Pregnant By The Rival Ceo. Karen BoothЧитать онлайн книгу.
the house, a wide sweep of stone stairs leading to the front door, flanked by hand-leaded windows. His pride swelled. He couldn’t help it. He’d impressed her and he was glad that he had.
“The house was built in the twenties. I had it completely remodeled when I bought it three years ago.” As much as he loved his job, it was a pressure cooker, and being in Manhattan only exacerbated it. “I figured it was a good investment and I wanted a getaway that would always be here. Something I could depend on. Something comfortable.”
Jacob snatched up the keys in his hand and climbed out of the car. He didn’t make it around in time to open Anna’s door for her, but he was able to grab her overnight bag before she had the chance to do so. He wanted to at least do some things for her. In fact, he’d purposely called the house’s caretaker and asked him to give them a wide berth this weekend. There would already be his cook and housekeeper around.
“Seems like a lot of space for one person,” Anna said, as they made their way to the front door. “How often do your parents come to visit?”
Family was such an integral part of Anna’s life. It was probably impossible for her to fathom an existence that didn’t revolve around it. “You’d be surprised.” He opened the door and ushered her inside, placing their bags on a bench in the spacious foyer.
“A lot, then?”
He shook his head. “No. Not much at all. Especially not my dad. My mom will come for a weekend once a year, but she’s antsy the whole time she’s here. I think she probably learned that from my dad.” As hard as Jacob liked to work, he had seen his dad take it too far. He made a point of relaxing when he came up here, but that almost exclusively involved getting his hands dirty. Very dirty. He’d have to show Anna his collection after he’d shown her the house.
Anna turned and frowned. “Don’t you get lonely up here?”
Jacob was so accustomed to being alone that it didn’t faze him at all, but he was smart enough to know that most people didn’t live that way. Especially not a Langford. “I won’t be lonely this weekend. That’s all that matters right now.” He chided himself the instant the words were out of his mouth. Why couldn’t he answer, “no”? Why was flirtation and leading answers his inclination? He wasn’t the guy who had trouble turning off this aspect of his personality. He was usually far more in control.
Anna flushed with the most gorgeous shade of pink. “That’s a great way of thinking.”
The urge to cup the side of her face and sweep his thumb across the swell of her cheek bubbled up inside him. Stuffing his hands in his pockets was the only way to stop himself. He wasn’t about to cross that line. He needed to get a grip and wrap his head around everything he was fighting in his mind. When he’d been irate with Adam, it was easy to imagine getting back at him by seducing his sister. But then he’d picked her up at her apartment and he was quickly reminded of two things—Adam’s sister was a woman he cared about, and a path that led to intimacy was not to be taken lightly. A smart man would insist that the risk was not worth the reward, even if the reward did look stunning in her blue sweater.
As in all business, detachment was the most proven tack. For the moment, it meant focusing on his head and ignoring his body. There was a very clear answer to the question of what his body wanted—Anna. He couldn’t even fathom what might happen if he made a move. Would she cast away her brown eyes in shyness or would she have the courage to meet his gaze and tell him what she wanted? If he could have anything right then and there, he would’ve loved to know what she was thinking. Why was she here? What was driving her? Was it really as simple as wanting to broker a big deal? Or was there something else?
He cleared his throat. “Allow me to give you the tour.”
Anna nodded and he led the way.
* * *
Anna had grown up amidst wealth and splendor, but Jacob’s house was truly remarkable—beautifully refinished wood floors, a refined mix of modern furnishings and antiques, every surface impeccable and of the finest quality. Even her mother would’ve been a bit envious, and Evelyn Langford devoted an awful lot of time and resources to feathering her nest.
They returned to the front door, and Anna assumed they were going to go upstairs to see the bedrooms. Instead, Jacob handed over her coat. “I have something I want to show you in the garage.”
The garage? He was aware she knew what a lawn mower looked like, wasn’t he? “Okay. Sure.”
They walked along a wide flagstone walkway, past the swimming pool and tennis courts. Beyond was an enormous outbuilding. Practically a warehouse, with a keypad entry and a security system Jacob had to disarm once they were inside. He flipped a succession of switches and the lights flickered on, one by one, across the massive room. Anna gasped.
It was an homage to motorized travel—seven or eight very expensive-looking cars, all black, and at least two dozen motorcycles. The entire room was spotless— polished concrete floors, not a speck of dust or dirt anywhere. Chrome gleamed. The aroma of motor oil and tooled leather swirled around her, a smell she’d never anticipated could be so appealing. She’d had men show off collections before—art, autographed baseballs. One guy owned what she’d thought was a dizzying array of antique chess sets. Talk about dizzying—Jacob’s display of testosterone-fueled fascination was enough to make her head swim.
“Jacob, wow. I can’t even...” Anna paced ahead slowly, Jacob right behind her. She was mesmerized, but afraid to touch the wrong thing. “They’re incredible.”
They stood before a bike with a worn but polished brown leather seat. “This is my hobby. Everything is vintage. Nothing built after 1958. Some of them I’ve bought from other collectors, but quite a few were falling apart when I got them. They were a lot of work, but I love it.”
She folded her hands. Jacob loomed behind her, so close. She could feel the measured rhythm of his breaths even when she couldn’t see him. “You do the actual repairs?”
“Is that hard to believe?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m just surprised you know how to do it, that’s all.”
He let out a breathy laugh. “At first, it was the challenge of teaching myself how to do it. I was very motivated to learn. Now it’s simply that I don’t trust anyone with these. They’re prized possessions and that means I keep them all to myself.”
“Well, they’re just incredible. Truly beautiful. I’m very impressed.”
He stepped over to a bike in the center of the front row, swung his long leg over the seat and straddled it. “This one is my favorite. A Vincent Black Shadow. Very collectible.” The motorcycle popped back off its kickstand, bounced in place a few times under his weight. His hands—good God, his hands—gripped the handles in a way that said he didn’t merely know how to care for the machinery. He knew how to ride.
“Take me out,” she blurted.
He smirked, his eyes crinkling at the corner. “It’s cold out there. You’ll freeze.”
“I’ll live.”
“Have you even been on a motorcycle?” His voice rumbled, low and gravelly.
She had most certainly not been on a motorcycle. She’d lived her entire life in Manhattan. Riding on a motorcycle was the sort of thing her parents never, ever would have allowed her to do. As an adult, she’d never had the chance. Nor had she put much thought into how all-out sexy the idea might be until confronted with it.
“No. I haven’t. And that’s why I want you to take me out.” She shook her head slowly, their eyes connecting. His dark stare was like a tractor beam—he could have drawn her across the room with a single thought, not needing to utter a word or even curl a finger. He made her so damn nervous when he looked at her like that, as if he knew how easily he could mold her every vulnerability into something of his own. She didn’t have a lot of weaknesses, but there were a few. Did he know that he was one? That look on his face