“You think I give a damn whether they like me or not?” Jake snarled. “And don’t call me ‘boss man.’ You only do it when you’re pissed.”
Drake shrugged. “You lose me any more of my crew and I’ll be walking myself.” His probing gaze slid over Jake, clearly assessing him. “You brought me here to educate you about your heritage, but you don’t listen to me.” He looked around, his face suddenly etched with something close to sorrow. “I have a hard time breathing here. If I can’t be of help to you, I need to go back to the forest where I belong.”
“No way, Drake. I need you here.” Jake cursed the fact that he’d been so moody, so edgy, everything and everyone around him making him want to fight, to rip and tear at anything. The mood swings didn’t seem to let up, not for a moment, and the black temper rode him so hard that he actually felt uncomfortable even in his own skin. He knew he had a cruel side to him, he just hadn’t been so aware of it slipping out before he could get control. He despised that part of him, so like his parents, so cutting and cold. He’d sworn he would never be like that, yet here he was, the master of cruelty.
What the hell had Emma said to him the other night while he lay on her bed, his blood pounding with need in his veins. Power corrupts. It had been another night where neither could sleep and they’d engaged in one of their common “we don’t know what the hell we’re talking about” conversations, but that little phrase stuck in his head. His parents were corrupted by the need for money and power. Was it possible he was just as corrupted? He hated admitting to Emma he had a sense of entitlement.
“I listen to you, Drake,” Jake said. Drake Donovon was not a man to be pushed around. Danger lurked just beneath the surface. He was a good man to have on one’s side, but would definitely make a bitter, unrelenting enemy. Jake raked his fingers through his hair, wanting to jump out of his skin. If he ever needed anyone in his life right then, it was Drake.
Drake shook his head. He was built along the same lines as Jake, broad shoulders; thick, muscular chest; ropes of muscles along his arms and thighs. An enormously strong man, yet lithe and fluid, moving silently, like water flowing over rock. It wasn’t difficult to notice the pronounced limp he had when he moved. When he was still, everything stopped. He became so still he was nearly a part of his surroundings. His blond hair was shaggy and untamed, his eyes a little strange, piercing and focused, a brilliant golden green.
“You need a woman. I told you, you can’t go that long and let the tension build up.”
“I’ve had women, sometimes twice in a day. A few times more, damn it. It doesn’t do any good. I’m still as hard as a rock and feel meaner than ever. It claws at me day and night until I think I’m going insane. I haven’t slept in weeks. I can barely walk half the time, and if a man comes near the house, I want to rip his fucking head off.” Not to mention, when he lay beside Emma on her bed, he felt guilty, as though he’d betrayed her. And worse, he wanted to attack her. He was afraid he might actually lose control one day and just roll her under him and bury himself deep and hard, the way he wanted.
Drake blinked, his eyes suddenly narrowing, one eyebrow shooting up. “Near the house?” he echoed. “And what claws at you?”
“I need sex every minute, but when a woman touches me, I end up despising them. My skin crawls and I find myself doing things, saying things . . .” He broke off, his lips tightening. “I’m not very proud of myself. I act like a bastard—and they just come back for more. Then I walk into the house and it starts all over again.”
“You have a woman there. Emma.”
Drake’s voice irritated Jake when he said her name. Smooth. Like velvet. Knots formed in his belly. “What about her?”
“She takes care of your son. Your house. Does all the things a man’s woman does for him. But you don’t have sex.”
“That’s right.” Jake’s voice rumbled with a low, warning growl. He didn’t want Drake, with his good looks and charm, going up to the house with Emma. That would push Jake right over the edge. “Not with Emma.”
Drake frowned at the sound of Jake’s voice. He took a good long look at Jake’s eyes and body language. “I thought this woman was just your housekeeper, but you’re pretty wound up about her, Jake.” Now there was curiosity in Drake’s voice.
Jake didn’t want Drake or anyone else curious about Emma. He hadn’t expected to want to be with her. To feel a sense of peace even with his body raging out of control. She was supposed to want to be with him, not the other way around. She’d turned his entire life upside down and he couldn’t do a damned thing about it. She had him suffering , physically, emotionally, in every way possible and his temper was getting shorter and shorter.
“I’m wound up, but not because of her,” Jake lied. And it was a lie. Blatant. Stupid. Hell, he was obsessive over Emma and getting worse every day.
He used every excuse to go into her room at night. He was pathetically grateful for the nightmares she sometimes had, and for the fact that she’d gotten used to him stretching out beside her while they talked in hushed, intimate voices. Of course she didn’t know his body was as hard as a rock, and that the moment he left her, he jerked off like some silly teenage boy with no control.
“I want to meet her again.”
Instantly the air thickened with tension. Murderous rage swept through Jake, a tidal wave that shook him. Thunder crashed in his ears, his blood boiled and fire burned in his belly. He actually saw red. Beneath his skin, something wild broke free and ran, itching uncontrollably. His jaw filled with teeth; his lips drew back in a snarl. Jake turned his head away from Drake, knowing his eyes glowed a feral red. He took several deep breaths to try to control the rampaging leopard clawing to break free.
As the wild animal in him wrestled for supremacy, his horse reared, screaming in fear, then suddenly lunged and bucked, trying to dislodge him. Jake dug his knees in harder and controlled the animal, murmuring soothing words, grateful for the distraction.
When the horse was calm, he glanced warily at Drake. “You’ve met Emma several times.” Drake wasn’t like the other men, flocking around her, looking for handouts of fresh coffee, baked bread and cookies. Drake had a tendency to be a loner, keeping to himself, living in one of the smaller cabins on the property.
Drake shrugged. “If she’s affecting you like this . . .”
Jake frowned. “I didn’t say she was having any effect on me at all. I’m restless and bored, but women don’t get under my skin.”
Drake snorted derisively. If it had been any other man, Jake would have been tempted to knock him off his horse. But Drake was different. He held a certain respect for Drake, so he kept his vicious temper under check.
“I’ll tell you straight up, Jake,” Drake said, gathering the reins. “You’re acting a hell of a lot like a man who has a mate going into heat.” He pushed back his hat and turned his horse away. “If that’s the case, the symptoms only get worse.”
“I don’t have a mate. And women don’t go into heat.”
Drake nodded. “So you say.” He dug his heels into the horse’s side and trotted away, leaving Jake staring after him.
“WHEN will he be here?” Susan Hindman hopped up and down excitedly, leaping from one foot to the other. “Honestly, Emma, how can you stay so calm?”
Emma smiled one of her slow smiles and continued kneading the bread dough. “He’ll be here soon enough, if he’s radioed in. Don’t worry, you’ll have plenty of time to be with him. After all, you’ll be here another four weeks.” Susan was Senator Hindman’s daughter, and he’d called and asked if they could watch her while the senator was out of the country. She was good company and Emma really liked her, but she had a terrible crush on Jake.