Chapter Twelve
Gabby blinked her eyes open, orienting herself. She was on Annalisa’s plane, still in bed, naked. With Jake.
She smiled and rolled over. She’d finally spent the whole night with a man she’d had sex with, and she looked forward to the morning-after routine she’d only read about in books or seen in movies.
But the bed was empty. Jake was nowhere to be found. Figured. Her one and only opportunity to experience morning sex was not to be had. But the night before made up for that. The first time had been great, all about her, but then Jake let her make love to him. When she’d touched him at first, he’d fisted his hands in the sheets. But after a few minutes, he’d smiled and relaxed a little, so that had been progress. And a whole lot of fun to see how much pleasure she’d given him. Her new goal would be to get him to agree to both of them touching at the same time, not just one or the other. That is, if they ever got the chance to make love again. Who knew what the days ahead would bring?
She threw the covers back and headed for the shower. Annalisa’s plane was the nicest she’d ever been on. And her bathroom, if still a tad small, didn’t skimp on luxury. She looked forward to using the salon hair products she’d seen earlier in the shower.
She checked the time, amazed she’d slept so long, and then opened a shade to see where they were. Still over the ocean with the lowering sun shining off the waves below. Beautiful. But she needed to hurry and get ready. They’d be landing in a little over an hour.
When she stepped out of the bedroom, dressed in jeans and sneakers, Jake was at the desk in the main cabin, studying the computer screen intently. He looked so handsome, dressed in his button-down shirt and jeans, but weirdly she missed his cowboy boots.
Still so happy about the night they’d shared, she wanted to wrap her arms around his shoulders and give him a hug but didn’t want to push his boundaries. She’d done plenty of that the night before. “Good morning.”
He looked up from the computer and grinned. “Hey. ’Bout time you woke up. Ready for breakfast? I’m starving.” Without waiting for her answer, he called out. “We’re ready to eat now.”
Monica appeared. “Be right out.”
When the attendant disappeared into the galley, Jake stood, slowly lifted his hands, and then laid them on her shoulders. “Last night was fantastic, Gabby.” He gently squeezed.
“Best night ever.” She’d have preferred the hug, but if that was the best Jake could do, she’d take it. Dani had warned her that he wasn’t good at expressing himself physically. He’d probably snuck out of bed so she wouldn’t roll over and accidentally cuddle with him. “You didn’t have to wait to eat.”
“A little credit here, please. I patiently worked on my waiting-for-women skills the whole time you slept and then primped.”
“My hero.” She never primped. It’d taken her all of twenty minutes, and her hair was still damp, although it smelled lovely. Like flowers and exotic spices.
She headed for the bin where her backpack was stowed and sat. “I need to check my e-mail. Hopefully, everyone got back to me while we’ve been in the air.”
“Yeah. We need a plan.” Jake sat in a big club chair across from her and stared out the window, his knee jiggling up and down.
She laid a hand on his leg to still it. “We’re almost there. You’re doing great.”
He took her hand and weaved his fingers through hers, probably because it was bugging him to have it on his knee, and then laid a soft kiss on her knuckles. “Being with you helps.”
That made her heart soar. “You’re a pretty good time, too.” She’d miss him terribly after their month in the cabin was up. But one problem at a time. She needed to focus on the task at hand.
She shook off her sadness and powered her phone on, then quickly logged in to her e-mail account. Her father had left a message. But not the information about Dean, as promised.
Tires slowed us down, but on the way now. Drive from Paris to give me time to catch up, please. I’ll fill you in on Dean after you tell me where you’re staying in London.
She wasn’t sure she should tell him. “Jake. Remember the stuff I couldn’t tell you last night about my father?”
He whipped his attention from the window to her. “Yeah.”
Cindy appeared with their breakfast. “Would you like it here or at the dining table?”
“Here, please.” He lifted their tables from the sides of the big leather chairs for her to set everything out. “Thanks.”
Gabby waited until they were alone and then said, “I ran into my father last night at the airport. He wanted to take me home, but when I resisted, he let me go. I can’t figure out why he’s allowing us to chase Dean when he thinks it’s so dangerous for me to be involved. He’s going to be in London later and asked if we’d drive, so he can catch up. He said he’s going to be nearby and watching us.”
