The Bravo Billionaire Part 15

Now. You and I will have a nice, long talk after we get there."

Emma folded her arms under her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. "I gave Palmer a note to give to you."

"So?"

"Did you get that note?"

"Yes, I got that note."

"Did you read that note?"

"Yes, Emma, I did."

"Well. Then you know very well that I'm not leavin' this house. I am the one who gets to make the choice about where we live. And I have decided that we will live here."

He kept that burning gaze right on her and he started walking toward her.

"Wait," she said. "Stop. Just you stop right there." He kept on coming. She told herself to stand firm, but her legs seemed to move of their own accord.

She gave ground backing toward the kitchen, under the arch, across her red-tiled floor. He kept pace with her. It worked out fine until she ran out of floor and into her refrigerator, which was thick with magnets in various animal shapes. She b.u.mped a couple of them. They clattered to the floor.

She glanced down at the magnets a chicken and a Scottie dog then back up at him. "Jonas..."

Very carefully, sliding magnets out of his way to do it, he laid one big hand on either side of her head.

She knew what to do, and she did it fast, too, bending her knees, bolting under his restraining arm.

But he was faster. He blocked her escape by lowering that arm and extending his opposite knee until it met the refrigerator. More magnets fell.

With great dignity, Emma straightened her legs again. "This is what happens when you're big and strong and rich, huh? You think it's your G.o.d-given right to push people around."

"I am just trying to get your attention."

"Well, guess what? You got it."

"Good."

"What happens now?"

"Now, you listen."

"Okay, fine. I am listenin'."

"Are you sure?"

She decided that question didn't deserve an answer. She waited, thinking that he was way too close, too big, too warm, too ... everything. She wished he would back off.

And at the same time, she wished he would press himself against her, just grind himself right into her, let the magnets fall where they may.

Oh, Deirdre was right. For a self-starting independent take-charge woman, she sure did a good impression of a s.e.x toy.

Finally, he spoke. "We cannot live here. It is impossible." He said each word slowly and softly, right into her face.

She dredged up a scoffing sound. "Exaggerate a little, why don't you, Jonas? Of course, we can live here. There is a kitchen, three bedrooms, two bathrooms. A roof over our heads. Even a livin' room with a workin' fireplace and a twenty-seven-inch TV. It may not be Bel Air, but we can live here, I promise you that."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why the h.e.l.l are you doing this?"

"Because your house is too darn big and it's too easy for you to hide when you're there."

That seemed to get to him. He dropped his imprisoning arms and stepped away from her.

She waited for him to say something. He didn't. She looked down at the magnets around her feet. Kneeling, she gathered them up, the chicken, the Scottie, two cats and a frog. The frog had been injured in the fall a crack right down the middle of its white belly.

"Emma."

She didn't answer. Instead, she straightened, turned and stuck the magnets back where they belonged.

She felt rather than heard him move toward her again. All at once, he was right behind her. She tried to steel herself. It didn't do much good. Her midsection was melting. The blood in her veins pounded out his name.

"Hide from what?" he whispered much too tenderly, his breath warm against her ear.

"It's not a 'what,' it's a 'who,'" she replied, low and a little bit angrily. "And you know it, too."

He put those big hands of his at her waist, very lightly. She was wearing toreador pants and a crop top, which meant he was touching bare skin skin that warmed and softened and seemed to melt like the rest of her at his slightest touch.

His lips were against her hair. "You mean it's a 'whom.'"

She pressed her forehead to the cool freezer compartment door. The coolness didn't help. The rest of her was burning up with wanting him. "Who, whom, what's the difference? It's me, Jonas. You are hiding from me."

He pulled her, slowly, and so gently, back against him, tucking her into him, letting her feel that he wanted her as she wanted him. Then he loosened his hold a fraction and pressed his lips to her nape. She made it easy for him, bending her head, giving in to him as she always did. All he had to do was touch her, speak to her in that low, private voice that seemed to be meant only for her. And she was a goner. Pathetic. Pitiful. It had to stop. She lifted her head. It was a start. He stopped kissing the back of her neck. "I have never even seen your bedroom, Jonas. I have not seen where you sleep, your private place. We are married and I haven't seen it." He let go of her waist and put his hands on her shoulders instead. "You want to see my bedroom?" he whispered in her ear.

She kept her back straight, her chin high. "Yes, I do." His hands were on the move again. They slipped beneath her arms. His fingers grazed the side swells of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. She had to press her lips together to keep from letting out a hungry moan.

"All right," he said. "Come home. I'll show you my bedroom.""You'll show it to me?""That's right.""That's not enough.""You want more?""I sure do.""Name it." He cupped her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. She moaned at that, but very softly and then it occurred to her that this was not her room at Angel's Crest. This was her kitchen in North Hollywood and Claudia could come flying down the hall, Mandy in tow, any minute now.

She turned in his embrace and captured those wonderful hands of his. "Not now..." She sent a glance toward the arch that led to the hall.

He took her meaning and nodded. "You're right."

She let go of his hands. He had the grace to move away a few steps.

She told him what else she wanted. "I want us to share a bedroom, Jonas. I don't care whose bedroom, yours or mine. It doesn't matter. Just as long as we start spendin' whole nights together."

Something changed in his face. It seemed to close against her. All at once, his eyes were looking right through her. Emma shivered as if a cold wind had blown through the room.

"I sleep alone, Emma." He said it flatly, as something that was beyond discussion or dispute.

"Oh," she said. "Well, that sounds pretty final."

"It is."

Emma felt like a blind person who'd run up on a wall, just squashed herself flat against it with no prior warning.

