He’d seen her carry purchases out for young mothers whose hands were full, and seen her laughing with the old men that flirted with her. She was well-liked, in some cases adored, and was slowly making herself a part of the community.
“You’ve never married, that makes all those mothers and grandmothers nervous,” she informed him as she crossed her jean-clad legs and flicked him an amused glance. “They have to have hope you’ll marry so their little girls will stop wishing for you and settle down with nice, unassuming young men they can control.”
“Is that what it is?” He grunted, amused. “And here I just thought they enjoyed messing with my personal life.”
“I have no doubt that’s part of it too.” She lifted her hand to brush the fringe of her bangs back and that motion seemed so fucking familiar he had to clench his teeth against the need to demand why. Why the hell did it feel like he knew her far better than he should?
“What about you?” He knew he was pushing it, but he was dying to know what the hell was driving him insane where she was concerned. “Gossip says you’re divorced?”
Tension tightened through her instantly. He could feel it, even if he hadn’t seen it in the stiffened line of her shoulders.
“Yes. Divorced,” she agreed readily, her voice cooler now. “Young and dumb, you know?”
The nervous smile she shot him was followed by another brush of her fingers against her hair before she linked them together in her lap.
“Happens,” he agreed, nodding as though he couldn’t feel that edge of nerves and fear reaching out to him.
“Left him back in Oklahoma?” Was the bastard still a part of her life?
“When he left the house, I never saw him again.” She shrugged. “I have no idea where he went or what he’s doing.”
She was stiff, staring straight ahead, though she was so obviously fighting to appear relaxed. Jacob forced himself to bite his tongue, to hold back his questions. If Sallie arrived at his home upset, or angry with him, then Gram would strip his hide.
He almost grimaced at the thought. His grandmother was scarier than any director or enemy he’d ever faced in his life. Not for a second would he consider bringing her wrath down on his head. He remembered the switch she’d used when he was a kid far too well.
“When it comes to exes, that’s probably best,” he stated, as though the subject were closed. “I can be a possessive man, you know.”
Her head swung around, eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Why would you be possessive of me, Jacob? I wouldn’t advise such a thing. It won’t work out.”
His let his brow lift mockingly as he slid her a quick look.
“We’ll have to see about that,” he murmured. “I might be able to convince you to like it.”
She’d better learn to like it. He’d marked her, spilled himself inside her. As far as he was concerned, she already belonged to him, whether she liked it or not.
* * *
She had no doubt she wouldn’t, Sallie told herself firmly as she pushed away the fear that Jacob was about to become nosy about her life. She couldn’t afford his nosiness or his suspicion. When she’d met him six years before, he’d been using another name, a cover, which no doubt meant he’d been an agent of some sort. Considering they were in Switzerland at the time, she was guessing CIA, which meant she was going to have to be very careful if he kept his focus on her.
No, she was going to have to break this off quickly. She should have already realized he’d been an agent of some sort while he was in Switzerland. The moment she was introduced to him as Jacob Donovan, but no one called him Jake, she’d known something was wrong.
She’d thought for a while that perhaps he’d just lied to her about his name for some other reason. So she couldn’t find him once he left, perhaps he was married at the time, but according to gossip, Jacob had never been married.
If he had been or even still was an agent, then she was in a hell of a lot of trouble.
She’d never imagined he’d want more than another one-night stand. She was already off-balance and uncertain, terrified that her past was going to return, and she’d have to run again. Terrified that she wouldn’t run in time.
That was her greatest fear. Or even worse, Jacob would finally recognize her. How humiliating would that be? For him to know that she was so desperate for his touch that not only could she not resist him, but she couldn’t resist him after he’d already walked away from her once.
And losing him again … After that morning, could she survive it? It had been like a flashback to that last morning in Switzerland, a near exact reenactment of how they’d taken each other again.
“Here we are.” She was drawn from her thoughts at his quiet announcement and looked up from staring sightlessly at her entwined fingers.
The single-story ranch house sat peacefully in a wide, summer green valley, its back to the rising, forested land bordering it on one side. Stables, a barn, and corrals dotted the landscape some distance from the house. It was a lazy, peaceful summer day here. A small group of livestock grazed in a fenced pasture, while several horses stood placidly in a boarded corral.
It was a familiar sight to Sallie now. She’d visited enough of the ranches that Dillerman’s supplied that she was familiar with the efficiency. Jacob’s operation wasn’t as large as, say, the Culpeppers’, but the fact that it was successful showed in the neatly painted buildings, the care in the ranch yards, and the neat, careful landscaping around the house.
“It’s beautiful,” she said softly, her gaze roving over the flowering bushes and strategically placed trees for shade surrounding the house as well as the rest of the valley.
“Gram has strict standards.” He shot her a grin, but she saw the pride in his expression as well.
His grandmother may well have strict standards, but so did Jacob evidently.
Following the asphalt drive to the garage attached to the house, he parked and cut the engine to the vehicle.
“Let me get your door,” he told her as she reached for the latch. “Gram will lecture both of us otherwise.”
Mrs. Donovan was actually known for her strict views on what was or was not polite when it came to men and women. Those who knew her found it amusing, but if she was around, those men who knew her took notice.
So, Sallie stayed in place as Jacob jumped from the truck and made his way to the passenger side to open her door and help her from the cab. Placing his hand on her lower back, he walked next to her to the front door, where he then opened it and stepped back for her to enter. The subtle wink he shot her as she passed him sent a wave of warmth curling through her.
As though they shared a secret, an acknowledgment that he may be the polite gentleman now, but once he got her alone, that veil would drop, and he’d become the hungry, dominant lover she was becoming familiar with.
Entering the house, she put thoughts of Jacob the lover and the past behind her, and greeted Jacob’s grandmother as the older woman moved to them.
Mary Ann Donovan was a small woman, delicately boned and full of energy. At seventy-three she still drove her own car, was rumored to slip out occasionally in Jacob’s old Mustang, and if the gossip was right, kept all her friends in trouble with their children and grandchildren when they joined her in her sense of fun. Someone had even mentioned a near arrest when she and several others had helped another friend slip from the retirement home her children had placed her in.