Chapter 9

Isabella just sat there, on her butt, on the ground, and stared up at Jacob Barrington's unreadable face. She couldn't stop the hot color from infusing her cheeks, nor the guilt from gripping her heart for being caught trying to sneak out and leave in the dead of night.

The tense silence between them was suddenly pierced by Jacob's short, sharp whistle. His obedient dog, Jerry, immediately left her side and went straight for his master before he sat on his haunches in front of him.

Jacob bent down and patted his faithful dog on his tri-colored head. "Good boy. Good job."

"You and your dog gave me a fright!" she said as she scrambled up and clapped the dirt, grass, and dog hair off her blue sweater and blue and yellow circle skirt with an upset face. She decided that the best defense was a good offense. She should've known better. That never worked with Jacob Barrington.

"Yea. You'd been jumpier than spit on a hot skillet since this afternoon," he said, eyes down. "Feelin' uncomfortable about somethin', Bella?" He tilted his head upward, calmly peering at her upset face from under the rim of his cowboy hat before he finished patting his dog's head and then straightened. "Is that why you're so ... jumpy?"

"Nooo..." she dragged out. "I was under the misconception that no one was up and about this hour so I didn't expect anyone to be lurking in the dark."

"That's why you snuck out of the house? Thought no one was up to stop you?"

She stiffened indignantly—although he was right. "Stop me—?" She briefly choked on the words. The gall of the man! "Why would anyone presume to stop me should I decide to go out? Unless, of course, I'm a prisoner here." She arched eyebrows. "Am I a prisoner here, Mister Jacob?"

As expected, he didn't answer.

"And to correct you," she added, "I did not sneak out of the house."

"Yea, you did, and you know it. You've been chewin' bit ever since your ... nap this afternoon, so I'm not surprised you'd try and run again."

She stiffened as she glared at him. That meaningful and loaded pause wasn't lost on her even though his colorful Texasism was. "I have no idea what you mean with that "bit" phrase, but I'm telling you, I wasn't sneaking out and I was-wasn't trying to run."

"It means you've been actin' nervous."

She arched an eyebrow again, but she couldn't hold his gaze and looked down and away. "You're mistaken," she said unconvincingly.

"Don't reckon I am," he said with confidence and unreadable, lazy eyes. "Why did you ask Jerr not to tell anyone about bringin' your jeep to this side of the house?"

"I just wanted my vehicle close."

He let a deliberate pause fall. "On account of what happened this afternoon?"

She stiffened as she looked at him with big and anxious eyes. Oh dear! Did he have to bring that up? Then she dropped her eyelashes and shook her head. "I-I simply thought it was a good idea to not have to stumble into the garage and disturb you every time I needed my Rover."

"Already told you, Bella," he said, seeing how she fought to not have to look at him, "you're welcome to come by any time you like."

She looked cross at him. Right, she thought. He probably believes he has a right to all females on the Barrington Ranch like some prized bull! She was just his latest conquest.

"And I've already told you, Mister Jacob," she said with a taut face, "you'll never need to expect another visit from me. Ever." Despite her temper, his steady unreadable stare had her fidget again. Then she cleared her throat. "And-And that's why I asked Jerry to bring my vehicle to this side of the house. I just want to keep my word."

"Three different excuses, and I reckon none of them hold water."

"Reckon all you want, Mister Jacob. I wasn't making excuses. I was clarifying. One explanation doesn't necessarily discount the other."

"Hm-mm," he muttered, but that 'grunt'—even without his cynical look—was enough to tell her he didn't believe a word she said.

"It's the truth," she said, defensively.

He didn't immediately respond. He just stared at her until he had her fidgeting again. When he was satisfied that she understood he wasn't buyin' what she was sellin', he continued, "So, you gonna tell me where you were plannin' on headin' out this late hour?"

She arched an irritated eyebrow. "I'm a grown woman, Mister Jacob—"

"—Jake."

"I'm a grown woman, Jake, and since I'm not a prisoner here, I don't believe I need to tell anyone what I do during my off-hours."

He stared at her for a few moments more but she merely arched an eyebrow.