Jake dropped his fork filled with cheese omelet onto the china plate with a clatter. “He was thirty yards away?” He stood and paced the cabin back and forth, muttering something about criminals needing to be behind bars.
She waited for him to have his moment and then said, “It doesn’t add up. Right?”
Jake leaned down, put his hands on the sides of her chair, and opened his mouth to speak, but then stopped. He closed his eyes for a moment, as if reeling his temper in, then sat beside her again. “No, it doesn’t make sense your father would let you go.”
Jake shook his head, picked up his fork, and stuffed his mouth full of eggs. Evidently, that was all he was going to say on the subject, so she took a bite of her eggs and checked her phone.
“Oh. Will left me a voice mail.” She hit the speaker and laid the phone on her tray.
“Gabby, so glad you called. Dean’s in trouble. I’m in London trying to decipher a crazy map to find a statue and trade it for his life. I need your help. Please call me as soon as you can!”
Jake’s right brow spiked as he dug into his hash browns. When he began calmly buttering his toast, she wanted to scream.
“So? What do you think?”
He added some jam. “Heard from your friend from London? Charlie, wasn’t it?”
“Let me look.” She hadn’t checked her regular e-mail. She’d been avoiding it, but now that her father knew her plans, it wouldn’t matter. She called up her account and scrolled through the junk until she found what she was looking for.
For time’s sake, she read the e-mail out loud.
Gabs, the love of my life! Too long since we’ve had a chance for a chat. Or had a fun sleepover. What the hell are you doing mixed up in this steaming pile of shite? Everyone is after those statues. Especially some blue bloods, second or third cousins to the queen. They claim both statues belong to them. Some gift from the king of Spain in the day. They thought they’d lost them during the war. Call me the minute you hit town. Can’t wait to catch up, gorgeous!
Both of Jake’s brows lifted as he finished his toast. “Fun sleepover?”
“Seriously? After the barrage of new information, that’s what you comment on first?” Jeez. She and Charlie were just friends. “My dad said he’d send what he knows about Dean but asked where we’re staying first. What do we do?”
“The love of his life?” Jake frowned as he finished off his eggs.
“Focus, please.” She shook her head and dug into her eggs and hash browns, nearly groaning with pleasure. She’d been starving, too, but hadn’t realized it.
Jake wiped his mouth on his linen napkin and then set it down. “Don’t want to drive to London. Paparazzi know it’s Annalisa’s plane landing and will follow us. We need someone else to book us a ride. Would your boyfriend send a chopper for us? That is, if I’d be invited, too?”
The scowl on his face made her smile. Jake was jealous. She shouldn’t love that so much, but she was only human. “I can ask. Or we could always tell him you’re my butler or something.”
“Your butler?” Jake stood and stalked down the aisle to the bedroom. The door closed firmly behind him.
Pissy Jake was new. But she couldn’t blame him. One of the most wanted men in America had been yards away. The cop in him had to be struggling with that. Charlie’s e-mail hadn’t helped.
She’d give Jake a few minutes to get ready and then talk to him. In the meantime, she finished her breakfast and then sent an e-mail to Charlie, asking for the chopper. She wanted to call Will back but didn’t want to do that without talking to Jake first. She stood to find him just as Cindy announced they were starting their descent into France and should be on the ground in forty minutes.
She slowly stepped inside the bedroom and, when she didn’t see Jake, headed for the open bathroom door. Jake stood in nothing but a towel, shaving. The view was incredibly sexy, so she leaned against the frame to watch. “Charlie’s not my boyfriend. I haven’t seen him in years. We’re e-mail buddies.”
“Good.” He glanced her way. “Have a seat. Here’s what I think we should do.”
Seemed his jealous moment was over.
The only seat was the toilet lid, so she squeezed behind Jake, squelching the urge to give his nice butt a pat—she didn’t want him to flinch and cut himself—and sat. “Shoot.”
For Jake, being in a chopper was about as fun as being buried alive. Thankfully, it was almost over. The airport lights were in sight. He reminded himself to breathe. And to be nice to the Charlie guy who was picking them up. “When are we meeting Will?”
Gabby, annoyingly calm, smiled as she stared out the window at the English countryside below. “He’ll meet us at Annalisa’s home in Mayfair after we get back from dinner. Charlie suggested going to our favorite place to eat whenever we were in town on university breaks.”
