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genuinely interested in her answers. Although his somber watchfulness was his trademark characteristic, he laughed often enough. Every time he did, her heart squeezed a little. There was an elusive quality to him, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on, something beyond his obvious handsomeness and his aura of quiet yet undeniable power and confidence.
    She couldn’t help but recall her unrealistic fantasy about finding a guy who was not only confident, smart, and powerful, but who actually listened to her once in a while. Jacob was a focused listener. He couldn’t possibly be very interested in the boring things she told him about her life as a reporter at
the
Chronicle
or her favorite places in San Francisco or Washington, DC, but he seemed to pay attention to every detail. No, to
absorb
it. It was probably a short-lived act to get her into bed.
    But if it was an illusion, it was a nice one, she acknowledged. As the sun began to set over the mountains, Harper found herself wanting to believe in it very much. She realized she’d hardly dwelled on her parents’ loss or experienced that swallowing emptiness all night.
    “What’s that?” Jacob asked.
    For a moment, she didn’t recall what had inspired his question. He held up a bottle of wine in a silent query and she nodded once eagerly. For a moment, she didn’t answer and just watched as he tipped the bottle and golden liquid trickled into her glass. The moment struck her as sensual somehow . . . rich with possibilities. He set down the bottle and lifted his brows slightly, waiting for her reply. She recalled her former statement.
    “Oh, I was just thinking it must be incredible. To be you,” she said, smiling and waving at the fantastic scenery and the lovely table that had been set exclusively for them with lavish detail. “Does it all seem passé to you at this point? The mansions, the yachts, being constantly surrounded by beauty and luxury?” she wondered. She’d asked him earlier if he lived in Tahoe full-time, and he’d admitted he also had homes in the Sea Cliff area of San Francisco as well as in Napa Valley, where he also owned Lattice Vineyards.
    He took a moment to reply, lifting his wineglass and taking a sip. “I’d like to be able to tell you that it never becomes background noise. I’d like to be able to say that the ability to appreciate the finer things and the rare opportunities directly relates to just how low and dirty of a place you had to crawl from to get there.”
    “But you can’t?” she asked softly.
    “Sometimes, I forget. Sometimes, it’s easier just to imagine that this world is the one I was destined for, even though deep down, I know it’s a lie I tell myself. Because the truth is, every day, every hour, I have to scramble to keep it. Sometimes, I wish I didn’t have to work so hard and worry so much. Sometimes, I resent all this,” he mused, waving back at the yacht. “Because I hate that tomorrow I’ll have to be smarter and better and maybe even more ruthless in order to keep it. And yet . . . I
want
to keep it,” he said, meeting her stare dead on. “I want
more
.”
    His eyes had taken on a simmering quality. Harper realized she was holding her breath.
    “Why?” she whispered.
    He shrugged. “The more you have, the safer you are from losing it all.” He met her gaze and smiled slightly. “Pretty pitiful, isn’t it?”
    “I wouldn’t say that,” she said thoughtfully. “I can see how that mind-set would arise. And it’s not just the
things
you would worry about losing. It’s all the work you’ve done, too, and all that it meant to you. The struggles. The failures and the victories. All the effort you’ve put into creating what you’ve become. You wouldn’t want it all to be for nothing.”
    For a moment, a full silence prevailed as they regarded each other.
    “You’re wondering if I have the ability to appreciate you, aren’t you? If I’ll take you for granted as much as I