“If I ever hit you, Emma, I would know it was time to pack it in. I wouldn’t be worth much as a human being.”
“And I would never, under any circumstances, tolerate another woman. If you decide to hurt me emotionally, know I will walk if you choose that as your test of what I will or won’t do for you. I’m trying to be as honest with you as you’re being with me.”
She was killing him. Destroying him. Making him so vulnerable inside, he felt like paper in the wind. She turned him inside out. She should be loathing him, despising everything he was, but instead she looked at him with her soft eyes, her warm heart in them, and she loved him. It was there. That look. The one he’d been waiting for. She made no pretense of hiding it. She sat exposed, unafraid, courageous, letting him see inside of her. And she made him weak and scared. Not just afraid. Terrorized.
He dropped her hands and stood up, knocking the heavy chair backward, pacing like a caged animal. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Emma? You should be running screaming out of here. I just told you about my bloodline. I told you that sometimes I want to hurt you—test you—yet you’re sitting there, all wide-eyed like some innocent virgin, thinking love conquers all. I don’t even believe in love. You know that, right? You should be running, damn it. Do you really think you’re going to be able to live with me? With the kinds of things I’ll demand from you? Your idea of love . . .”
“Is adolescent?” She raised her eyebrow as she quoted him back. “Because I don’t know about the kind of sex you want?” She didn’t raise her voice at all.
She stood too, crossing the small distance he had put between them. His head was down, in stalking mode, his eyes fierce, focused, frightening in their intensity. She ignored the wall he was attempting to build and went right up to him, ignoring the danger signals, turning her face up to his, her heat surrounding him, her scent deliberately enveloping him. She kept her voice a low, intimate tone, but made certain she enunciated each word.
“I may not know about your adult sex. But I know about love, Jake, and you don’t. You can teach me about your hard-core, kinky sex and I’ll teach you about making love. Being in love—real love—the kind of love that endures. The kind worth fighting for. The kind of love where when I look at you and you look at me, we can see each other all the way, deep down to everything hidden, and know we’re where we’re supposed to be. The good and the bad, strengths and weaknesses, everything we are and know. At the end of the day, we’ll know we’ve been truly loved.”
Emma put her palm on his chest, over his heart. “I’m not afraid of going where you lead. I believe in you. And I trust you with my life, but more importantly, with the lives of our children. I’m willing to put everything that I am into your hands because I trust you that much. I trust that you’ll put me first and protect and care for me with everything that you are. I’m not afraid of what you came from, or the monster you think lives inside of you. You’ve learned a lot of things about life that are ugly, but that doesn’t make me afraid either. Why? Because I know you. I see you. You aren’t hiding from me. I’ve lived with you for two years and I know you.”
She tilted her head to one side, studying his face. “Do you trust me? I think that’s the real question here. Do you trust me enough to put your life in my hands and follow where I lead? Do you have the courage to let yourself love? That’s the kind of man I want and need, Jake—a man with the courage to let himself learn from me. Because if there’s one thing I do well, it’s love.” She stood on her toes and kissed the corner of his mouth. “You’ll have to decide. Right now I’m going to go upstairs and get ready so the doctor can assure you I’m well enough to take my house back. And I’ll buy the most beautiful cocktail dress you’ve ever seen so you can get all sorts of interesting ideas for later on. In case you didn’t get it, I’m very proud of the man you’ve become.” She turned to walk away and he caught her wrist.
“Emma, wait. We’ll see about you going anywhere. Don’t set your heart on it.”
She made a face at him. “We won’t see. Nurse Tell-Me-What-to-Do can leave and I can have my house back.”
“We’ll see,” he repeated.
“If the doctor says I’m fine, then I want to go into the city and pick out a dress for the party.” When he frowned, she glared at him. “Unless you’ve changed your mind,” she said hopefully, “and decided I don’t have to go with you.” Although she was still going to get out of the house and off the ranch and just breathe for a while.
He massaged the nape of her neck. “You’re not getting out of it. If I have to go, you have to go. I’m not suffering alone.”
“Fine, I guess we’re going. So I’ll need a dress. I’ve never owned anything like what I’d need for this event.”
He tapped a pen on the top of a side table, his frown lines not just around his face but also crinkling his forehead, giving her warning of what was to come. “You don’t have to go out. We’ll have dresses sent from some shops and you can choose.”
She almost gritted her teeth. “I want to go out. Susan and I have been looking forward to going shopping. I’m sick of being cooped up.”
“You’ve never felt cooped up before.”
“Well, I do now. I want to go into the city and go shopping and get away from all this . . .” Testosterone. She felt overwhelmed by him sometimes, especially when he hovered so close when she was hurt. She felt like one of the children. She might as well be one of the children, lying next to him without him touching her. No, that was wrong—touching her without doing anything about it. She set her mouth mutinously. “I’m going shopping.”
His eyebrow shot up. “Really. I doubt you’ll go after Drake talks to you.” He paused and called Drake on the intercom. “Emma would like to go into the city—shopping.”
Jake heard Drake hiss and he folded his arms across his chest and leaned his hip against the wall, waiting. There was plenty of satisfaction in knowing Drake was going to take the brunt of her anger, not him. Which was a good thing; she was getting edgy again and his experience with Emma was that if she felt pushed past a certain point, her sharp little claws would come out.
The security team was in place—her security team—and if Emma wanted to go dress shopping rather than have dresses sent to the ranch for her to try on, she was going to have to accept what Drake was saying to her. Things had changed significantly since he put that ring on her finger, although she wasn’t going to like how. He sighed, wishing his life weren’t so complicated. This would be one more added pressure, one more thing Emma would balk over.
Emma said nothing, dropping back into her chair, drawing out the silence until Drake arrived along with Joshua. Drake came in and took the chair opposite Emma. Joshua closed the door and stood by it.
Emma tilted her chin and shifted her gaze from Drake’s stern face back to Jake. She didn’t look as if she was going to be blaming anything on Drake.
“You want to go shopping today?” Drake asked.
“Yes.” Her voice was firmer than ever. “If I don’t get out of here, I swear I’m going to lose my mind and there will be bloodshed—preferably Jake’s.” Her skin crawled with a thousand little ants, and it took every ounce of self-control she had to remain seated and not fly at someone and rake them with claws until they just got out of her face. She had the waves of heat that seemed to rush over her, until she was so hot she needed to tear off her clothes and stand outside in the cool air. “I’m getting snappy with the children and more than once I’ve thought about clawing out someone’s eyes.” Again she looked at Jake.
Drake’s eyebrow shot up and he flicked a quick glance at Joshua and then Jake.
Jake shrugged. “Just a minute ago she was being really sweet, Drake. I didn’t do anything.”
“If the doctor has okayed you leaving . . .”
“I swear, Drake, if one more person says that to me,” Emma snapped, “I’m going to hit him over the head. I don’t care what the stupid doctor says. I’m not staying in this room another minute. No one else is going to take care of my children. And everyone is going to stop telling me what to do.” She was beginning to feel like a child herself, with parents standing over her telling her what she could and couldn’t do. “And, Joshua, you can get away from the damned door before I throw something at you.”