JONAS woke with his heart pounding and sweat beading on his body, the echo of his nightmare still ringing in his ears. He dragged in air and turned his head to look at Hannah. She was lying facedown beside him. Soft morning sunlight spilled through the window, bathing her in celestial light, so that her skin seemed luminous. The contour of her bottom was heart-stopping, nearly driving the nightmare from his head. He slid his hand possessively down her long back, noting he was shaking as he traced the long, beautiful line of her. He touched the dimples on either side of her spine, and then ran his hand over the enticing curve joining her back to bottom.
She looked tired, sprawled out, one arm flung wide, hair spilling everywhere. Tired—and vulnerable. He’d made love to her over and over, pushing her beyond her comfort zone more than once, but she’d gone with him and they’d exploded together often, like rockets going off on the Fourth of July. He’d never experienced sex the way it was with her and he could only conclude that loving a woman wholly, with every breath in a man’s body, took mere sex into a whole different realm. He didn’t want to wake her just because he was so needy with nightmares crowding close, but he considered it.
His body was already reacting to the sight and scent of her.
He tried to recall the dream that had awoken him. He’d been back in the alley, watching the Russian mobsters, hiding like a coward in the shadows while one of them had put a bullet in an undercover agent’s head. Terry, the driver, had run to him, begging for help, and he’d calmly continued to film as Karl Tarasov walked up behind him and shot him.
And then Hannah was there, smiling at Tarasov, and he leaned down to kiss her, only a knife was clutched in his hand. He lifted it and the world turned red.
Jonas rolled over with a small groan, taking the sheets with him, flinging one arm over his eyes, trying to stop his mind from replaying the attack on her over and over. Beside him, Hannah stirred. She turned slightly toward him, a leisurely, slow movement of her body, drawing his immediate attention. Her lips were full and soft, sending an electrical charge through his body when she leaned close and kissed his navel. He felt the slide of her new, short curls over his thickened cock. Every nerve ending leapt to life. The sweep of her soft breasts contracted his muscles and brought him to full alert.
What could be more beautiful than Hannah sliding over his body, naked and willing, with the smile of a temptress and the promise of heaven in her eyes?
‘You look like a fairy tale lying in my bed. Goldilocks with her hair spread across my pillow.’
She lifted her head just enough to flash another smile at him—teasing—mischievous.
‘You had fantasies about Goldilocks?’
Now he could see the curve of one breast, full and tempting, adding to the allure of her curved bottom. ‘Hell yes I did. A very naughty woman with golden curls just waiting naked in my bed, knowing she deserves punishment and I’m the one going to give it to her.’ He caught her hair in his fist and lifted the mass from her neck so he could lean in and taste her skin. Deliberately he scraped his teeth down to her shoulder, tongue swirling as he found every intriguing dip.
‘So you’re a bad bear.’
‘When I have to be.’ His hands slid down her back and cupped her buttocks, kneading the firm muscles and pressing her closer to him. ‘Are you going to give me my fantasy just like you did the last one?’
She leaned closer to him, brushing the corner of his mouth with hers, trailing kisses along his jaw to his neck. He closed his eyes, feeling the small velvet rasp, the stinging nip of playful teeth, and then her lips were moving over his shoulder. The perfect way to start a morning. ‘I’ll give you any fantasy you want, Jonas.’ She rubbed her face against him like a purring cat. ‘As long as you give me mine.’
He opened his eyes and looked at her, feeling lazy and aroused, a slow burn moving through his body, as if he had all the time in the world to enjoy her. Hannah. His. He slid his hand down her spine to her lower back, making lazy circles. ‘You have fantasies about me?’
She gave him a wicked smirk, lowered her mouth to his shoulder and bit him gently. ‘I said I have fantasies, I didn’t say about you.’
He narrowed his eyes at her, his hand moving over the rounded curve of her bottom in warning. ‘I’m a jealous man, Hannah. Your fantasies need to be about me.’
