Summer Vows

“What made you decide to strike out on your own?”

“It had to be impulsivity or a temporary lapse of common sense. When Daddy finally did talk to me he said that if I’d wanted to go off and see the world, then he would’ve hired a chaperone to accompany me wherever I wanted to go. The fact that I didn’t trust him enough to tell him of my plan hurt him more than I could’ve imagined. He reminded me of that when the rumor about bad blood between Serenity and Slow Wyne was made public.”

“You didn’t tell him about what went down between you and Basil Irvine?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because if my father hadn’t thought I was capable enough to run the company, then he wouldn’t have relinquished control once he decided to retire. Would you have asked my brother that question if he were CEO?”

A frown settled into Jacob’s features. “It’s not about gender, Ana.”

“Then what is it about?” she asked, her voice rising in annoyance.

There was only the sound of the slip-slap of rubber on the roadway as he drove onto the Long Key Channel. “It’s about trust and respect,” Jacob said softly. “It couldn’t have been easy for your dad to start up a new record label when he had to compete with legendary giants like Atlantic, Capitol, Sony, Epic and RCA. Nowadays you have to go head-to-head with Virgin, Interscope, Slow Wyne and Island Records Def Jam and Roc-A-Fella. The genre and players may have changed, but the business is still the same.”

“How do you know so much about record companies?” There was no mistaking the awe in her tone.

“I read a lot,” Jacob said glibly. “I need you to answer one question for me.”

“What’s that?”

“Are you feuding with Basil Irvine?”

“No. Basil has been in business long enough to know he can’t win every negotiation. Justin Glover isn’t the first artist he’s failed to sign to his label and I’m certain he won’t be the last. I’ve lost count of the number of performers we’ve lost to other labels for one reason or another. I just suck it up and move on.”

“Maybe that’s because you’re a gracious loser. I don’t like to keep bringing up gender, but you have to remember you’re a woman, so someone with an ego like Irvine’s isn’t going to accept defeat as graciously from a woman as he would from a man.”

Ana knew Jacob was right about her gender when it came to Basil, but she wasn’t about to admit that openly. Basil had earned a reputation as an astute and aggressive businessman, and despite his reputation as a misogynist women still fell over themselves to be seen with him.

Jacob turned off onto Royce Creek Drive, driving a short distance before pulling into the driveway of a two-story house. Maneuvering under a carport, he lowered the windows, and then cut off the engine. He rested a hand on Ana’s shoulder. “Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”

Unbuckling her seat belt, she shifted on the seat in an attempt to take in her surroundings. One side of Jacob’s house overlooked a canal with direct access to the Atlantic Ocean. Ana smiled when she thought of waking up to water views. Her favorite pastime was sitting on her condo’s balcony at sunset drinking a chai latte. It was as if all the stress of the day faded as the sun sank lower in the horizon before disappearing and leaving the darkening sky with splashes of red and orange.

She didn’t have to wait long. Jacob returned, sans the hat he should’ve discarded a long time ago. To say he wasn’t into fashion was an understatement. She did recall him wearing a suit to the baptism, but that was expected because it was held in a church. What she couldn’t remember was him being at Diego’s wedding.

Ana stared, her eyes becoming wider behind her glasses as Jacob came closer. Without the hat she was able see all of his face. Her gaze lingered on the elegant ridge of his cheekbones before moving down to his sensual, masculine mouth. She found her protector to be genuinely handsome, and she could not imagine why he didn’t have a wife or a girlfriend. The only alternative was that he wasn’t into women. That would have been devastating because he was the epitome of masculinity. His cropped black hair, tall, broad-shouldered physique, lithe stride and soothing, modulated deep voice should have drawn women to him like moths to a flame.

Jacob opened the passenger-side door and extended his arms. Placing her hands on his shoulders, Ana found herself cradled to his hard chest before he slowly lowered her feet to the ground. “You can go in now and look around while I bring in your bags.”

She walked in through the side door, finding herself in a space that doubled as a pantry, laundry room and a place where Jacob had stored tool boxes, fishing rods and other boating equipment. A trio of bright orange life vests hung from hooks on the wall along with two racing bikes suspended from a rack. She then entered an all-white state-of-the-art kitchen. Beyond the kitchen was a living/dining room with a vaulted ceiling. A curving black wrought-iron staircase led to a loft. All of the floors on the first level were gleaming black slate, a shocking contrast to the lighter colored furnishings.

The house was airy, filled with an abundance of light, and spotless, and Ana wondered perhaps if Jacob employed a cleaning service. Ceiling fans in the living and dining rooms turned on at the lowest speed, dispelled the build-up of heat. She heard barking and went to investigate. She’d grown up with a menagerie of pets, but the condo where she now lived did not allow pets of any kind.

Making her way to the back of the house, she stared through French doors at a magnificent German shepherd locked in a large crate under a black-and-white-striped awning. She’d just unlocked the doors and opened them when Jacob’s command stopped her.

“Don’t go near him!”

She turned, seeing the frown between his eyes. “Why not?”

“He’ll hurt you.”

Ana froze. “What do you mean he’ll hurt me?”

“If he doesn’t know you, he’ll attack.”

She blinked once. “Why would you want to keep a dog like that around?”

Jacob shifted her bags under his arms. “He doesn’t belong to me. I’m watching him for a friend who went on a fishing trip.”

“Is that why you keep him locked up?”

“I only put him in the crate because you’re here.”

“You can’t keep him caged just because I’m here, Jacob. That’s cruel.”

“After he gets used to your scent you’ll be all right.”

“How long will that take?” she asked.

“It shouldn’t take more than a couple of days.”