He turned his head and narrowed his deep-set eyes as he looked off into the night for a few moments. "It's gettin' real late, Bella," he said before he returned his attention on her, now with an unreadable look. "You've had a few tryin' days behind you. Whatever you're driving out for, it can wait till tomorrow. You best go back to the house and git into bed before you take ill in the night air. Can't have the cook sick, can we?"

"I'll be fine," she said with a tense jaw. "Your concern is noted but completely unnecessary, Mister—Jake. And as for the late hour? The longer you prevent me from driving out to do what must be done, the later it will become." Then she turned to now openly get into her Rover.

He stepped to her and rounded her, and she was forced to abandon her plan, and step back. She watched as he calmly got in between her and her path to the driver's seat, before he calmly laid his arm on the roof of the Rover as if they were having a friendly conversation about the weather.

"Tell me, Bella," he said as he looked at her upset face. "When you say, 'to do what must be done', it wouldn't have anythin' to do with gettin' it in your pretty little head to high tail it outta here on account of what happened this afternoon, would it?"

"Don't be ridiculous!" she protested hotly—red cheeks and all.

"I'm not," he stated, cocking his head as he looked at her anxious face.

Then she glared angrily at him. "Yes, you are." She lifted her chin a little defiantly. "I'm a grown woman in every which way," she said, then cleared her throat as he continued to stare at her. "And-And I just needed to pick up a few things that I'd forgotten the other day. Now will you please step aside so I can get going?"

He did no such thing. Instead, he moved to adjust his position, setting his long legs in a wider stance as he crossed his arms and now leaned back against the roof of her jeep. "What few things are so important that you need to drive out this late for?"

"Not that it's any of your business," she pointed out to him, "but since you appear to need an answer; personal things. Private things." She arched an eyebrow, but when he didn't respond, she added with emphasis, "Women's private things."

She knew how men hated hearing about those ... things. Then again, Jacob Barrington was not like most men. He was apparently born with a tin ear.

"What kind of women's things?"

"What do you mean what kind of women's things?" She looked aghast—something he should be doing. "Do you need me to spell it out for you?!"

He lowered his chin and studied the bright flush in her cheeks that was very visible even in the limited light. "It ain't your time of the month so I know you can't mean those "women's private things". So yea, spell it out for me."

She stiffened before her eyes shot fire.

With the moonlight at his back and its beam illuminating her face for him, he could see the flashes of anger in her pretty eyes clear as day.

"How could you know when it's my—?"

"—I didn't feel anythin'."

She frowned, confused. "What?"

"I didn't feel anythin' when I was pressin' myself high and tight between your legs this afternoon—"

"—Mister Jacob!" she cried, horrified that he was so blunt, and she promptly went beet-red in the face.

"And I've been thinkin', you might try and sneak outta here tonight because of it," he continued undisturbed. "In fact, I reckon you're about to run again."

She glared at him, delicate jaw tense, before she dropped her eyes in a rigid little face. "You assume a great deal, Mister Jacob."

"Jake."

"Must you always think the worst of everyone?"

"Not thinkin' the worst of you, Bella. Just know you better than you think I do."

She flickered up annoyed eyes and looked up at him. His attitude had changed, and his look and tone of voice were void of the lightheartedness it began with. When she realized he'd become serious, she swallowed a big lump before she looked away again.

"Okay," she said softly, lifting her nose at him, "so maybe you're right—"

"—There's no maybe about it." He slowly shook his head. "You can cut the lyin', too, cuz you already know I ain't buyin' it." He watched as her long eyelashes flickered but this time she didn't turn her eyes away.

"Now we've established I'm a liar," she said softly, an audible tremble in her voice, "can you please step aside?"

"No," he said quietly.

She looked at him a shimmering in her eyes. "You don't understand—"

"—You ain't goin' nowhere, Bella."

Then he saw something spark in her damp eyes.

"I am not your prisoner, Mister Jacob, and you have no right to try and stop me!"

But when she tried to push by him to get into her car, he shot out a hand and his arm worked like a guard rail, forcing her to stop or careen into him. She snapped up infuriated eyes, not realizing just how beautiful she looked to him in her fiery and indignant disposition.