She laughed softly, the sound sliding through his body, fanning the slow burn into something altogether different. She sounded happy and relaxed, and when she looked at him, he saw love in her eyes. His heart stumbled. It was damned scary how she could turn him inside out with just one look. He would never understand how he managed to get so lucky, he sure as hell didn’t deserve her, but he wasn’t ever going to be stupid enough to lose her.
When she moved, her hair slid in a caress over her skin, hiding her generous breasts from him one moment. The next—he’d catch a glimpse of the lush curve and tight bud of a nipple. She was inches from his mouth—tempting candy—so sweet.
Looking at her hurt. Taking her over and over through the night hadn’t changed that at all.
He would think he was fully sated, his body completely satisfied, and then she’d move, with her sexy, flowing grace, brush her skin against his, or do that little pouty thing with her mouth and he’d be hard as a rock again. Worse, deep down, in some hidden core where no one else could see or ever know, he turned to mush—melted—and knew with a certainty that he was lost forever—caught in her spell.
‘I love you, Hannah.’ His throat hurt he felt so raw with love.
In answer, she shifted, an erotic flow of muscle beneath skin, sliding over his body, her head on his chest, her breasts soft and full along his belly, her long, beautiful legs nudging his apart so she could settle comfortably into him. His body temperature spiked as she began a leisurely slide down him, pressing little kisses over his chest and belly.
Her tongue felt like velvet as she gave small little flicks along his ribs.
His heart jumped and began to race. Hannah surprised him with her playful nips and her gliding tongue. Blood surged hotly in his veins.
‘I love this, knowing I can touch you like this.’
Her breath whispered over his skin, hot, erotic, making his body tighten, harden, nearly burst with the anticipation. She left a sensual trail of dampness along his thigh as she continued to move lower still, sliding her soft wet mound deliberately over his leg. He was going to lose his mind before she was through, but he’d make the sacrifice.
There was nothing hurried or frenzied about her exploration. Her hands were slow, shaping his muscles, tracing over his ribs. She teased and flicked his flat nipples, and all the while, her mouth did that slow, lazy burn down his body. Although he had made love to her most of the night, it felt like the first time all over again—the breathless expectation, the raging assault on his senses, the fire burning through his groin until he wanted to scream with the pleasure-pain of it.
Hannah had no idea what she was doing, but it was fun. Jonas’s body was sprawled out, completely open to her—her private playground—and she wanted to play. She wanted to know every intimate detail about him. He knew her body, knew exactly how to make her shatter and come apart for him, she wanted the same knowledge of him. Jonas made her feel confident in herself, in her body, in her sexuality.
She pressed kisses down his belly, enjoying the feel of his muscles bunching beneath her lips. The texture of his skin was amazing, hot and firm and soft yet unyielding. His body was taut, hips restless, but for her, he tried to be still and let her do as she wanted. It wasn’t easy for him. His body trembled and she knew he was naturally dominant, but he twisted his fists in the sheets and held himself still for her. When he did lift a hand to slide it over the curve of her back, she lifted her head in warning.
‘Keep your hands on the mattress, Jonas.’
He grinned at her, but his eyes were hot. ‘My little dominatrix, sexy as hell.’
‘It’s my turn. You spent all night exploring my body, and I want to have my chance with yours. It’s only fair.’ She slipped a little lower still and blew warm air over the broad, flared head of his straining erection. ‘You’re a little intimidating.’
He tried not to come off the mattress. ‘But I make you feel so good.’
‘True.’ She blew more air and watched his body jerk, and his hips buck toward her waiting mouth. Eyes locked with his, she experimentally flicked her tongue out to taste him.
‘Son of a bitch, Hannah.’ The words broke from him, a curse—a prayer. His voice was harsh, broken.
‘Well, I’ve never done this. I might need a little instruction.’
When she spoke, her lips brushed the sensitive head and her tongue glided over him in hot rasping strokes, punctuating each word.
