Riding in the SUV one of her assistants had arranged from Ben Gurion to Tel Aviv, Rose blurted out what she’d been thinking, “I just kidnapped you.”
Jac turned to her from looking out the window like a little boy on Christmas Day, checking out the sights with a huge smile, nearly bouncing in his seat. Damn, he was adorable with his enthusiasm for…just about everything.
She also saw the driver’s eyes flicker in her direction in the review mirror.
She sighed, wanting a tad more privacy but had promised herself she’d never become one of those people who put a barrier between herself and her drivers.
Jac snorted. “You’re so funny today.”
It was the second time he’d said as much since she’d woken. The guilt of forcing him to come with her on this trip had gotten to her, so when she’d been asked, “Anything to declare?” at customs, she’d said she was running away and had taken him with her. Jac was right behind her and had laughed, very loudly, explaining she was just being silly, then had whispered how making jokes like that where Mossad originated might not be a good thing.
He’d gotten so close, his blond beard—she’d never even seen a blond beard before him and was constantly amazed at the thickness and gold and red colors—tickling against her cheek, his warmth penetrating, his breath against skin so sensitive she’d shuddered. She couldn’t stop thinking of that whisper, of how he gently held one of her arms, of how he’d created a bubble for just the two of them, and of how she’d suddenly come alive during that moment, feeling her body sizzle with something delicious filtering through her skin, rather than the numbness of grief.
Which then, of course, made her feel all the worse.
She turned more toward him in the back of the SUV. “Jac, we’re really in Israel.”
He nodded. “I know. Even the roads are amazing. It’s a lot to take in. Just so lovely. Ah! A palm tree!”
“I made you come with me.”
He scoffed as he glanced at her, but the scenery beckoned, and he was yet again gazing out the window. “Are you being serious?”
She couldn’t look at him but nodded.
He must have caught the nod from his periphery because she had his full attention again as he snorted. “How? Did you hypnotize me because I’ve heard it doesn’t work like that.”
She pursed her lips. “You’re not being serious.”
“Of course not, Rose.”
Oh. Whenever he said her name, her body crackled and shuddered and it felt like confetti was flying inside her. Still, she pursed her lips all the more.
“You didn’t force me to come with you,” Jac said while laughing.
“I emotionally blackmailed you.”
He made the snorting noise again.
“I did.”
He narrowed his eyes and shook his head.
“I’m grieving. Who would say no to me now?”
His face fell. Rose was sure the way his face slackened, even the color draining a little, she was right, which hurt a damned hell of a lot more than it should.
He scooted closer to her on the bench seat, though his seatbelt wouldn’t allow him to move much. “No, Rose. Just no. I could say no if I wanted to. I want to be here. Truly.”
Her eyes stung. She hated how she cried all the time now. She wasn’t even sure why she was crying, though she was doing everything possible to make the moisture stay glued to her eyes and not let one drop fall.
He reached for her hand and held it. “I want to be here…with you.”
She had to look away from him when one stupid drop fell down her cheek. Angrily wiping it away, she wondered how much of this new fragile persona had, in fact, forced him to comply to her wishes.
But then again she’d been wondering since Lily’s death if she had any real friends or if she’d just forced them in her life, like she had Jac. Had she taken after Ted and manipulated people to be with her? When she was young, she didn’t really have friends. Sure, being isolated on the farm and isolated because of Ted’s erratic behavior had a lot to do with it. But how much was just her?
At thirteen, both Laney and Charli had moved to Hardin and were new to her class. Rose had walked up to both of them and told them they were going to be the best of friends. Then they were.
But did they ever want to be?
They’d gown apart as adults, but when Laney had breast cancer, Rose thought they came back together so wonderfully. Organically. But analyzing it, she realized, she’d just forced herself on Charli, then they’d forced themselves back in Laney’s life. Laney had needed people and support because she was getting the mastectomy, and only had Joe to support her, since her sister was basically out of the picture.
Yet again, Rose had forced herself on her friends, people who didn’t want to turn her away, and now she was an orphan, forcing herself on even more people. Forcing herself on Jac, who said she hadn’t done that. But come on.
Another tear fell.
He lifted the hand he was gently holding, placing something soft in her palm. She turned and looked down at the tissue he’d placed there.
He made a small noise—something between an “oh” and a sympathetic growl—and wiped her tear away with the pad of his thumb. “I’m here because I want to be,” he said that with a fair amount of intensity, his blue eyes so bright they made their own light.
That kind of intensity fed into her newest fantasies of him being a Viking. She imagined him in chainmail and dirt streaked on his face, yet he gently wiped another tear that fell from her eye. Her gentle Viking. Wasn’t there a Harlequin with that title? There should be. She’d look it up when she was alone in her hotel room because god knew she wasn’t going to sleep very much. She’d need something to do with herself while he slept in the room next to hers.