Our favorite place? “Maybe we should just go to the house. Keep a low profile? I’m sure Annalisa’s chef will whip something up for us.”
She tore her face away from the view she’d been admiring and blinked at him. “No one knows we’re coming or who we are . . . yet. I think we’ll be fine, don’t you? Besides, it’s a really fun place. I think you’ll like it.”
He decidedly would not like Gabby beaming those big brown eyes at another man. But they had to eat, and Gabby seemed excited, so he’d go along with the plan. “Fine. But no messing around. We eat and then we’re out. Got it?”
“It’s called ‘messing about’ here. And I’m going to ignore that bossy tone and hope it improves. Looks like we’re here.”
The chopper took a final spin and then landed on the tarmac. Thank God. He wiped the sweat from his upper lip and willed the big guy approaching the chopper to hurry and open the door so he could breathe again.
When the door finally opened, Gabby let out a yelp. “Charlie!” Her body flew into arms that could be mistaken for tree trunks covered by leather. The guy was rich according to Gabby, so he probably didn’t have anything else to do other than going to the gym.
Charlie, smiling as if he’d just won the lottery, said, “You look amazing, Gabs. And I love your new hair.”
While the two of them admired each other, Jake picked up Gabby’s two-ton backpack, grabbed his gear, and hopped out of the coffin they’d spent the last eighty-two minutes in. He scanned the private airport, checking for unwanted company, but the place was deserted. Just a few hangars stood open, and a bunch of tied-down small planes lined up like soldiers waiting for their orders. All very tidy and neat. Sort of like Gabby and her English habits.
After the hugs and kisses—on the mouth, no less—Gabby finally turned and smiled. With her arms still filled with the bodybuilder, she said, “Jake, I’d like you to meet Charles Weathersby the Third. He knows almost as much as I do about archaeology.”
Great. Should make for scintillating conversation. He stuck out his hand. “Nice to meet you, Chuck.”
He laughed. “No one has called me that since this one here.” He gave Gabby another squeeze. “Must be an American thing, right?”
“Yeah. Must be. Maybe we should get going?”
“Right! I’ll just pop your bags into the boot, and then we’re off. Load up, you two.”
Jake opened the back door of a black Range Rover and stepped aside to let Gabby in first, but she’d already climbed into the front seat. So he’d sit in the back and admire the backs of their brown heads, which oddly matched the fine leather.
The car smelled brand-new. He usually loved the smell of new leather. Today, not so much.
After Chuckie III had joined them, he and Gabby started reminiscing in archaeology speak, so Jake tuned out their chatter and concentrated on their plans as he watched to see if they’d been followed.
Gabby’s father should be in town soon and knew where they’d be staying because Gabby had told him. He had his own agenda, or he’d have locked her up and thrown away the key again. And the people who had Dean might be following Will, so they needed to stay alert. Well, he did anyway. Gabby was too busy laughing and squeezing her buddy’s forearm with each new story Charlie told, in his quiet, sophisticated British accent, of how their classmates had turned out.
Gabby used to run with a fancy crowd. Did she find Jake too . . . basic? Just a blue-collar cop, whose arm she avoided touching when she laughed because he’d flinch every time she did?
Maybe sleeping with her had been a mistake. It had made him want to be with her even more. The “spend every day” kind of be with her. A dangerous desire when the chances of her ditching her father and being with him were slim. Her first allegiance would always be with her father, the criminal.
He glanced over his shoulder again, and a familiar blue car was still behind them. “Hey, Charlie? Do you see that blue sedan behind us?”
Charlie’s eyes narrowed in the rearview mirror. “I’ve had company ever since I inquired about your statues, Gabby. Whatever have you dragged me into?” Charlie smiled at her, not seeming the least bit concerned.
Which concerned Jake.
Charlie reached out and took Gabby’s hand. “Darling, would it be a terrible disappointment if we had a change of plans?”
Before Gabby could answer, Charlie swerved a hard left and floored it. He still held Gabby’s hand in his as their tires screamed around the corner. They sped down a road so narrow Jake hoped no one decided to get out of their car at that moment or they’d be dead.