“That’s two days too long.”

Jacob’s frown deepened. “What do you want me to do? Open the cage and when he goes for your throat shoot him?”

Ana felt her temper rising and counted slowly to herself. She didn’t want to say something that she would later come to regret. “No. I don’t want you to shoot him.”

“If that’s the case, then please let me handle this situation my way. As a matter of fact every decision I’ll make for as long as you’ll reside here will be to protect you. If you decide to challenge me, then I’ll call Diego and have him take you to Brazil.”

The seconds ticked as she stared at him. “Why are you mentioning Brazil?” she asked, whispering.

“That’s where you were headed if I hadn’t offered to let you stay with me. What’s the matter?” Jacob taunted. “Cat got your tongue?”

Clenching her teeth, seething with anger, Ana stiffened as if she’d been struck across the face. It had been less than an hour since the jet had touched down in the Keys and she knew it wasn’t going to be easy sharing a roof with Jacob. And she had no idea that her family had considered sending her to stay with her cousin Regina Cole-Spencer.

Ana had been to Salvador da Bahia for Carnivale. Regina and her husband, pediatric-microbiologist Aaron Spencer, lived on a coffee plantation in the middle of what looked like a jungle. After partying nonstop for days, she’d return to their beautiful estate, collapsing in exhaustion until it was time to return to the States. She didn’t think she would survive living in Bahia for an extended visit. Although she spoke fluent Spanish, there was a lot of Portuguese that she did not understand.

“Can you please show me to my room?” She wasn’t going to give Jacob the satisfaction of acknowledging that he’d won.

“I take it you’re staying and you’re also willing to follow my orders?”

She lifted her chin and met his eyes with a smile that did not quite reach hers. “Yes, it does.”

Jacob chuckled under his breath. “I thought you’d see it my way.” He headed toward the staircase, leaving her to follow. “I fired the maid and that means you’ll have to make your bed, do your own laundry and pick up after yourself.”

Ana stared at the bright green leaves on his black-and-yellow shirt. “I don’t know how to do laundry.”

He stopped on the landing, staring at her in shock. “Who does your laundry?”

“I send it out. I call concierge and arrange for it to be picked up.”

Jacob shook his head as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Can you at least clean?”

She gave him a look of unadulterated innocence. “No.”

“I suppose you have a cleaning service?” She nodded. “What do you know how to do?”

Her expression brightened. “I can cook. Very well,” Ana added when he gave her a skeptical look. “My parents were both raised with household help who cleaned and did laundry. However, both know how to cook. My mother’s skills are exceptional and she taught all her children to cook so they wouldn’t have to rely on someone to feed them.”

“Okay,” he drawled after a pause. “Let’s make a deal.”

“What kind of deal?” she asked.

“I’ll clean and do laundry while you cook.”

“Who cleans now?”

He smiled. “I do. I don’t like strangers in my home. Come, Princess. Let’s get you settled. And because it’s the first night at the Jones motel I’ll do the cooking.”

Ana followed Jacob into a large sun-filled room with white furniture. The pristine color was offset by pillows, seat cushions and the bed dressing in tropical colors of peach, orange and kiwi-green. She knew instinctually that a woman had decorated Jacob’s house, because it claimed a soft touch and everything was chosen with a discerning eye for the climate and locale.

“Do I have time to take a shower and change into something cooler?” She had to get out of the jeans and T-shirt she’d hastily thrown on when Diego told her she was leaving Boca Raton.

“Sure,” Jacob replied. “The bathroom is the door on the right. The walk-in closet is to the left. I’ll bring your other bags up and leave them outside the door.”

“What’s for dinner?” she asked when he turned to leave.

“It’s a surprise,” he answered.

And you’re quite the surprise, Ana mused. She didn’t know what to expect when told she would have a U.S. Marshal protecting her, but she hadn’t expected someone whose moods ran hot and cold as if flipping a switch. He laughed, frowned, joked and then had become deadly serious when he talked about shooting the dog.

He’d barked commands like a drill sergeant, expecting her follow them without question. Well, she would do his bidding and when the time came for her to return to Boca Raton she would do so without a backward glance.

“How do you know if I don’t have food allergies?”

“Diego told me you didn’t have any. I know everything about you, Ana Juanita Cole, so let’s try and cooperate with each other, and I’ll try and make your stay a pleasant one because that’s what I promised your cousin. I’ll see you later.”

Ana stared at the spot where Jacob had been after he’d left the bedroom, softly closing the door behind him. She smiled. He’d said cooperate and she would, because she would make certain to limit their direct contact to meals. Not only had she packed enough clothes to last a month. She had also packed a number of books from her to-be-read list. When Jason had given her a tablet for Christmas he’d downloaded it with all of her favorite titles, and she was figuratively in hog heaven. However, she only used the electronic device when on vacation. Reclining on the beach under an umbrella, reading and sipping a potent concoction had become her guilty pleasure.

Living with Jacob until the person who’d attempted to kill her was apprehended was not what she deemed a vacation. Instead of bringing the tablet, Ana had decided holding a book would send a signal to Jacob that she didn’t want to be bothered or disturbed.

What she didn’t want to believe was that her life was now on hold because some maniac had taken out a hit on her. She’d stopped at the hospital to see Tyler, and Ana couldn’t believe that he could joke that the Coles were tough men and it would take more than a high-powered bullet to take them out. He’d laughed when she’d wanted to cry.

In two weeks she was to go on vacation with several of her college friends. They’d arranged to charter a sloop, using it as their hotel, and sail down to Puerto Rico for ten days of complete hedonism. However, they would have to go without her while she was on what amounted to house arrest in the Florida Keys.

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