Angry that he thought he had the right to boss her around, she threw caution to the wind and grabbed his arm to tug it down. Even her anger couldn't give her enough strength to do that since it didn't even budge no matter how hard she tried!

"Remove your arm now, Mister Jacob—!"

In the next instant, she felt his other hand take her arm and push her back against the inside of the Rover's open door. He quickly stepped to her bringing their bodies dangerously close as she snapped up furious, shimmering eyes and looked up at him from a stony little face framed with escaped tendrils of black curls.

She was cross enough to want to give him an uncensored piece of her mind, ladylike demeanor be damned! But she was also trembling. The ugly words she wanted to hurl at him stuck in her throat when her world was suddenly filled with Jacob Barrington: his body, his warmth, his scent, and the compelling power of his eyes. The fight instantly leaked out of her as she slowly shook her head with a plea in her eyes.

"I-I can't stay," she whispered with a broken tone, slowly shaking her head. "You were right all along. I should've listened to you—"

"—It's too late now," he whispered, and then he silenced further protests with a kiss.

She briefly froze, but then she melted. His lips felt so good against hers. Just his kiss rendered her completely under his control and all thoughts of Elena, Charles, and her own pride and modesty went out the window.

She didn't know what it was about Jacob Barrington, but he had the power to make her feel weak and strong at the same time. As she felt his lips twist across hers and mold them, she emitted a soft purr into his mouth, and her lips opened for more. His tongue, hot and sweet, slipped inside her mouth and boldly took what she offered as his hands slipped down her body, gently took her hips, and pressed her against his groin. She felt an almost immediate explosion of fire erupt inside her when she felt the bold outline of his erection.

Then he quietly broke the kiss, and she blinked hazy eyes open.

He didn't say a word as he stared into her large hazy eyes. He could see that heart-wrenching sadness behind the fire. He knew she was afraid of how she was beginning to feel about him but he knew she wanted him. He also knew she wanted to run again. He'd seen it earlier in her face when he tried to approach her before she fled inside and locked herself away.

He quietly raised fingers before he tenderly ran knuckles along her cheek. He watched as her eyelashes flickered for a few moments by his touch, and then how they dropped as she stared at his lips with a longing he was certain she didn't even know she was showing. The sexual tension between them was unmistakable and powerful. He recognized that right off bat, even from the start, but he was also aware that his Bella had no idea what it was she was feeling, and he didn't intend to let her run off before she did.

As he held her gaze captive with his, his fingers slipped along her delicate jaw before he gently took her chin between a curled finger and his thumb. She no longer cringed from his touch, but trembled as her eyes slowly closed, surrendering to the moment. To her desire. When he tenderly raised her chin, her lips parted for him as her fingers slowly unfolded and her keys slipped from them, not hearing them drop to the ground by their feet...

"Go inside, Bella," she heard him whisper from afar.

She slowly blinked open her eyes and looked confused up at his stark face. Then she felt color shoot into her face when she was realized what she was doing, and with a soft gasp, stepped back from him as she stared at his unreadable face. Then she looked away and quickly walked away, to the back of the house without a look back.

The moment she was certain he couldn't see her, she threw herself into a sprint—a very fast sprint! She rushed up the verandah and to the laundry room door, hoping and praying it wasn't locked. Then again, it never was since she was the only one who locked it, and she hadn't locked it that night. Entering the laundry room, and with only a nightlight illuminating her way to the door that led to the short hallway and the door to her room's hallway, she quickly headed in that direction.

She was trembling from head to toe, thinking what a fool she was! To delude herself into thinking and desiring a man like Jacob Barrington was a fool's errand. What would he want with a "genteel" woman like herself when, as Elena had said, he had his pick of plenty of the more adventurous women around? She wasn't the one-night stand type of woman, yet ... she was sending him all the wrong signals.

"You're such a fool, Isabella," she thought sadly as she entered her dark room and flipped the switch. Nightstand lamps lit the room in a soft glow as she closed the door behind her, and she was about to head for her bed to take the good-bye letter and tear it up when she stopped and looked befuddled, finding nothing there. Frowning teary eyes, she raised her head and looked around but froze when she spotted Jacob rising out of the reading chair. He'd come in through the window ... and had brought her luggage with him.