He closed his eyes briefly, but couldn’t stop looking at the erotic sight she made. ‘Wrap your hand tight around the base, baby.’ His breath hissed out of his lungs as she complied. Her hand was small, delicate even, circling as close to the base as possible.
‘Tighter, honey. Don’t be afraid. When I’m inside you, you’re so damn tight you’re strangling me.’ He groaned in sudden pleasure. ‘That’s it, that’s what I need.’
She smiled at him and lowered her head again, her tongue gliding over him, curling under the broad head to stroke fire along his most sensitive spot. She’d never felt more powerful than at that moment. He looked as if she could destroy him, his blue eyes so dark they were almost black, his breathing harsh and his pulsing flesh so hard and thick it felt like velvet over steel.
Locking her gaze with his, she parted her lips and, with slow deliberation, encased the hot, engorged head of his cock in the moist heat of her mouth. His entire body jerked and his hands flew up to catch her hair in two tight fists. He let out a strangled gasp, said something rough and low that made her body throb and weep with excitement.
She wanted to devour him the way he had her, take him apart, piece by piece, until he was writhing in ecstasy. He had already taught her what a lover could do with a masterful mouth and she wanted to learn everything. More than anything, she wanted to bring him the kind of pleasure he’d given her. A gift—a loving. The benefit was the thrill, the heat in his eyes, the total joy of giving that brought her own body to a fever pitch.
Jonas groaned, working to keep control, to keep his thrusts shallow and hold back when he wanted to slide down her throat. She was just too damned sexy, looking both shy and sensuous rolled into one. She wanted to bring him pleasure—wanted to know his body. It showed in her eyes, in her touch, in her sinful, wicked mouth as she wrecked him slowly and with purposeful intent. ‘Right there, baby, with your tongue.’
She was good at following instructions—too good. He would whisper hoarsely—sometime crudely—and she would find the exact spot, the right suction, her tongue so devilish he was sure she would destroy him with pure mind-numbing pleasure. She watched him, looking for signals from him, to see what tightened his body, made his temperature soar and the muscles contract. When she sucked hard, her mouth a silken trap of molten heat, she turned him into a lust-filled maniac, guttural growls rumbling from his throat, and when she flattened her tongue and slid it under the flared sensitive tip, rubbing hard, hitting the spot that sent him into orbit, he couldn’t stop the rough cry torn from his throat or the automatic thrust of his hips to deepen his stroke.
She nearly pulled away, but he held her with both hands.
‘That’s it, Hannah. Deeper, take me a little deeper, relax your throat for me, baby.’
Another hoarse cry escaped as she obeyed him, her throat closing around him, squeezing hot, living flesh to the exploding point.
The savage intensity burning in his eyes would have been encouragement enough, but her own body had gone into meltdown. Pleasing him was an aphrodisiac in itself. She could feel fire racing through her bloodstream and flames over her skin, her body burning with incredible need. Deep inside, her body was already melting, rippling and fiercely needy.
She wanted more from him, all of him. She kept her eyes locked with his and deliberately drew him nearly out of her mouth, so that he shuddered, his chest rising and falling, his eyes a glittering blue. He trembled. His hands tightened in her hair, locking on her head as if he needed an anchor. Then she took him deep, nearly swallowing him, her mouth deliberately tight and so hot she knew she was melting him. He was pulsing now, his flesh a steel rod. Harsh lines etched into his face as he gasped for air and struggled for control.
Jonas threw his head back and fought to keep from ravaging her soft, hot mouth. No woman had ever driven him to the very edge as Hannah was doing, untutored, inexperienced, but so willing to please him. The joy on her face, the desire, the sheer sensual image ripped through him, a torrent of need rushing through with a destructive force. ‘Harder, baby, give me more.’
He could feel his body swell. And he could feel his hands in her hair, controlling her head, her movements taking over when he wanted the control to be all hers. It was just so good, so perfect. A moment in time he would never forget.
