Blind Dates and Other Disasters: The Wedding Wish. Элли Блейк
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that’s because of the intense discomfort and irritation preceding it. You know how it goes. That first slight tingle that makes your nose twitch, which then grows into that bothersome tickle that builds and builds into an exasperating itch. And then comes the sneeze and when it is released, ahhh, what a wonderful sensation. But that wonderful sensation is only the same non-sensation you had before the tingle even started. Basically the good feeling only exists because of the bad feeling prior to it.’
Jacob’s laughter came more easily. ‘I guess there is some peculiar sense in there somewhere.’
‘Peculiar or not, it’s true. Without understanding of deep sorrow there can be no appreciation of sheer joy.’
Holly patted him companionably on the hand, pushed her chair back and stood up. ‘Now, my friend, could you please point the way to the little girls’ room?’
Jacob pointed down the stairs to the doorway next to the kitchen. Holly smiled her thanks and rubbed Jacob’s shoulder as she passed him by, sending a wash of warmth from her lithe fingertips through his tense shoulder.
As she reached the door she turned back for a moment, as though she knew he was studying her, and smiled before disappearing into the room beyond.
A small smile played at Jacob’s lips as he thought of his younger sister and her love of stray animals, her abhorrence of reality television and refusal to cut her long dark hair any shorter than her shoulder blades. Without those traits and without his support through those formative years, she would not be the same Ana.
With a deep, contented sigh, Jacob rose from his seat and cleared the table, whistling softly along with the upbeat jazz music as he did, a spring in his step and a serenity he did not remember ever feeling.
As Holly washed her hands in the bathroom sink she looked into the mirror. Her lipstick was all but gone; only a light burgundy stain remained on her full lips. Her tongue ran over her teeth, once again tasting the honey soy stir-fry Jacob had cooked.
In the corner of the mirror she caught sight of a bath, which was so huge it took up all of one corner of the spacious room. It was certainly large enough to fit Jacob’s tall frame. Easily. As well as that of another person.
Her eyes swung back to the mirror so she faced herself head-on.
‘Holly, get a grip,’ she growled through clenched teeth. ‘And get your briefcase and get out of here before you do something you can’t take back.’ Something worse than just picturing him stripping off and lowering his long, muscular length into a hot bath filled with bubbles …
‘Holly!’ she said aloud, bringing her hands to her face and slapping herself lightly. She had to shake off the growing ardour that mental picture had initiated.
Jacob was a guy who needed time and space. He needed patience and kind words. She felt as though he had made some progress out there tonight and the last thing he needed was some husband-hungry woman leaping into his arms and professing her undying love.
Once free of the bathroom, Holly found herself back in what she assumed was Jacob’s bedroom.
The natural tones and unpretentious feel of the room matched the rest of the home. ‘St John’s ace lithograph’ filled an otherwise blank wall above the bed head and bookshelves ran the length of one wall.
This could be her one and only time there and she could not resist soaking up as much of Jacob’s habitat as possible. She ran her fingers along the smooth, clean horizontal planes of the bookshelves. Amongst the numerous books there sat a few photo frames; most housed pictures of Jacob with a thin brunette woman. Holly ran a finger over the girl’s face, assuming it was Anabella. She had the same dark hair and deep hazel eyes and her smile towards her brother was bursting with love.
And between a pair of stout candleholders and a bunch of unused candles sat a pair of much-used boxing gloves in a glass case.
She stopped short at this last item, staring at the rough, rounded surfaces with their numerous cracks, bruises and stains. Looking closer, she even thought she could make out splatters of dried blood on the knuckle of the right hand. A chill ran down her spine as her mind clouded with a flash of images of how those marks and scrapes would have been achieved. She knew exactly what it took for a pair of well-worn boxing gloves to look like that.
Then she remembered that Jacob was the man who had organised those dangerous boxing bouts for his employees to ‘enjoy’. She found it hard reconciling her memory of the antagonistic, commanding, condescending man of that night with the astute, intriguing, reflective man on the other side of the door.
But they were one and the same.
Jacob, whom Ben and Beth considered a close and worthy friend, who worried for his little sister, and who had unsuspectingly captured Holly’s heart was the same ruthless and unfettered Jacob Lincoln of Lincoln Holdings.
The clink of china from the dining room jolted Holly from her puzzled reverie. Having no idea how long she had been snooping, she decided it was time to leave.
On her way to the door she passed a chest of drawers. Her mind reeling to a conversation she’d had with Beth a few days before, Holly turned back and opened the top drawer. She stared at the contents for a long moment before shutting the drawer quietly.
‘Definitely time to go home,’ she whispered aloud as she walked out of the room.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
HOLLY walked into the main room determined to find her host so that she could make her excuses and leave. The table had been cleared and cleaned but there was no sign of Jacob. She moved to the hearth to wait for him to return. Her skin tingled from a mixture of the sizzling heat of the fire and a whole different warmth that had lit her from within since she’d come to realise that she was in love.
She caught sight of something hidden in a shadowy corner, and moved in that direction for a closer look, when the lights in that corner sprang on in a blinding flash.
Holly screamed as she spun around, her eyes searching wildly for Jacob. He was near the front doorway, his hands moving down from a bank of light switches on the wall by his shoulder.
‘Sorry,’ he said as he sauntered towards her. All signs of the reclusive man from dinner had vanished and he was replaced with a Jacob she had not seen before. The approving warmth in his eyes was so unmistakable, for the first time she felt like she was the hunted.
‘I didn’t mean to startle you,’ he said, his voice low and husky. ‘I knew you were heading to my bag so I thought I’d make it easier for you to have a nose around.’
‘Your bag?’ Holly asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Jacob held out his arm motioning her towards the corner. She turned back to see a red punching bag hanging there sedately.
She swallowed hard. It was colossal. Taller than her by half. Thick metallic chains ran from both ends, connecting the bag to large matching steel plates bolted to the floor and ceiling.
Taking the last few steps towards the bag, she reached out tentatively and gave it a slight push. The heavy bag barely moved. She pulled her hand away as thought burnt by the touch, rubbing her fingers together committing to memory the rough, cool feel of the worn leather.
Jacob joined her, his hands on hips and his eyes bright. ‘When I refurbished the place I had the roof and floor reinforced so as to take its weight. Do you want a go?’
He slapped the bag playfully a couple of times. Holly baulked, her pulse quickening in loathing at the thought. She backed away holding up her hands defensively.
‘No, thank you.’
‘Are you sure? It’s great fun.’
‘Sorry. I have no interest in beating up a big red bag that has never done anything to deserve my wrath.’
‘It’s good for releasing tension. And it’s excellent exercise. It’ll