Climbing High (2 page)

When Jake turned back to check on her, he found her eyes open and fixed on him. Fine lines formed in her brow while she worked to figure him out.
Good luck with that
. He couldn’t even figure himself out. The intensity of his reaction to her injury mystified him.

“Perhaps tea with sugar to help with the shock?” he queried.

She nodded, levered herself in slow stages from the chair, and lifted the dry clothes. “I’ll change.”

Jake sent Burdett on yet another trip to the kitchen, moved her backpack to a dry table in the sunshine and settled onto one of the chairs. His mobile phone hummed and he smiled when he read his assistant hadn’t been able to move the meeting back to give him the extra minutes he’d requested, but had re-scheduled. Seemed the universe had decided to help him out. Now he had a wider window to explore his strong reaction to this woman and make sense out of it so he could dismiss it.

She came back, her wet clothes rolled in a bundle. Droplets of moisture around her hairline told him she’d splashed water on her face. Late afternoon sunlight backlit her hair, forming a golden nimbus around her head.

He rose, offered his hand. “Jake Ingles.”

She took it, her touch light and brief. “Siree Lorain.”

She settled herself across from him. Her smile deepened the small dimple beside her mouth. “The painkiller has kicked in. I’m almost back to normal.”

“Good for you, Suray Loran.” He’d spelled it in his imagination how she’d pronounced it, finding it lodged itself like sunshine in his mind. “Resilience is an admirable quality.”

“Thank you, Jake Ingles.” She too seemed to pause to test the sound of his name on her lips. “Canadian?”

He nodded, resting easily as the golden eyes inventoried him.

“Your French is excellent.

“The advantage of growing up in a bilingual country. And
your
French?”

“The advantage of growing up in many countries.” She tilted her head and clasped her hands together under her chin. Burdett approached in slow motion, his eyes darting between the flagstones and the teacup in his hand. He set it before her like an offering at a shrine and proffered a small bowl of sugar lumps. She stirred three into her tea, sipped and puckered her mouth in a moue of distaste.

Jake’s attention went straight to her plush lips and stayed there wondering what they would feel like beneath his own.

She looked up and leaned away as if sensing his thoughts.

Distraction. He needed a distraction.

“I noticed you have climbing equipment and wondered if you might tell me a few places to get in some climbing while I’m here?”

She looked into his eyes, her own intelligent and perceptive, then assessed his body. His relaxed posture in the chair offered her an excellent view of his abdomen and shoulders. Muscles flexed in his biceps and thighs when he shifted under her lengthy perusal.

God, I’m posing like a body builder in some competition
. But he made a point of flexing his hands on the table so she could see his climber’s callouses, in case she hadn’t already registered them when he stroked ointment onto her arm. The memory of her silky skin sent his blood south of his belt again. He started a backwards count from one hundred. He didn’t want to blow it now.

Her fingers toyed with the handle of her cup, reminding him of the smoothness of them, sliding across his hand. “You wear gloves when you climb?” he guessed.

“I wish. It would save snagging my stockings when I pull them on.” Her eyes crinkled and her full lips turned up, deepening the cleft in her chin. He tried not to stare at it while his mind pictured her slender limbs encased in silk.

“Glad I don’t have that problem.” He flashed his signature grin at her, surprised at how pleased he felt when she made a production out of pushing her tongue into her cheek while staring into his eyes.

He grinned for real, openly enjoying her poke at him. “So you just finished a climb this morning?” He spoke in English, following her example. Hers, he noted, sounded accent free.

“Yes.” She didn’t elaborate, but instead swept her hand to where his mobile phone sat on the table between them. “I would think that you could research everything you need on that.”

“Sure.” Jake spun the phone in a circle then tucked it into his trouser pocket. “I know the climbs and distances to them, routes, level of difficulty, but I have only a few days here and minimal time to climb, so I want to make the best choice and firsthand knowledge goes a long way. Fontainebleu is the closest. I’d rather spend my time climbing than travelling to get there, but is it worth it?”