She tried not to sound as disconcerted as she felt. "Okay," she said cheerfully. "As I said a few minutes ago, there are three bedrooms here. Claudia and Mandy have two of them. I've got the master. And you are very welcome to share my room with me any time you get tired of sleepin' on the sofa."

He looked at her as if he doubted she had any brains at all. "I told you. We cannot stay here."

"That's right, you told me. But you didn't bother to say why."

"You know d.a.m.n well why. It's not safe. There's no security."

"Sure, there is. I have an alarm system."

"A box, by the door and a couple of sensors in the windows? Come on, Emma. Any idiot could get through a system like yours. To even call it a system is pretty d.a.m.n ludicrous."

"Jonas. This is your paranoia speaking, that's what this is."

"If I'm paranoid, I have my reasons. And you know d.a.m.n well what they are."

Emma blinked. It was the first time in their entire acquaintance that he had referred of his own accord, even indirectly, to the tragedy of thirty years ago. Could this be called progress?

"Yes," she said carefully. "I do know. And what happened thirty years ago is not going to happen now."

He turned his head away from her, so he seemed to be studying the cabinets above the stove. "If you'd asked my parents back then, they probably would have said the same thing that it couldn't happen. It wouldn't happen. To them. But it did. It happened to them. To me. To my brother." He looked at her again or at least, he looked in her direction. His eyes were worlds away. "We never found him."

She wanted to say something wise and comforting and helpful, but all that came out was, "I know. Oh, and I am so very sorry..."

"It killed my father. He had a heart attack, but we all knew what caused it. To lose a son like that, to have him stolen from my father's house, right out from under his nose. My father was a man who believed, with some reason, that he had a certain degree of power in the world. But then he was forced to learn the true meaning of powerlessness. It killed him, that's all. And my mother, well, you know all about what happened to her."

Emma nodded. She felt she didn't dare speak. Though she had heard it all before, from Blythe, it still hurt, to hear these hard things. How much more it must hurt him, to say them.

Jonas said, "I have a detective agency, the best in the city, on retainer. I've had one agency or another on retainer ever since I was old enough to hire a d.a.m.n agency. They not only check out individuals for me, they keep an open file on my brother's kidnapping. They've come up with leads, now and then. Leads that go nowhere. The fact is, we still don't have a clue where my brother went, who took him, if he's long dead and buried in some shallow grave somewhere or if he's alive, a grown man now. Walking the earth somewhere, not knowing who he really is, where he came from, who his people are..."

His eyes were focused on her again, determined and so sure. "That's why we cannot stay here. You are not just Emma Lynn Hewitt anymore. You have married the Bravo Billionaire. And you will put all of us at risk if you continue to insist that we live with you here, where I can't guarantee that you and Mandy will be safe."

He straightened from the counter, came close again, put both big hands gently on her shoulders. "Now. I want you to go and pack up whatever needs packing. As soon as you're ready, we can go."

Emma stared up at him. She felt warm all over, a new kind of warmth. A warmth from more than the promise of great s.e.x. It had happened. For the first time.

Jonas had talked to her. Maybe, at last, they were getting somewhere and it was a good thing, too. They had such a long way to go.

"Oh, Jonas," she said. "No. We are not going back to that mansion of yours. Do what you have to do to make this house safe. Put in a state-of-the-art alarm system. That's fine with me. Get all those bodyguards of yours to hang around outside in the pyracantha bushes, ready, willin' and able to jump anybody who tries to threaten us. Whatever. But we are stayin' here for a while."

He dropped his hands from her shoulders. "Didn't you understand a word of what I just told you?"

"I did. I understood, but-"

"And yet you'd put us all in jeopardy anyway?"

"But we won't be in jeopardy. I am not going to believe that. n.o.body is after us. It's been thirty years since your brother was kidnapped, and n.o.body's tried to hurt you or your family since then. It is not going to happen again."

"Easy for you to say.""Jonas, you can protect us here as much as we really need protectin', anyway. Please.

Just give staying at my house a chance."

He stepped back, started to turn. "I'm taking Mandy with me. We are leaving now."

"Oh, wait..." She grabbed his arm.

He froze, looked down at her hand where it gripped his forearm, then slowly into her eyes. She let go of him. "You know what Blythe's will says. You have to live with me, where I say we will live, for one year. If you don't-"

"Are you threatening me, Emma?"

"No. I am ... remindin' you of our situation. And I am, well, I am willin' to compromise."

Coward, a voice in her head taunted. Lily-livered ninny. Yellow-bellied fool...

Should she stand firm? Well, okay. Maybe. But if he took Mandy and returned to the mansion, where would they be but right back where they'd started? Yes, she could sue him, and maybe somehow save Mandy from what, it was becoming less and less clear to her.

From her brother's overbearing protectiveness, maybe. From a life locked away at Angel's Crest.

But even if by some miracle she managed to wrestle custody from him and save Mandy, well, who would save Jonas?

His eyes had gotten warier but he hadn't turned away again. "Compromise, how?"

"We'll go back to Angel's Crest with you now, all of us."

"And?"

"And from now on ... we share a bedroom, you and me."

He made a low, disbelieving sound. "I told you-"

"I know you did. You sleep alone. But that's my offer. What do you say?"

He said nothing.

"You know, Jonas. I can't say as I'm flattered at how bad you don't want to sleep with me."

"Emma..."

"No. I'm not done yet. I'm gonna go further. Don't sleep with me. But don't come to my room nights, either."

He made that noise in his throat again, the one of total and complete disbelief. "You're not serious. You don't want that any more than I do."