He was burning alive, so far gone, he was thrusting helplessly into her mouth, quick and hard and deeper than he should have been going. She choked. Coughed. Brought him to his senses. His hands stilled her head and he forced his body to quit bucking. ‘I’m sorry, Hannah, you’re making me crazy and I’m out of control.’
He closed his eyes when her tongue curled around him.
‘I want you crazy and out of control.’
He shook his head. ‘We’ll save the rest for another day.’
Because if they didn’t, Hannah was going to learn about love mixed with lust in one catastrophic explosion. ‘Come up here. Straddle me, honey. I can already feel how ready you are for me, hot and wet and so damned perfect. Come here.’
She started to move, sliding up his body, her breasts leaving twin streaks of fire where her nipples dragged over him. For the first time she hesitated. He saw her gaze shift from him to her surroundings. The glazed excitement glittering in her eyes faded, and one hand went up to her face and dropped to her breasts.
It was morning. She’d been so wrapped up in him she hadn’t really noticed the daylight.
Satisfaction curved his mouth and settled in his stomach. He could make her forget to hide herself with his hands and mouth and body.
Jonas reached down and framed her face with his hands. ‘I have to see you, just for a moment. I love your breasts, so soft, baby, so perfect for me. I spent half the night waking you up by sucking on them.’ He rubbed at a strawberry mark he’d put on one creamy mound. ‘That’s mine. You’re mine. And I love you more than life.’
‘But the scars, Jonas.’ It was hard to think of anything but the pulsing desire hot between her legs where she was achingly empty and desperate to be filled. And his gaze was burning over her, so possessive, that she nearly climaxed from the look on his face.
‘Did you hear me, Hannah? I have to see you. Sit up for me, straddle me. Let me have you.’ He put just the edge of command in his voice, rough with need, dominating with desire.
She moistened her lips, took a breath and then slowly complied. Hannah straddled him, shaking her hair back so it was wild, framing her face in shimmering spirals of gold and platinum, as she sat up with languid grace. She looked a sultry temptress with her perfect breasts and her glowing skin.
There was a moment of silence followed by the sound of the harsh rasp of his breath. She covered her breasts with her hands, an automatic gesture, but he captured her wrists and pulled them down, holding her there so he could look his fill. ‘Stay like that for me, honey. I just need to… I just need.’
Releasing her, Jonas slid his palms up her flat stomach, traced her ribs and came up under her breasts, cupping the soft offerings in his hands. His thumbs slid across her nipples and he felt her answering shiver, the rush of heat and moisture as she shifted slightly. He loved watching her face as he leaned forward. The nerves. The arousal. The anticipation.
She was so responsive to him. Her nipples tightened before he even got there and he felt the wash of hot liquid on his belly where she straddled him. His cock rested against her soft buttocks, pressing eagerly, wanting to drive home.
He drew one breast in his mouth and caught the other nipple in his fingers, tugging and flicking while he suckled her. She gave a little gasping cry, her body trembling as she pushed closer to him. He took his time, not giving in to the urgent demands of either of their bodies, forcing her to climb higher, licking and sucking, teeth scraping and tongue flicking, tormenting her until she was writhing, her body pulsing sensually. Her stomach muscles bunched into knots. The junction at her legs grew hotter than anything he’d experienced, wet and ready for him. And she wasn’t thinking about anything but Jonas—he was certain of that.
He bit down gently, forcing her once more out of her comfort zone and into another realm, the little bites causing flares of heat and arrows of darting pleasure snaking hungrily through her body. Her thighs tightened around him and her hips began a helpless bucking.
He caught her around the waist and lifted her. ‘Slow this time, Hannah. Slide down slow and ride me.’ He refused to let her impale herself hard and fast as she wanted to—drawing out the pleasure, forcing her to go slow.
‘Jonas. Please.’
