Disillusioned (Swept Away, #2)(46)

“Is he more than a friend?” Jakob’s eyes narrowed and a hint of jealousy was in his tone.

“No, not at all.”

“Good.” He smiled suddenly. “I don’t mind if he helps, then.”

“Really?” I was confused.

“I want to know what happened with Steve as badly as you do. If he can help us with more information, that’s great. Especially if there is nothing romantic between you.”

I rolled my eyes, secretly pleased that he was jealous.

“I believe you, but, of course, I’ll have to come with you when you meet him.” Jakob’s eyes narrowed. “So that I can hear the information he provides at the same time.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Don’t uh-huh me.” He kissed me softly.

“I’ll uh-huh you if I want to.” I kissed him back.

“So we’re good?” He leaned back, his expression more serious as he examined my face. “We trust each other now? We’re working together now?”

I stared back at him for a few minutes, neither of us talking, just observing. He grabbed my hands and held them in his. I could feel his pulse racing and the tension in his body. His shoulders were stiff and his eyes were alert as he waited for my answer.

I went with my gut. “I do trust you. Let’s figure this out.”

“We’re starting afresh now.” He stroked my cheek tenderly, a wide smile on his face. “We’ve got this.”

“I sure hope so,” I whispered to myself as we made our way down the stairs.



God must have been smiling on Jakob. For some reason, his car was still parked in the loading zone with no clamp or ticket. We got into the car in silence, the warm, fuzzy feeling of sex in the shower long gone.

“You’re going to be silent all the way?” He glanced at me as he started his car.

“What do I have to say?” I shrugged. “I’m still taking everything in. You’re the one who needs to start talking.”

“You’re so stubborn.” He sighed. “Of all the women in the world . . .”

“Of all the women in the world what?” My voice rose.

“I got stuck with you.”

“You got stuck with me?” My jaw dropped. “Is that a f*cking joke?”

“Did you just learn the F-bomb?” He glanced at me. “I didn’t mean stuck with you in a bad way. I was teasing you. We just had a nice moment, no need to ruin it.”

“Excuse me?” I looked at him again and hid a smile. Two could play this game.

“You’ve been saying f*ck a lot.”

My jaw dropped. “Are you seriously on my case about my language?” Don’t laugh, Bianca.

“The profanity, yes.” He laughed. “There’s no need to swear so much.”

“Fuck, f*ck, f*ck, f*ckity f*ck f*ck, f*ck off, you f*cked-up piece of shit!” I fake-shouted at him, then burst out laughing in hysterics. “You should have seen your face just now.” I giggled. “You looked so worried.”

“Feel better?” He glanced at me with an eyebrow raised.

“You think you’re so cool, don’t you?” I stared at his profile. I felt so lighthearted being with him in this moment. A small seed of hope had taken root in my heart after our conversation, and for the first time ever I felt completely confident and comfortable with him.

“You think I’m cool, don’t you?” He smiled at me and turned onto the freeway. “By the way, you haven’t responded.”

“Responded to what?”

“My declaration of love.”

“What declaration of love?” I rolled my eyes, my heart beating fast. Was this really the time? I wanted to hear it, but I was scared to respond. I didn’t want us to move too quickly. The circumstances of our meeting were so extraordinary—what if that was the sole basis for our heightened feelings?

“I’ve told you twice now.” He sounded unsure of himself.

“You told me what?”

“That I love you.”

“No, you didn’t. You said that you think you’re falling in love with me. That’s not the same.” I paused. “And that’s stupid, anyway.”

“Why is it stupid?” he said softly.

“You don’t do love, and you kidnapped me.” I can’t let myself believe that he loves me. Not yet.

“Things change.”

“Kidnapping someone doesn’t change.” I turned to him. “That happened and can’t be changed.” Though I’m falling in love with you as well, but I’m too chicken to tell you.

“I’m falling in love with you, Bianca,” he said again gently. “That complicates things, I know, but it doesn’t have to.”

“What things?” I asked softly, my brain going fuzzy. Did he really love me? Was he telling the truth? Should I tell him that I felt the same way?

“How do you feel?” For the first time, he sounded unsure.

“Feel about what?”

It was his turn to snap. “Bianca.”

“I don’t know,” I lied. I already knew that I was in love with him.

“I see.” He reached over and turned the radio on. “You don’t have to sleep in my bed if that’s what you’re worried about.”