“Depends on what level you handle.” She twirled her cup in her saucer, her face thoughtful. “Fontainebleau is mostly easy bouldering, you understand. If you want to free climb something more challenging, the Mount Blanc, Chamonix area provides some grueling ascents on granite. Though of course it’s further out of the city, and most of the climbs require an overnight stay to get the early start needed to finish in daylight.”

“Sounds like the kind of thing I’m after. Our Rocky Mountains provide a lot of granite work. I like to test myself when I go up. I noticed you were with a group. Is it a climb club? Maybe I could join up for their next climb.”

“No, just friends.” She rose and started gathering her things. “We’re heading for Chamonix Friday night to make a climb Saturday. If you’d like to leave your contact information with me, I’ll ask the group if they mind you joining us.” She tilted her head in question.

Jake leapt to help her, noting the white line around her lips and the depth of pain in her eyes. “Works for me. I’m here till Tuesday and don’t have solid plans for the weekend.” Jake mentally cancelled his dinner with the trade commissioner, his date with a nubile French model he looked up whenever he came to Paris, and the hours he’d set aside to prepare a proposal for a French company he was wooing. He must be an idiot. Even with the thought bonging in his brainbox, he pulled a business card from his wallet and handed it over. He watched, curious to see her reaction when she read the name of his business and his position as owner/CEO. He’d built the company from a patented software program in college to a major player on the world stage.

She smoothed her fingertips over the black embossed letters that told a story of technical genius.

Her face remained quiet, her eyes calm. “I know this company.” She tucked his card in her pocket.

Jake’s curiosity ramped up another notch. Her tone had been so neutral he couldn’t read a thing from it. What did she know? Had she read about his business in a reputable magazine or about his personal life in some sleazy gossip rag? Did she work for someone who did business with him?

His company wrote software for other companies who needed to make their products work. JDI Inc
.
had clients around the world and pulled in billions of dollars in revenue a year. But his satisfaction came from solving the problem of a client, in helping get a product up and running and out there. JDI technicians could design a new assembly line, a new method of distribution, or instructional software for the employees. He had the best techies around the world working for him. He went after the work that kept them busy and that meant a lot of travel and networking. And tore great chunks out of his personal life. Stifling the urge to prolong his time with her, he moved away. If he wanted to climb this weekend, he better write that proposal.

“Well, Ms. Suray Loran, it’s been a pleasure. I hope your friends have no problem with me joining their climb.” He placed a few euros on the table to pay for her tea. “My treat,” he insisted when she leaned forward to protest. “I hope there won’t be any lasting damage from the accident.” He didn’t make the mistake of offering to see her home. She exuded independence. He had no doubt she’d ask for help if she wanted it.

“Thank you again, Jake, for coming to my rescue. I’ll contact you with details, if the others say you’re in.”

He felt her gaze on his back as he walked away. She wore no rings. Not married then. But wait, a lot of climbers took their rings off to climb. He just hoped she showed up on an Internet search, because the minute he was off this street he’d be typing in her name. He looked back before he turned the corner, his shadow already on his trail. She’d pulled out a smart phone and her slender fingers were flying over the keypad. If she looked him up, she’d have a lot of reading to do. He couldn’t sneeze without someone making it a story. Unfortunately, she wouldn’t just see the business and climbing articles, but the pulp connecting him with dozens of women over the years. Would she, like so many, label him a womanizer? Her tongue in cheek gesture earlier made it obvious she had discernment. With luck, he’d become her favorite bedtime reading material.

****

Siree indeed took the time to read up on Jacob Daniel Ingles. She already knew of his business success from articles published in
Economics Yearly, Fortune Favours,
and
Washington
over the past ten years. A millionaire software whiz by twenty-four, the CEO of JDI had taken his company international and grown it to a billion dollar business.
He had to be thirty-two
. Six years older than herself. It’d taken her a while to connect the gorgeous man at the café with the business mogul so highly respected by her clients.

