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the kitchen bench Holly found Jacob’s tray of spirits lined up with a crystal decanter and crystal glasses. Ignoring the offer, she discarded her briefcase on the floor next to the bench and did a turn about the room.

      She ran her hand across the back of the soft cream lounge, scanned the titles of the numerous books lining the long hip-high bookshelves that separated the dining room from the lounge. She walked up the three steps to the raised level and marvelled at the city lights reflecting off the glass-topped dining table. She could feel the cool of the coming night radiating through the thick glass of the window. She moved to stand so close her breath formed on the window.

      ‘You like?’

      Holly turned with her hand at her heart as Jacob’s soft voice scared her out of her reverie. She had not even heard him come up behind her.

      He handed her a glass of red wine and she took a quick sip. Peeking over the top of her wineglass, she noticed his hair was still damp as evidenced by the smooth comb lines running through it. And even through the intoxicating aroma of the heavy red wine she could smell mint. Toothpaste? Then she remembered seeing a few faint shiny patches on the floor on her way in. It suddenly registered that the patches were in fact wet footprints and that she must have caught him in the shower.

      She turned back towards the window, hoping he had not noticed her blush. ‘How could anyone not like it? Your apartment is lovely, Jacob. And the view is breathtaking.’ She swept a hand in front of her, encompassing the entire panorama.

      ‘This was the first residential property I bought,’ Jacob said.

      ‘You own the building?’ Holly asked, spinning back to face him, her intrigue overcoming her embarrassment. Marble floors, a security guard, city views. Phew.

      ‘I did. I financed its refurbishment several years ago and then sold it off piece by piece, keeping the best apartment for myself. Admittedly I made no money on the deal, I came out even for the first, and hopefully last, time, but I think the sacrifice was worth it.’

      ‘Indeed.’

      ‘Every time I come back it makes me wonder why I ever chose to leave.’

      Holly took another sip of the delicious wine, entranced by the city lights reflected in Jacob’s eyes and unable to swallow down an unreasonable hope that he would never leave again. As though sensing the acute emotion she could not contain, Jacob took a small step forward, bringing them to within a foot of each other.

      She felt a torrid tingling sensation well up in her feet as all of the blood seemed to have ventured further north.

      The cool perfumes of mint and now shampoo fought for her attention. With them came jumbled scented memories of fresh rain.

      She watched Jacob’s hand leave his glass and slowly, slowly ease its way towards her. Her breath caught in her throat. Her hands felt slippery and warm as she clutched the glass to her chest.

      Her eyes closed, too heavy with expectation to remain open any longer, and she waited, unable and unwilling to prevent whatever was about to happen.

      CHAPTER TWELVE

      AND then the music stopped. The jazz CD had finished. With a slight cough Jacob stepped that same small step back to his original position.

      This movement snapped Holly out of her trance and after blinking rapidly several times she too moved, willing her numb legs to step smartly around him and down the steps towards the kitchen.

      ‘I have the presentation in my bag,’ she prattled as she moved further and further from the window, and from Jacob, her heels clacking on the polished wood floor, the noise comfortingly louder than the beating of her heart. ‘Maybe we should sit on the couch and I’ll go through it with you quickly so I can get out of your hair.’

      She placed the half-empty glass on the kitchen bench and reached down to grab her briefcase.

      Jacob had moved down to the bookshelves and was restarting the CD in the discreetly concealed stereo. As the soft strains of the mellow song wafted from numerous hidden speakers around the apartment Jacob turned to face her.

      Holly stood, rooted to the spot. The moment was upon her. This was what she had so keenly wished to see. The man in his environment.

      The reality was a man a couple of inches over six feet, with thick springy dark hair, rich hazel eyes frayed by long, dark lashes. A man whose slightly crooked smile could turn her knees to butter and whose occasional dimples made her lose her focus and resolve every time they surfaced. A man wearing velvety soft chocolate-brown trousers, a lightweight sweater, which emphasized the width of his shoulders and the well-developed muscles beneath, a silver and gold two-tone sports watch, no rings or other jewellery. A man content to spend a Friday night at home on a comfortable couch, sipping on a good red wine and listening to lazy jazz music.

      Jacob walked towards her and she saw that he was also a man wearing no shoes. So that’s how he crept up on me so quietly, Holly thought as her eyes snapped back up to his. The cheeky look in his eyes dared her to accuse him of anything.

      As he approached her she stood her ground, her briefcase held like armour in front of her. Once at her side he leaned towards her. Her breath caught in her throat and she could not move. Then at the last second his hand reached out, grabbing her red wine glass from the kitchen bench top. Then just as casually he turned and strolled towards the lounge. He had not come within a foot of her yet she was shaking from his proximity.

      ‘Are you coming?’ he called over his shoulder.

      Holly released the deep breath she had been holding, gathered her wits then walked over to join him. He had lounged on one of the long four-seater couches in his usual idle manner and she joined him there, though far enough away that their knees had no chance of touching.

      ‘What important details have you got to show me?’ Jacob asked, amusement lacing every word.

      Holly glared at him. ‘You may not think this meeting will be valuable, but if it means that Anabella’s party is the better for it then why object?’

      Rather than be offended, he looked at her with respect, as he always seemed to when she stood up to him. ‘Go ahead, then. Though I must say I never once said your coming here would prove invaluable.’

      ‘Yes, well, good, then,’ she stammered as she collected her thoughts. But once she clapped eyes back on her party notes, her confidence returned. This she could do in her sleep.

      She went through every detail regarding venue, catering and décor, leaving not a single suggestion out. She finished her presentation with the fact she had chosen a luxurious banquet hall owned by Lincoln Holdings, as she already knew he preferred to use his own establishments for his events. When Jacob did not respond she looked up to find his eyes spectacularly crossed.

      ‘What was that for?’

      He uncrossed his eyes and grinned. ‘First things first, Holly—you do realise that I am a man?’

      She had not met a man more obviously masculine. ‘For the sake of argument, yes.’

      ‘Well, then, you must understand that I find words such as “georgette” and “decoupage” mind-boggling.’

      Holly went to interrupt but Jacob held a finger to her lips, shutting her up quick smart.

      ‘Believe me, I am not diminishing what you do, I hired you because I admit you can do it better. If you came here for my approval, then you have it. Book everything. Hire everybody. Just go right ahead. But first things first, stay right where you are.’

      He quickly pulled his finger from her mouth, kissed it and placed it back on her lips before bounding out of the chair and jogging into the kitchen.

      ‘Now, I have to give this a quick stir and add the veggies for half a second and then I will be able to blind you with my culinary talents.’

      ‘Oh, no,’ Holly said, shoving her bits and pieces

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