he rubbed the oil into her ass with one squeezing, shaping hand and continued to grind his other hand against her sex in the most demanding, eye-crossing manner.

“No need for any of the oil in your pussy,” she heard him say gruffly. “You’re so creamy.” He withdrew his finger and plunged it back into her, demonstrating his point with a fluid glide. He circled his hand demandingly, the pressure on her clit divine. Heat rushed into her cheeks. Her feet began to burn in sympathy with her clit. He squeezed an ass cheek tautly, lifting it, and slid his finger out of her channel. He pressed the ridge of his forefinger between her labia, rubbing her clit hard. She cried out raggedly.

“You look gorgeous right now,” she heard him say gruffly through the roar in her ears. “Your skin is gleaming, and your hair is like shining copper in the sun. You can’t escape, can you Harper?”

“No,” she mumbled, nearly mindless with arousal. “I don’t want to, Jacob.”

“You want to come, don’t you? You want to lie there and come, and then have my cock in you. You want to be fucked hard. Say it.”

“Yes. Oh God, I want your cock in me.”

“I brought out a towel,” he said, his voice sounding very grim. “I’m going to have you and then come on your beautiful body. If I can’t leave myself in you, then I’ll leave myself on you. It’s all going to be for me, Harper.”

His tense proclamation sent her hurtling over the edge. She choked as she broke in climax. Her entire body shuddered.

His cockhead was suddenly pushing at her entrance. He drove into her to the balls. Her brain seemed to overload at the sensation. Her climax racked her. It hurt a little, coming so hard against his big, pounding cock. It also felt sinfully hot. So good. She came back to herself at the sound of screaming. It took her a moment to realize it was her making the frantic sound. She cut herself off, only to inhale choppily, and let out another groan.

His hands were on her hips, his thumbs digging into her buttocks. He was fucking her hard and fast from tip to balls, his pelvis smacking against her wet, open sex. Slowly, her vision cleared. He continued without pause and with thorough, ruthless precision, rattling her body. Her world. This was his show, all right. He rocked her in a harsh, taut rhythm and she made a chuffing sound every time he pounded his cock into her. He was fucking her for his pleasure, and his alone.

The thought aroused her. She stopped struggling to return a counterstroke to his thrusts. The restraining apparatus made it nearly impossible, anyway. Her sex tightened instinctively around him, craving every stroke. She longed to see him as he dominated her, losing himself as he took full possession.

“That’s right,” she heard him say darkly from behind her. “Just give in to it. There’s nothing for you to do but take me, is there?”

“No,” she admitted. There was nothing else she wanted to do, but even so . . . the blatant knowledge of her helplessness aroused. She was too wound up in the intense eroticism of the moment to decode why that was.

A moment later, he groaned and drew his cock out of her. She whimpered shakily at the unpleasant feeling of aching emptiness. She lay there panting, her eyes wide-open, strung tight on a rack of anticipation.

A low growl reached her ears.

“Jacob,” she mouthed, unbearably excited.

Then she felt it, the sensation of his warm semen dripping on her lower back. She bit off a sharp cry, her sex clenching tight. She pictured him in her mind, pumping his cock as fiercely and ruthlessly as he had that night in the pool shower, his beautiful body coiled tight, his expression hard and determined.

More warm liquid pooled at her lower back, the amount of it exciting her, like everything else. Then she felt the firm, succulent head of his dripping cock press against her left buttock, and more of his semen wetted her.

He gave one last throat-tearing groan.

His cock slipped off her ass. She moaned shakily, arousal cutting at her. Her cheeks were scalding and tension coiled tight in her sex. She’d loved having him use her for his pleasure. Why, she couldn’t put into words exactly. Strangely, despite his opulent wealth and power and sex appeal, she felt deep inside that he deserved this indulgence. She wanted to give it to him. She might as well start to accept that fact.

He didn’t speak as he dried her skin with the towel. Nor did he say a word when he reached between her thighs again. He must have known that his seemingly selfish taking of her had aroused her unbearably.

He brought her off twice more while she was restrained to the apparatus.

One thing about Jacob. He demanded a lot of her.

But he always returned exponentially.