His face grew more intense but he exhaled, something minty wafting through the air. “What do you want to do first, hmm? Shall we take a walk around the hotel and look at the palm trees? Or do you want to—”
“Are you hungry?”
He smiled, his hand falling back to his side. “We should eat, yeah?”
He sounded very Scandinavian at that, and she couldn’t help but smile.
“I should feed my captive,” she tried to joke, though when trying to repress tears, it just came across as nutty, she was sure.
He shook his head, a playfully reprimanding shake, and straightened away from her. Then—pain—he stopped holding her hand. She’d liked that. His warmth always dug in deep and made her feel like something sparkled inside.
Surprising her, he leaned toward her again, even closer. “Maybe it was me who kidnapped you, yeah? Maybe I’m an evil mastermind.” Her gentle Viking laughed at his own joke, something she loved to see. “Maybe I should feed my captive.”
One reason why she took an instant liking to Jac was because he wasn’t like anyone she’d ever met. Not just unlike any other man—he was different from everyone. For years, she tried to figure out that difference, like some mathematicians spend decades on a theorem. She’d gotten obsessed trying to put her finger on what made him so unique. Then, one spring when she was visiting Lily, she’d come upon him in the barn, feeding a brand-new fawn from a giant bottle. She’d instantly gotten irate, knowing many people mistake a fawn being alone as abandoned, but in reality, it was a deer’s best survival technique that the mother leave the newborn for hours at a time so she can refuel her body and not have predators know of the fawn’s whereabouts.
Rose didn’t want to cause alarm to the little Bambi, so she whispered in a hiss, “Did you take it from its mother?”
Jac had stayed calm and glanced at her while shaking his head. “Someone hit her mother and twin sister on the highway, killed them both.” He said something in Danish, something sweet to the fawn and had petted the hungry animal’s ear. “The vet called and asked if I could look after her, be a foster mother until she wants to live on her own. She likes the horses, and they like her.”
He hadn’t taken offense that Rose had assumed him one of those people who didn’t know about a fawn’s survival techniques. He hadn’t bristled at her tone. When he’d looked at her, he seemed to completely understand why she’d instantly gotten upset and just wanted to reassure her that he was doing the right thing. Plus, she loved that he called himself a foster mother.
That’s when she understood who he was at his core: he was the biggest-hearted person she’d ever met. Considerate, generous, and fair, he was constantly honest and just. Granted, Rose had met a few people like that—her best friends for instance. But Jac was beyond the scope. No matter what she might throw at him, he always evaluated it, analyzed it, then talked it over with her. And every time, she felt seen. She felt like he saw all of her, even the things she hid from herself. And despite seeing all of her, he never rejected her.
That gorgeous little deer left that fall but returned every spring to hang out with the horses. When she was four, she had her first fawn herself. And now, a small group of deer always made a stop at the farm every spring, though Jac kept his distance, but he always waved and could pick out which one was his foster daughter.
It wasn’t a coincidence that Rose would time her trips to Montana to be in late May when fawns were born. And it wasn’t just to see the little spotted babies in the grass. It was to see Jac, his heart on his sleeve, so vulnerably open, and Rose would have fantasies that a man like that might have a big enough heart for someone like her, though that would be asking too much from this world and him, so she wouldn’t let the fantasies go far.
She looked at him now, smiling at the joke that he was an evil mastermind. For just a second in time, she wondered if he truly did want to be here with her, running away from everything she knew, all her responsibilities, and especially her grief. But grief never allows us to run away. She felt a phantom wisp of her mother, giggling with Jac. Her heart squeezed so hard. So good and so hard.
“So we’ll get settled in our hotel rooms—”
“Rooms?” he asked.
“Of course I got us each our own room.” It wouldn’t be proper not to have done that. But because he was him and she was her, she conceded, “They’re right next door to each other.”
“Ah.”
“Anyway, we’ll get settled in our rooms, then figure out dinner.”
“I don’t even know what I’m hungry for,” he said with a wide smile. “Maybe a bit of bread.” He wagged his blond brows.
She couldn’t help but smile yet again then ducked her head and tried to hide it, feeling a spirit continue to laugh and warm her heart, even as she wondered if her grief had conned the big guy beside her into coming on this trip.
Jac’s hotel phone rang and he smiled, thinking it was Rose checking to see his progress on their plans.
Instead, a professional and beautifully accented woman greeted him after he answered.
“Mr. Thorn, this is Tamar, one of your concierges.”
“Good evening,” Jac said, then remembered it was not the evening. “I mean morning.” He laughed.
Tamar laughed too which he appreciated. “Jet lagged? I can help with that. Perhaps you might like a sleeping mask? Some Mediterranean lavender-scented pillowcases?”
“That’s rather kind of you to offer.”
“Kind of you to say.”
Through the professional courtesies, he could tell that Tamar was wicked smart and funny. He liked her already.
“I’m calling,” she continued, “to inform you that your host, Ms. Standing Deer, will not be joining you for today’s plans.”
