Free Climbing High by Madelon Smid Page B

feet away. Gribbs escorted them too it, then settled into the front seat beside another muscular driver.
    “Home, James,” Jake ordered, then smiled with satisfaction when Gribbs scowled. “He’s so easy,” he whispered to her in tones loud enough for Gribbs to hear. He settled himself in a seat across from her and pressed the button that raised the glass partition.
    Siree’s exhalation sighed out in harmony with the swish of the rising shield. She slanted her ankles to the side, pressed her knees together and laid her hands lightly in her lap. Mom would be so proud of me . She groaned inwardly at her prissy attitude.
    He seemed to delight in it. His wicked gaze swept from her slender ankles up to the place on her thighs where her short skirt left a tiny gap. She moved her hands to take weight off the skirt and discovered it only made it worse. Under pressure, the gap rose higher, hinting at the skin of her inner thighs. Horrified, she looked over to see if Jake had seen, only to find his eyes brimming with a wicked appreciation of her unwitting show.
    “Oh, give it a rest,” she snapped.
    His eyes widened, his breath caught in his windpipe and he laughed and coughed himself hoarse. “Only you”—he shook his head at her when he could finally speak again—“only you.”
    She never had a chance to ask, “Only me what?” because the limo drove into the underground garage beneath Jake’s condo. He marched her into another elevator and up to his penthouse apartment on the sixty-second floor of the Saigon Princess, one of the tallest buildings in Vancouver. Her study of JDI’s financials showed JDI owned a big piece of the building.
    Jake peeled off his suit jacket and pulled off his tie just inside the door. Throwing them onto the back of a curving sofa, he hit a series of buttons on a panel that triggered security and lowered power-driven privacy screens across the huge windows on three sides of the room. “Make yourself at home,” he suggested. “There’s a powder room at the end of that hall, where you can wash up.”
    “I just want to tell you where I am in the search and go home to bed.” She sank onto the contoured sofa with a weary exhalation.
    “Oh, no.” He strode across to her, closed his hand around her wrist and lifted her to her feet again. “I leave you here while I make you something to eat and you’ll be asleep when I get back. You need some food, and I need my update.” He pulled her to her feet and herded her into a huge kitchen. She sank onto a chrome and leather swivel chair at the counter, pulled her mobile from her blazer pocket and texted her mother. I’m with the boss.
    “Don’t want Mom to worry about me,” she responded to his raised brows.
    Jake leaned over a wine cooler, his long fingers tapping across bottles before seizing one by the neck. He cursed himself for setting up the meeting without checking Siree’s condition. Now he had to ram it through despite her exhaustion. But at least he could look after her for a little while before Gribbs saw her home. Caring for her felt strangely satisfying.
    “This should give you enough of a buzz to get you through the next hour.” He turned in time to watch her hair tumble loose and fall in gleaming strands halfway to the floor.
    She dropped a handful of pins on the counter.
    Jesus. Talk about letting down your hair. And she doesn’t even know what she’s doing to me. That’s some level of trust. Hell, how am I supposed to hold myself back?
    Unaware of his rapt attention, she threaded her fingers into her hair at the temples and fluffed it out. She arched to get it to fall over the back of the chair. Her breasts rose as she lightly massaged her scalp.
    He bit back a groan, turning away to hide his instant response. Semi-hard seemed to be his default position these days. Either he reacted to Siree directly, thought about her or dreamed about her, steamy erotica that left him restless and tired through the day. If she