He kept watch behind as Charlie continued to drive like a man who wasn’t riding in his first rodeo. He turned around and called out from the back, “What is it you do, Charlie?”
Chuckie’s eyes met Jake’s in the mirror. “Art dealer. And you?”
“Jake is a cowboy,” Gabby answered for him. “Bet you never met one of those before.”
Charlie’s eyes were back on Jake’s reflection again. “No. I can’t say as I have. Is that a real thing still?”
Gabby turned and widened her eyes in a plea to play along. She was going to have some serious explaining to do later. He answered, “Ranching is popular where I come from. Cattle, horses, the whole works.”
“Ah. I see.” He returned his gaze to the road ahead, not sounding the least bit convinced.
Charlie didn’t look like a fancy art dealer. Not with those muscles. And his driving skills could challenge Jake’s. “I think we lost them. Why don’t we go to Annalisa’s house, and you can tell me all about selling art over dinner, Chuck?”
Gabby frowned at him but gave Charlie the address. “A guy named Will, my boss’s brother, is going to meet us there. He loves archaeology, and I thought you might want to help us solve something of a riddle. You were always quite good at that at university, remember?”
Quite good at that? Gabby’s English accent was back. She was nervous about something. Something she was hiding from him.
As they pulled up to the garages at the rear of Annalisa’s house, two guards he recognized from home lifted their chins in greeting as they checked their IDs. He gave them a heads-up that Will was coming later, too, and asked them to keep an eye out. Then they were led inside, and their bags were whisked away upstairs.
A woman dressed in stern black directed them to a living room so fancy it could make the cover of a magazine. She promised to return with refreshments. Who knew what that would entail, but probably not a beer. Charlie and Gabby were still connected at the hip like Siamese twins, with their arms around each other.
A suspicious bulge at Charlie’s lower back caught his attention. A gun? Why would Gabby’s friend be carrying a concealed weapon? In a country with strict gun laws? He didn’t want to wait for an explanation. Gabby could be in danger.
Jake lunged forward, grabbed Charlie’s gun, and pressed it firmly into his kidney while he twisted the art dealer’s free arm up his back. “Gabby, step away. Charlie and I need to have a little chat.”
Gabby turned around. “Jake. Stop. He’s going to help us.”
He marched Charlie toward the couch and shoved him. “Sit. And start talking. Why does a law-abiding English art dealer carry a gun?”
Charlie righted himself and then brushed the wrinkles from his suit pants. “He’s either stronger than he looks or very well trained for a cowboy, isn’t he, Gabby?” He chuckled and met Jake’s stare. “I’m afraid Gabby hasn’t been on the up-and-up with either of us, mate. But I pose neither you nor Gabby any harm.”
Jake glanced at Gabby, who was chewing a thumbnail. She turned to Charlie and said, “Jake was a cowboy, but now he’s a detective.” Then she turned his way. “Charlie deals in artifacts, has a store to prove it, but not all of what he does is necessarily something I’d like to share with my boyfriend the cop. I should have told you both the truth, but I was afraid neither of you would help me if you knew what the other did. And I really need you both.”
Jake ran a hand down his face and sucked in a deep breath for patience. Another criminal he wasn’t supposed to bust. It was getting tedious. But at least she’d called him “my boyfriend the cop” in front of the crooked art dealer, so that was something. What the hell had he gotten himself into? “Gabby, look—”
“Please, Jake?”
When she smiled at him, dimples blazing, he handed the gun back to Charlie and then headed for the kitchen. “I’m going to see about dinner.”
Charlie called out. “No dinner for me. I have to take care of something. Be back in a few hours.”
Good. Then he had Gabby all to himself. “You two work out any details I shouldn’t know about, please. And when you get back, we’ll talk about finding those damned statues. Legally!”
He turned down a long hallway, and after passing a study filled with more books than a person could read in a lifetime, he found the kitchen. A man actually dressed like a chef, with the tall hat and everything, bowed his head slightly. “Mr. Morris, I presume. Annalisa asked me to prepare anything you wish. But she told me you enjoy steaks, baked potatoes, and, of course, chocolate cheesecake for dessert. If you’d like to go dress for dinner, I’ll be happy to serve it within the hour.”