The soft pleading filled his already full cock with pounding hot blood. He felt every silken muscle as he pushed with torturous slowness into her fiery folds. She was so tight she had him gasping, the shock waves riding his body, ripping through him, demanding release, but he held her hips, lifting her with exquisite care and moving in her with an almost languid pace until she was sobbing his name, begging him for more.
‘Tell me what you want, baby,’ he whispered. ‘You like this, I know you do. You want something else?’
Oh, God. She needed. Needed him wild. Slamming into her, pounding into her until he drove her up and over the edge. She needed release and each slow stroke sent whips of lightning streaking through her body, every nerve ending singed and scorched and desperate for more. ‘Please, Jonas, I can’t take any more. I can’t.’ Because she might go up in flames before she had a chance to actually shatter. Or she’d shatter before she went up in flames. Either way, she had to have release.
Without warning, he rolled them over, sliding her under him, easily, smoothly, dragging her legs over his shoulders, hands on her hips to hold her still. The first thrust was a streak of sheer fire, his cock steel hard, ramming through her swollen, sensitive folds, driving deep, so deep she was afraid he would land in her womb. She heard herself scream, a ragged gasping cry, but he was already withdrawing and slamming home again.
There was no way to control the pleasure, she felt insane with it, giving herself up to it as he pumped into her body with hard, desperate strokes. He pushed her knees back, pulling her hips closer under him, giving him a better angle to go even deeper, driving over knots of nerves screaming with fiery sensations. She writhed under him, her hips bucking, her head thrashing, her muscles tightening around him, gripping him hard.
He whispered against her neck, his mouth skimming down her soft skin, his voice a rough rasp that washed more heat over her. The tension in her built and built, and still he drove into her, taking her on an endless flight. She thrashed, nails biting deep into his shoulder, her small cries turning frantic. He was relentless, driving her up but never over, bringing her to the edge until she was clawing at him, pleading again.
Jonas could barely hold on with her sheath pulsing around him, so tight and so slick, he felt he was moving in a fiery bed of silk. She was strangling him, so hot he was melting, but he wouldn’t stop, wouldn’t take her over until she knew—until she was certain.
‘Who do you…’ He gasped. Clenched his teeth as her body clamped down on his.
‘Belong to? Say it, Hannah. Tell me you’re mine.’
‘Jonas.’ His name came out a wail. She tried to lift her hips to meet his, but his hands held her tightly, keeping her pinned while his body tortured hers with pleasure. ‘You.
You idiot. There’s never been anyone else.’ Her hand curled around his neck. ‘Oh, please, Jonas, I don’t think I’m going to survive.’
The sheer lust in her voice, the pleading cries, drove him so far past control he couldn’t have held back if he wanted to. He shifted subtly, the movement rocking her, as his cock filled her, burying deep, swelling, the friction increasing to the point that she simply fragmented, her body coming apart under him. His own body jerked hard, the pleasure bordering on pain as he washed her in his release. Still her muscles wouldn’t let go, wouldn’t stop clasping him, wringing the last drop from him.
He collapsed over her, burying his face in her neck, his hands finding hers and holding them to the mattress on either side of her head.
‘I love you, Hannah. I’m not going to be able to come home at night without having you in my bed.’ He rubbed his face over her breasts, nuzzled a nipple and drew it into his mouth, feeling her body spasm around his. He licked, watching her face, watching the pleasure wash over her. ‘I want this. I want you. It’s been so damn long, baby, empty nights without you, long years waiting to have you. I don’t want to wait any longer.’
It was difficult to think clearly when his body was so deep in hers and his mouth was on her breast, sending streaks of fire from her nipples to her groin. She would give him anything, do anything. He had to know that. Why didn’t he know that?
‘I want to be with you, too, Jonas. Everything is mixed up right now, but…’
‘There isn’t going to be a ‘but,’ Hannah.’ Jonas sucked at the tender mound at the curve, just above her nipple.
‘What are you doing?’ She tried to lift her head to see, but he was holding her down and her body was too relaxed to move. More than anything she didn’t want to dislodge him, loving the feel of him buried inside her. She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. ‘You’d better not be putting another mark on me.’
