Blind Dates and Other Disasters: The Wedding Wish. Элли Блейк

kept walking backwards, putting herself as far from the bag and Jacob’s flailing fists as possible. ‘If I hadn’t discovered those muscles to date I’m sure I can get through the next fifty years without them.’ She kept her voice light, to stop herself sounding as she felt. Frantic. ‘And aren’t there better ways to release tension than hitting something or someone?’

      ‘I can think of at least one.’

      Holly stopped short. Her eyes flew to Jacob’s and she was all but undone.

      He had stopped bouncing around. His feet were shoulder-width apart, and he had steadied the heavy bag in two hands. His dark soft hair was tousled from the exercise and a lock flopped down his forehead. His eyes were bright and his breathing was heavy.

      If her mind had not already been conjuring up inappropriate sensual images, she would have taken that as a serious invitation. And what an invitation that could have been. The man before her was so male, so virile it was enough to wrench any woman’s heart. Add to that the ‘nobody can touch my heart’ aura he carried with him like a weight across his broad shoulders and he was an irresistible package.

      But the fact that he had long since had Holly’s for the taking meant she was in danger of seeing meaning in his looks and words that were not there. She could almost convince herself she saw her own desire reflected in his bright hazel eyes.

      What a picture she makes, Jacob thought. Her blue eyes flashed and her own heavy breathing was more than a match for his. For someone he once thought cool and calm, she was the most emotive woman he had ever met. Every thought and fancy played across her face the second it crossed her mind. And if she wasn’t careful, he would take the three steps over there and make good her very thoughts and fancies.

      He had thrown the line out in jest. Sort of. But instead of a raised eyebrow and a haughty stare he had been hit with a look of undisguised passion. A silent submission. And it shocked him to his core.

      What would happen if he made good on that throwaway invitation? What an encounter that could be. If only she were that sort of woman.

       If only.

      His mind had been spinning in that direction all night. Who was he kidding? It had been spinning that way for two weeks. And if that look was anything to go by, her mind had been spinning on a similar track.

      But this was not a woman to be toyed with. Ben and Beth’s best friend. He should never have cooked her dinner. She had been right about that from the outset. There was no point. It was too close to home. It would be too complicated.

      But, oh, it would be so sweet.

      Jacob ran a hand through his hair, took a step away from the bag. Time to wipe that mesmerising look from her lovely face. Time to change the subject.

      ‘Do you really have such an objection to boxing or are you just claiming the accepted feminine view for my benefit?’

      Holly blinked.

      That’s better. Dislike me. Fight me. Then she lifted her chin in defiance. Better still.

      ‘And what would I be hoping to gain in coming across as acceptably feminine?’

      He wanted her up and debating. Much safer than standing before him so quiet, so lovely, making him ache through wanting to touch her. He reached out and took hold of the bag once more, needing to distract himself from his runaway thoughts. Better his hands occupied there than reaching out for her.

      ‘All I’m saying is that I’d rather hear your opinion than an expected opinion any day.’

       There, that should get her worked up.

      ‘Truthfully, Jacob, that is my opinion, expected or not,’ she said, seeming to drag the statement from deep within her.

      Jacob watched in chagrin as the fight drained out of her. She deflated before his eyes until she looked so sad, so tired, and so vulnerable, as though she had been pretending to be strong for such a long time and could do it no longer. She could not know how it affected him.

      ‘This all frightens me a little.’ She motioned to the punching bag. ‘The first time we met you yelled at me, a complete stranger in the street, then there was that horrible boxing match at the Fun and Games where you advocated violence to your employees. Then I found those old gloves in what amounts to a shrine in your bedroom, and now this. There seems to be an unsettling pattern forming.’

      The one word that had captured Jacob’s attention had been the word ‘frightens’. Only then did he detect Holly’s panicky expression. Her hands were clasped defensively in front of her chest and her feet were planted firmly as though she was ready to fly at any sign of trouble. And she flinched with every random slap he gave the bag.

      Jacob moved away from the bag, lightly taking Holly’s arm to lead her to sit with him on the big couch by the fire.

      ‘What are you frightened of, Holly?’

      She didn’t answer, just shrugged and swallowed hard, her big blue eyes wide, still focussed on the bag in the distance. Jacob kept hold of both of her hands in one of his. With his other hand he lightly stroked her hair to relax her and kept his voice deliberately soft.

      ‘Big Red over there is just for fun and fitness. Though as a kid I had a good teacher who took me aside and joined me up for elementary boxing classes at a local gym. It taught me how to master my emotions and how to focus on the task in front of me. I put on matches for the staff to teach them those same ideals.’

      ‘And the gloves?’ she asked, her voice subdued and wavering.

      ‘The gloves once belonged to Muhammad Ali and are encased in glass in the safety of my room as they are worth a small fortune.’

      Holly seemed to have relaxed very little. Her eyes had softened and lost that startled look, but she still shook. Jacob’s hands now stroked her hair from her face, behind her ears, around behind her neck. He still sought to relax her but he was also finding the touch exhilarating and was soon doing it for his own benefit as much as hers.

      ‘It’s no big deal, Holly. Really. I mean, Ana has a punching bag at her place. I dare say she uses hers more than I do these days. She loves it. Haven’t you ever done kick boxing, or self defence classes?’

      ‘I take yoga with Beth every week,’ she answered quietly, and then a hesitant smile lit her lovely face. ‘Just plain old yoga, not even power yoga.’

      Jacob shifted in his seat. His heart rate rose after just one quick smile from her. Not sensible. He slowly drew his hands away from her, resting one on his thigh and the other along the back of the couch. He had more important things to get from this conversation than the delight of her touch.

      ‘Holly, I haven’t been in a fist fight since I was sixteen and have never used my skills outside of a ring. I promise. I have never hit a woman and never would.’ He shot her a playful smile. ‘No matter how exasperating I know some of them can be.’

      But instead of laughing along with him as he had hoped, she flinched and shrank within herself. Did she have to be so sensitive?

      Leaning forward, he raised her head with a finger under her chin. ‘Come on, Holly, this is ridiculous. I need to know that you believe me. I couldn’t endure thinking that you were seriously fearful of me. Tell me you believe me.’

      Holly swallowed hard as she looked into his pleading eyes. ‘I believe you,’ she said.

      But Jacob saw the uncertainty. He also saw that this uncertainty was worrying her, as though she really wanted to believe in him. There had to be a significant reason behind this wish to believe and the idea invigorated him.

      If she saw him as merely a client with whom she was having a business dinner, or even as a ‘friend of a friend’, it really shouldn’t matter to her. But evidently it did matter. Before he could tell himself it was a bad idea, Jacob leant forward ever so slightly and she did not turn away.