There were four hundred hits on the climbs he’d completed, alone. Good to know he wouldn’t put them in jeopardy. Looked to be more experienced than any of them. She could justify checking the man out before inviting him to join her friends. Spending the rest of the night reading about his social life had to be one of her poorer choices. Listed as the sexiest man in America, two years ago, in the top list of the world’s most eligible bachelors last year, he made for some heady reading. He appeared to attend every high profile event out there. She could paper her hotel room with photos of Jake escorting some beautiful woman somewhere.
Did the man never focus on just one?
The next photo she saw featured him in a wet swimsuit that clung to his muscled thighs. With a soft moan of approval, she fell to imagining what that beautiful body would look like naked. She surfaced to find her nipples taut and a light film of perspiration on her skin.
For goodness sake, you sound like an animal in heat.

Her lips tightened as she looked back at her screen.
Not fair. Aquamarine eyes, black hair, and bronzed skin should be outlawed.
“And a mouth to die for,” she enumerated, taking in the wry quirk at one corner of his lips. She recalled how his eyes took on a devilish glint each time the corner of his mouth tilted.

“You almost fell into that one,” she taunted herself, closing the laptop and shoving it across the bed. She flopped back and pounded her pillow, demanding sleep to rescue her from her thoughts. But they chased her still. She relived the instantaneous and considerable attraction she felt for Jake.

She’d noticed him reading at the café table when she’d arrived with her friends; so had Gretta and Lara. No woman with blood still moving in her veins could ignore him. He’d exuded power and confidence. She’d pondered if a person could be too confident and concluded it just proved they’d coped with whatever life threw at them and came out on top. Then he’d come to her rescue, and she’d seen his sensitivity to Burdett’s embarrassment and his compassion for her pain.
Too bad he’s not just an ordinary guy. I would’ve liked to date him.

But he didn’t ask for a date
. He’d asked for a climb, instead. And in a weird upside-down way that made her like him more. Siree had long since learned most men saw her as a pretty package and went after her wrappings without ever checking the contents.

So, no Jake Ingles. She shrugged. Life didn’t always give you what you wanted. If her friends agreed to include him, she couldn’t see any harm in inviting him along. She’d just keep her distance. Her thoughts strayed to his tight buttocks. She imagined his narrow hips thrusting against her own.
Whoa
. Climbing on Mont Blanc wouldn’t be her greatest challenge.

****

The text came that evening. Immersed in flow charts and complex financial breakdowns, Jake still grabbed his mobile phone the second its soft purr sounded. He’d hoped she’d phone so he could hear her voice again, maybe get her talking. Disappointed, he read her text.

U’r in. 05:00 Mont Blanc Chateau lobby, 21
st
. S

He’d spent considerable time after his meetings searching for information on Suray Loran and found nothing. Either she’d given him the wrong name or she’d done nothing with her life. Remembering her intuitive leaps of thought, he doubted the latter. He pushed back from the desk and stretched. Was she playing him? With the media always hard on his heels, tracking him proved easy. Many women had set up what appeared to be spontaneous meetings to get an introduction. So had many business people who wanted to pitch a project and couldn’t get by the security surrounding him. The idea she wanted something from him didn’t sit well. She intrigued him and he didn’t want to walk away.

Confirmed. J,
he tapped into his phone, certain if she had ulterior motives he’d unmask her with just a little more time in her company
.

He emerged from the proposal hours later, pleased he’d been able to put her out of his mind and concentrate on work. “See, Ingles,” he reassured himself, “she’s nothing but a beautiful woman and the ‘in’ for a good climb. You can let down your guard.”

But he dreamed about golden hair flowing over him and golden eyes laughing into his and had woken up diamond hard just before their mouths touched.

He spent the day feeling edgy. Finchley got on her high horse when he told her to dig deeper and find him something on Suray. He snapped his fingers and swung back to her. “Try it with Larain, the French spelling.” His smile held until she reported no hits again, but a Siree Larain showed up under forensic accountant, no photo, minimal information. Jake negated that the animated woman climbing with friends on a workday could be a staid number cruncher. But he tucked the name Siree Larain away in his mind and read everything Finchley dug up on her.