He kissed her lips, spearing his tongue into her mouth. ‘I hate to be the one to tell you, baby, but you have marks all over you. My fingerprints and my mouth are on the inside of your thighs as well as on your breasts, and your belly.’ He kissed her again. ‘Mine.’
‘You’re so possessive.’ She kissed him back. Bit his lower lip. ‘I left a few marks of my own, to show who you belong to.’
He flashed a small grin and rolled off her onto his back, retaining possession of her hand.
He brought it to his mouth and nibbled at her fingertips. ‘I don’t want a big fancy wedding like your sisters are planning. I want to do it fast, right away, without the newspapers and magazines hanging around.’
She turned her head to look at him, her heart pounding hard. ‘You think I’m going to marry you?’
‘Damn straight you are. I’m not some little play toy, Hannah.’
She burst out laughing at his arrogant tone. ‘And here I thought I was going to have so much fun.’ She leaned over and nipped his earlobe. ‘Most men ask.’
‘You’d just say no. You already did say no.’
‘I did not. I said later; that’s not the same thing.’ She rolled onto her side and pushed her fingers through his hair. ‘When I came here to your house and played dress-up, your mother and I talked about weddings. Little girls love weddings and I was no exception.
She said, if you ever got married, she’d have it here, at this house, and everyone would come dressed like the 1920s. She’d have a speakeasy dance hall for the reception in your ballroom. She showed me the flapper clothes and then we got dressed up and had tea. We should do that.’
His heart nearly stopped. ‘Have the wedding here?’
‘Wouldn’t you like that? Dress like she wanted and have the ceremony here? It would be such fun. Joley would love it.’
‘I would, too, but would you?’ His eyes searched hers.
She smiled. ‘Absolutely. I think it sounds perfect.’ She grinned at him. ‘If we’re going to get married, I mean.’
He kissed her nose. ‘Oh, we’re getting married, baby. You don’t want ten kids running around without my ring on your finger. Your father would make you a widow before you ever became a wife.’
She laughed and rolled over, wincing. ‘Wow! I guess I am sore. I must be out of shape.’
‘I don’t know, Hannah, you outlasted me. Come on. I’m going to run you a bath.’ He jumped up, uncaring that he was naked, went into the connecting bathroom and turned on the faucet. He stuck his head out the door when she didn’t move. ‘You coming?’
‘No. I can’t walk. I’m going to stay right here all day.’ She pulled the sheet over her.
‘No, baby, you need to soak in a tub, you really won’t be able to walk. As it is, you’re going to be sore. I don’t have any bath salts, or crystals or whatever it is you girls all use, but I lit some of the candles Sarah gave me last Christmas. Don’t tell her I said this, but they’re soothing.’
She laughed. ‘You’re so funny, Jonas, not wanting to admit candles and crystals have healing powers.’ She rolled onto her side and propped her head in one hand, elbow on the mattress, studying him. He was completely at ease in his nudity.
‘I admit it. It’s just that you all think I need those things for protection.’ He glanced into the bathroom to check the water level in the tub.
‘You do need them, silly. In our own way, we try to shield you the way you do us. You matter to all of us…’
He swung around. ‘You’re mine, Hannah. It’s no longer a family thing.’ There was finality in his voice.
Hannah frowned. He’d always enjoyed the relationship he had with the Drake sisters. He knew he was family to them. He loved them. She couldn’t imagine why what she’d said would irritate him. ‘What’s this sudden driving need to establish dominance, Jonas?
What’s wrong?’
He sighed. ‘Come here.’ He crooked his little finger at her.
Hannah rose, wrapping herself in the sheet, trying not to be annoyed that he always made everything sound like an order. ‘I’m here. Tell me what’s wrong.’
‘Lose the sheet first.’