Dress for dinner? Jake looked down at his sweats and tennis shoes. Maybe he should get cleaned up. If he was going to compete with Charlie for Gabby, he’d better wear the suit he’d brought. “That sounds great. Thanks.”
After Charlie left, promising to be back soon, Gabby wandered around the big house, finally locating the dining room. Jake stood at the end of the table, his phone in hand, scrolling through messages. He looked so handsome in a dark suit, gray striped tie, and white starched shirt; she’d be willing to skip dinner and make a meal out of him upstairs. “Don’t you look debonair? I’d better go change.”
Jake’s head whipped up and he smiled. “No need.” He pulled out a chair at the head of the table for her. “You look gorgeous no matter what you wear.”
“Thank you.” She sat in the chair, and he helped her scoot it closer.
Then he sat in the chair beside her. “Dinner will be ready soon. Want some wine?” He held up a bottle of red. “I asked them for the best Annalisa had.”
She laid her napkin across her jean-clad lap, feeling totally underdressed in the fancy dining room that sat twenty. “Isn’t that kind of rude?”
He shook his head and poured. “She’ll expect us to use it. She thinks I’m going to propose to you tonight.”
Propose?
She opened her mouth, but words wouldn’t come out.
He laid the bottle down and picked up his glass. “I see you’re as surprised by that as I was when Dani told me the ruse. She told her mom that so we could use the plane. But why not enjoy it while we can? Cheers?”
After her heart rate had slowed a bit, she tapped her glass against his. “Saluti.” She took a deep drink and nearly moaned at the rich and fruity elixir that danced on her tongue. “Wow. That’s incredible.”
“It is.” Jake took her free hand. “And so are you. Have I told you how beautiful you are, Gabby?”
Many times. Jake was acting a little weird. “You’re looking pretty nice yourself. I love the suit. But you didn’t have to go to all that trouble for me.”
“No trouble.” He lifted her hand and nibbled on her fingers. “I’d do just about anything for you, Gabby.”
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you really were going to propose to me.” She withdrew her hand. “What did you do with the real Jake?”
He leaned closer. “The real Jake has many sides. This is my James Bond look. The blond guy, not the original one.”
She laughed. “The smart-mouthed cowboy version is kinda fun, too.”
Their food appeared before them, so she leaned back and thanked their server. After he was gone, she picked up her knife and cut into a tender piece of steak. “This looks amazing.”
Jake frowned as he chewed.
“What? You don’t like yours?” She took a bite. The meat was juicy, cooked just right.
“No. The steak is awesome.” He went in for another bite.
When he silently started in on his baked potato, she laid a hand over his. “Then what’s wrong, James Bond?”
He didn’t smile at her use of the nickname. “I figured you were used to fancier guys, growing up in boarding schools and all. So, I wore the suit to show you I can be one, too. Sometimes. Like your pal, Charlie.”
Was he still worried about her feelings for Charlie? It made her smile. “I’m not used to any particular type of guy, seeing as it’s hard to date when you live in a prison. But you look so hot in that suit that I might have said yes if you’d actually proposed.”
Jake grinned as he cut himself another bite. “If I had proposed, how many kids would you like to have?”
She pondered while she ate. “Two. Maybe three. But where would we live with these imaginary children? We live thousands of miles apart.”
“Wouldn’t matter.” Jake’s eyes sparkled with amusement as he took another drink of wine. After he had put his glass down, he reached out and took her hand. “As long as we’re all together.”
James Bond Jake was making her heart go mushy. “You realize if you married me, you’d have to let me drive the Bond sports car, right? The one that can fly and go underwater.”
“Nope. Can’t do it.” He laid his fork down and leaned closer. “The car only responds to James.” He ran his fingers over her left hand and entwined them with hers. “But I’d buy you a decoder engagement ring instead.”
“Oh well, then. That’d almost make up for it.” Still holding his hand, she said, “But you’d need to throw in a bathroom like yours, too.”
“Deal.” He kissed the back of her hand. “Come home with me after this is over, and we’ll find your favorite shower setting.”
“I’d like that very much, Jake.” She laid a soft kiss on his lips. “Thank you for the best engagement dinner I’ve ever had.” Probably the only one she’d ever have.
He whispered, “It was my best one, too.”
If a heart could sigh, hers would have. And then it’d tell her she was officially in love with Jake.