Make Me Feel by Beth Kery Read Free Book Online Page B

both skipped dessert and coffee, and had been polite enough with each other while Jacob took care of the check. Still, their former intimacy and warmth had vanished, only to be replaced by a growing, taut strain.
    They rode in silence for twenty minutes. As Miguel, his driver, maneuvered them through tight Saturday evening traffic, he found himself unable to restrain his volatility any longer, however.
    She sat on the seat across from him, staring out the window, the passing lights glimmering in the stones of the earrings he’d bought her. Her pure, striking profile was what drew his gaze, however, not the precious gems. He clenched his teeth.
    God, he wanted her.
    “There are times that I feel like you know more about me than you’re letting on.”
    His words sounded harsh, cutting through the billowing silence of the dim, hushed limo. He recognized that a portion of his volatility stemmed from her aloofness at that moment . . . her untouchable quality. Because despite all his ambiguity and uncertainty toward her, the need to touch, to assure himself of her reciprocated need, never once waned. If anything, his hunger seemed to be growing exponentially in the face of his doubts.
    She turned to face him. He saw incredulity written large on her face
    “Why in the world would I know more about you than I’m telling you?” she demanded. He saw understanding slowly dawn on her face. “Do you think I’m putting on a show? To get a story about you? Did you talk to Cyril? Did he tell you I was asking questions about your background this afternoon?”
    Cyril hadn’t told him anything, but Jacob’s expression didn’t shift. His heartbeat began to thrum in his hears. “Cyril and I have been friends for years,” he replied neutrally. “We don’t keep a lot from each other.”
    She exhaled, shaking her head, the motion causing her long, lush hair to slide across her pale shoulders and arms. Desire and confusion clashed inside him, making his muscles tense hard.
    “I told him I wasn’t asking questions about you to get fuel for a story, or to use the information in any way that was harmful to you. I
told
him I was just trying to understand you better. Then he ran to tell you everything, apparently. You have him trained well,” she stated bitterly, staring again out the window, her jaw tense. She suddenly made a desperate, disgusted sound and whipped her head around. “Why are you so convinced I want to hurt you?”
    “Because you can.”
    She started. He, too, felt a little taken aback by his honest answer. He’d just admitted point-blank that he cared enough for her that she had the power to hurt him. After a stretched moment, she inhaled slowly.
    “Because I have access to your homes? To your world? To you? Don’t kid yourself. You haven’t given
that
much away, Jacob. Besides, you’ve asked me to take risks for you,” she breathed out coldly. “Maybe you’re going to have to decide once and for all if you’re willing to do the same for me. Oh . . . and once you make your choice, stop getting pissed off at me every time I remind you of someone else, or make you feel in the tiniest bit vulnerable. That’s just the way being . . . with someone else works.” She scoffed and rolled her eyes. He sensed her disgust at him, but also at herself. “I almost said ‘being in a relationship.’ Imagine me, saying that to Jacob Latimer.”
    “Harper—”
    He cut himself off when the limo came to a halt. He realized in mounting frustration that he wasn’t sure what he would have said to her, anyway. What he
could
say. He felt blocked at every turn.
    They didn’t speak as they approached the Sea Cliff house, and he keyed in a security code. She walked ahead of him when they entered, and headed directly for the stairs. He followed, his agitation swelling at the vision of her elegant, stiff back and shoulders. She was pissed, and good. But he wasn’t exactly pleased at learning she’d been trying to pull