Just like that, as tired and as sore as she was, her body responded. Her breasts tightened, her womb clenched and a frisson of excitement skittered down her spine. ‘I want you, Jonas, I swear I do, but I think if you make love to me again, you’ll kill me.’
A reluctant grin curved his mouth. ‘It would be a nice way to go, locked to you forever.
Inside of you. Deep. Right where I belong.’ He tugged at the sheet.
Hannah let it drop to the floor.
‘I like looking at you. Don’t hide from me.’ He caught her chin and leaned down to kiss her. ‘Not me. Not ever.’
‘Jonas…’
He simply picked her up, carried her to the bath and set her in the steamy water.
‘I can’t go home with that skirt and blouse and nothing else.’ The water felt so good. She could just stay there all day, forget the bed. She rested her head against the lip of the tub.
‘I’ll find you an old pair of my jeans and a shirt. I have to have something around here that will fit you.’
‘You didn’t tell me what’s bothering you.’
He stood watching her, his expression grim. ‘You didn’t say you loved me, Hannah. I know you want me, but you didn’t say you loved me.’
‘I said it a million ways. Do you think I’d let another man touch me the way you did? Or put his mouth on me? His tongue in me? Jonas, don’t be an idiot. If you know me at all, you’d never doubt for one moment that I love you with everything in me. And I have told you before. On the beach I told you.’
‘That isn’t the same as when we’re making love. I told you a dozen times last night. You never said it.’
‘I thought I was saying it, over and over.’ She hid a smile. Jonas was so big and bad, but underneath it, he was as vulnerable as she was. ‘I love you, Jonas Harrington. And I trust you not to forget it.’
He grinned at her, that same cocky, satisfied grin he often wore, the one that always made her heart melt. ‘Have your bath, baby. I’ll be back with some clothes for you in a sec.’
Jonas rarely threw anything away and he rummaged through his drawers in the hopes of finding clothes small enough for her. Tucked away in a box in his closet, he found a pair of jeans from years earlier. He thumbed through the shirts and found his favorite old plaid. As he started out of the room, he glanced at the dresser. The pictures he kept there were all facedown. He’d bumped it when he’d gotten a little wild with Hannah. Smiling, he lifted the middle one and set it upright.
It was one of his favorites of Hannah, with the sun shining on her hair and a dreamy expression on her face. He kissed his fingertips and brushed it across the glass just as the phone rang.
‘I’m tossing the clothes in, Hannah.’
‘Don’t throw them in the water!’ Hannah stood up to catch the jeans and shirt as they sailed into the bathroom.
The shirt was far too big, but it covered everything, and the jeans were old and faded and snug on her. As she pulled them up over her hips, she saw Jonas on the phone. He went suddenly still, the expression on his face harsh as he reached out and snagged his jeans, putting them on one-handed.
Something was wrong. Really wrong. ‘What is it?’ Hannah asked, anxiety creeping into her voice as she observed his murderous expression and the uneasy glances he sent her way. ‘Are my sisters all right?’ But she would know if one of them was in trouble. She always knew.
Jonas put down the phone, his hand going to the nape of her neck. ‘Early this morning, when Jackson was heading into the office, someone tried to run him off the road. He was in my car and still using my jacket. I have his.’
‘Oh no. Was he hurt?’
‘The car is totaled and he’s got a few scrapes and bruises, but he’s alive.’ He grabbed a shirt and shrugged into it. ‘Jackson’s been with me through more nasty battles with the bullets flying and neither of us thinking we were going to get out than I care to remember. I don’t like that he took another hit for me.’ He paced across the floor, too restless to stay still when he was puzzling it all out.
‘This doesn’t make sense. They had to have thought it was me driving the car, but clearly you weren’t in the car. Why would they make me a target?’
Hannah slid down the wall to the floor, crossed her arms over her breasts and drew up her knees, making herself smaller, huddling in the corner. This was her fault. Someone had tried to kill Jonas and poor Jackson had gotten in the way. Anything that happened to him had been because of her. Why? She didn’t understand what she could have done to make someone hate her so much. Her sisters were in danger, and so were Jackson and Jonas.
