Page 15

I blinked away the sleep and stretched. “What time is it?”

“Seven twenty. Dinner is served at seven thirty. I’d like you to ensure you are always sitting at the table at that time.” My heart leaped into my throat as Jacob leaned over me, placing a light kiss on my forehead; his order to be at the dinner table at a set time fading into the distance. “I’ll leave you to get ready.”

It took several seconds after he closed the door behind him to engage my brain and ignore the fire burning on the spot he’d kissed. If a kiss to my head made me like that, what would it feel like if he kissed me properly?

I shook my head. What was I even thinking?

Jacob was much older than me, and no doubt more experienced with the opposite sex. He was probably trying to make me feel welcome in his home, for which I still had no clue why he’d wanted to claim me from my parents in the first place.

But if he wasn’t attracted to me, why was he constantly watching me or finding ways to touch me? A spark of hope ignited under my skin, one I tried to ignore and not let myself get carried away into a fantasy.

Dragging myself off the bed and to the bathroom, I paused when, from the corner of my eye, I found a black strapless dress and heeled shoes waiting for me on the table. My feet moved on their own, and as I reached the table, I picked up the note sitting on top of the clothes, just like this morning.

Angel,

I thought you might like to change into something else for our dinner together, so I picked out this dress for you.

Please don’t be late.

-Jx

Anger stirred in the pit of my stomach. He’d ignored me earlier when I told him I wanted to choose clothes for myself, and while I accepted that the only clothes I had access to—because I’d searched through the enormous wardrobe earlier and found only men’s clothes—were the ones I’d worn for over twenty-four hours, I didn’t like being told what to wear.

Nor did I want to wear the dress that would expose a lot more flesh than I was comfortable with.

It might have been petty, and I was certain he was only trying to make me feel at home, but choosing what to wear was the only thing I had a choice over, and I wasn’t willing to give that up.

Much like I’d done this morning, I dropped the note back on the table, visited the bathroom to freshen up, before strolling out of the bedroom with my head held high and my own clothes on my back.

Jacob was at the dining room table when I made it downstairs, remembering the dining room could be accessed via the drawing room to avoid going through the kitchen. His eyes traveled over my body, but if he was displeased that I hadn’t put the dress on he’d picked out for me, he didn’t show the slightest hint of it.

“Angel, please sit,” he said, standing to pull out the chair next to where he sat at the top of the table.

Nerves swam in my belly as I walked to the seat, my anger reduced to a simmer at his attempt to control me. Why did he have to be so damn good-looking? If he wasn’t, it would have made it a whole lot easier to hold onto my fury.

Taking the seat, he smiled warmly, reaching across the table to pour a glass of wine from the bottle chilling in a wine cooler between our place settings. “Oh,” I said when he slid it to me. “I’m not old enough to drink.”

Internally, I cursed myself for sounding like an immature little girl, but Jacob winked at me.

“I won’t tell if you don’t.”

He slid the glass forward a little more, oblivious to my pulse spiking like crazy. With a shaky hand, I lifted the glass to my mouth and took a small sip, relishing it as the crisp wine coated my taste buds. It was the first time I’d ever been allowed to try wine, and I licked my lips to lap up every drop.

Lost in his gaze on me, I flinched when Wallace opened the door that led to the kitchen, carrying two plates under cloches, and placing them in front of Jacob and me. He pulled the cloches off, revealing a dinner of grilled sea bass, new potatoes, and asparagus stalks.

Taking Jacob’s cue, I copied him as he picked up his cutlery and began tucking into his dinner. My mouth watered, and for most of our meal, we ate in silence, yet Jacob’s gaze rarely left me.

Once we were finished, Jacob filled my wine glass up again before leaning back in his seat. “Tell me about your friends.”

“My friends?” I repeated stupidly, my brows lifting.

Maybe I was on my way to a food coma, or the glass of wine I’d drunk while eating was having an effect on me because my brain was starting to feel sluggish, and despite sleeping for several hours in the afternoon, I felt like I could go back to bed.

“Yes, angel. You have friends, right?”

I nodded, unable to resist taking another sip of wine. “Yes, but there isn’t much to say. There’s Jenna. We’ve been friends since we were ten years old.”

“Do you like her?”