He didn’t mean to say anything or voice his disappointment, but his throat had other plans. He must have moaned because Tamar immediately responded by saying, “I’m terribly sorry. She said she was feeling okay because she knew you’d check if she wasn’t feeling well, but that she’s ‘not herself just yet.’ That’s a quote.”
“I see.”
Tamar and Rose were right. He’d have kicked down Rose’s door if she wasn’t well. And he understood if she needed space. Hell, in the last ten days they’d nearly been inseparable, even though she had a phone usually glued to one of her ears. (Once, he caught her with two phones and had quietly snickered while she playfully rolled her eyes.)
The problem was he was fairly certain Rose not feeling like herself had more to do with their conversation in the car. She hadn’t emotionally blackmailed him to be here. Not at all. Sure, he was surprised he was in Israel. In one of the world’s most luxurious hotels, no less. Something he did not need—all the fine linen and a lovely concierge who knew his personal business now. Oh, and there were the little chocolates on the pillows, though at first Jac had thought it was a small piece of gold. After unwrapping the candy, he happily munched on his Wispa Gold Bar looking up what a Wispa Gold Bar was on his phone when he read the sale price: $1,600. He’d nearly choked on his Wispa Gold Bar at that.
“But I can help you plan your day today,” Tamar said, “if you’d like.”
He was exhausted from sitting in the plane, though that was luxurious beyond anything he could have imagined too. He was worried about Rose. And yes, he did want to see Tel Aviv. My god, the city was gorgeous and fascinating—beaches, modern architecture with skyscrapers, ancient ruins, and so much more. He’d love to explore. But not without Rose.
“Well,” Jac said, trying to figure out a professional-sounding way to reject Tamar’s offer.
“We have our Tel Aviv Museum of Art which contains works by Degas, Monet, Van Gogh, Henry Moore, Picasso, Jackson Pollock.”
“I’m not much of an art guy,” he said. “Though I appreciate it and am gobsmacked by the talent, but I’m the kind of guy who is also impressed by chainsaw statues of bears. So…”
Tamar softly giggled and not in a degrading manner. “You want a real taste of Tel Aviv? You want people and music and food without fussiness?”
“Yes, that sounds wonderful, though I was hoping to explore that with…well, with Rose.”
“Ah, I see.” Tamar inhaled. “I have planned for you both to tour Jaffa with its preserved acropolis and restored stone architecture tomorrow. It has a bizarre that features some of the best restaurants in the world.”
“Sounds swanky.”
Tamar giggled. “It is. For you, for today, sir—”
“Jac, please.”
“Jac, for today, you might like to visit the Yemenite Quarter. In it is the Carmel Market where you can find something truly delicious but sold from food trucks or other, shall we say, colorful vendors.”
“That sounds perfect for me.”
“Would you like me to get a car for you?”
“I can take a bus, can’t I?”
“I believe Ms. Standing Deer would not allow you to take a bus and would have my job if I let you do that.”
He ruefully laughed. “We wouldn’t want that.”
Tamar chuckled herself. “No, we wouldn’t.”
Jac’s stomach growled. The white chocolate and macadamia nut cookies and the thousand-dollar chocolate bar was not holding him over. He’d go to the market, where he hoped to find some fresh fruit, and eat, check out a few sights, then come back to the hotel and try not to be too disappointed that Rose was not seeing him today.
“All right, Tamar, please call up a car. You mean a driver is with the car too, don’t you?”
“I do, yes. To make your stay with us all the more comfortable and so you don’t get lost.”
“Hmm, well, sometimes I like getting lost in new-to-me cities.”
“I can tell your driver as much. He or she can pretend to get lost if that is your wish.”
He chuckled. “No. No, thank you. But, ah,” he wasn’t sure how to ask what was on his mind without sounding lonely and weird, but he decided to chance it since Tamar sounded wonderfully understanding, “can the driver come with me to the Carmel Market? So I can feed him or her too?”
“Usually, we have our drivers wait in the car.”
“But that sounds…not fun.”
Tamar chuckled again. “I’ll see if I can find a driver who would also like to enjoy the market with you, Mr. Thorn.”
“Jac.”
“Jac, yes. Sorry,” Tamar said. “Would you like a driver who is also a bit of a tour guide?”
“One who likes to eat a lot too.”
Tamar softly chuckled. “Certainly.”
“And, Tamar?”
“Yes, Mr. Thor—Jac?”
“Thank you for being so kind.”
“Truly, Jac, it is my pleasure.”
He got off the phone shortly after and stared at the adjoining door between his room and Rose’s. So she was avoiding him but would see him tomorrow. Hrmph. That was no good. He didn’t want her to feel guilt or worse, shame, for this trip. That was the last thing he wanted. But how to show her that there was no need for such feelings when she wouldn’t see him?
Maybe his driver/tour guide could help him think of something.