She closed her eyes on the tears burning so close.
Jonas glanced at her white, pale face and instantly knelt down beside her. ‘It’s okay, baby. It’s going to be okay. Jackson is all right.’
She shook her head, rocking back and forth. ‘Where can I go that I won’t take the chance that someone I love is going to be hurt?’ She looked up at him with sorrow and shock in her eyes. ‘Who could possibly hate me so much they not only want to destroy me, but everyone I love? What could I have done to cause this?’
Jonas had seen victims of crimes, hundreds of them. He’d reassured them, soothed them, broken bad news and good news, but it had never been personal. Her emotion choked him, strangled him, made him feel helpless and racked with fury that someone could put that look on her face. ‘Nothing, Hannah. You didn’t do anything at all. People who choose this kind of madness are ill. A slight can be imagined, fantasized. It isn’t really about you. It’s about them and their self-absorbed hatred, an all-consuming destructive emotion. It isn’t someone you know. No one who knows you could ever do this to you.’
‘I don’t know what to do.’
‘I do, sweetheart. This is what I do. I’m taking you back to your house…’
She shook her head. ‘I don’t want them going after my sisters.’
Jonas framed her face with his large hands. ‘Baby, you’re not thinking clearly. Your house eats people for snacks. Your trees throw them into the ocean. Your balcony comes alive and your windows repair themselves. You and your sisters are damned safe in that house, which, by the way, I’m never going to look at in the same way again.’
She almost managed a smile as she allowed him to pull her up. ‘All right. I’ll go home with them, but you’d better stay in the house as well. I mean it, Jonas. Whoever is doing this is obviously trying to kill you now.’
He looked around, found their shoes in the living room and handed her sandals to her.
She flushed, seeing her skirt, blouse and coat right at the entrance to the doorway.
‘We didn’t get far, did we?’
He grinned at her. ‘Best night of my life, Hannah. Thank you.’ He leaned over, kissed her and pulled on his shoes. ‘Let’s get out of here. Let me go first, just in case. Get right into the truck.’
She nodded and waited for him to take the lead. He stopped long enough to lock the door behind him, and hurried to the truck, his gaze quartering the area around them, looking for anything suspicious.
Hannah settled in the truck, drew her seatbelt across her and drummed her fingers on the seat in apprehension while he shoved the key into the ignition.
Jonas reached for her hand, his fingers running over hers in a little caress before he picked up her hand and brought it to the warmth of his mouth. ‘It’s going to be all right, baby. It won’t be much longer before we figure this out.’ He nibbled on the tips of her fingers and turned the key.
The engine whined, but refused to turn over. Jonas swore under his breath.
‘Maybe we should talk to Abbey. She hates using her abilities, but she can determine truth,’ Hannah said hesitantly.
‘I don’t think we have anyone she can question yet.’ There was something worrying at the back of his mind, something just out of reach, if he’d just remember it. He turned the key again and the motor made the same noise, refusing to start.
Jonas snapped his teeth together and grabbed the key, impatient, but suddenly he went still. His alarms were screaming at him, his stomach burning with knots, he just had been too absorbed in Hannah to focus on it. Jackson’s track was always—always—in perfect running condition.
Hannah frowned, the sudden stillness in him sending her natural alarms shrieking. ‘What is it, Jonas?’
He reached down and unsnapped Hannah’s seatbelt. ‘Get out of the track. Get out now, Hannah. Hurry, damn it.’
She reacted to the urgency in his voice, the fear. She tried to push open the door, remembered it was locked and reached for the handle.
‘Run for the trees, away from the house. Run fast, baby, I’ll be right behind you.’
Hannah slid out. ‘Tell me.’
‘There’s a bomb in the track.’ His voice was calm, but his eyes were savage. ‘Get the hell out of here, Hannah—now.’
