Owned by Fate (Serve #1)(40)

Without another second’s hesitation, he strode toward the staircase.

…

Caroline sat immobile in her seat. She could hear Chris, the source she’d come here to meet, asking her if she was all right, but beyond a quick nod, she couldn’t find the wherewithal to communicate. Because she was the furthest thing from all right. So many times this week, she’d imagined seeing Jonah in a setting just like this. The market. A movie theater. The gym. Wondering if they’d ever cross paths again and imagining what it would be like. She’d never expected it to be so soon. Nor did she anticipate the immediate reaction she would have upon seeing him.

Dark, dizzying lust danced in her belly as she and Jonah maintained their blistering eye contact. She couldn’t look away from his anger. It was magnificent in its intensity. After a week of floating untethered, feeling nothing resembling what Jonah could make her feel, his unchecked emotions slammed through her hard, stealing her breath. She should be scared of an expression so forbidding, but she only wanted closer. It made little sense, and yet the sudden, pounding need overrode any kind of intelligent thought. Caroline could feel the blood moving in her veins; every breath she took sounded like a windstorm.

When Jonah’s attention transferred from her to Chris, darkening further, she forced herself back into the present situation. Chris, aka Patrick Dempsey’s way less charming twin brother, had his hand on her arm, speaking urgently near her face. Too close. Again. She’d asked him here tonight to talk about Joseph Kimble, and while he’d given her invaluable information, he’d begun treating their business meeting as more of a date. She’d continued to steer the conversation back toward her investigation, but he’d been more interested in her star sign and how she liked her eggs cooked. He was a sleazeball she had zero interest in personally.

Jonah drew her attention once more when he made for the staircase, appearing as though he were intent on doing somebody physical damage. Caroline sucked in a breath, knowing he’d misinterpreted the business meeting as a date. Kind of like Chris, but with more vicious results. He had no right to question her being out with another man. None at all. They were not in anything resembling a relationship. Yet her body—and another part of her she refused to name—told her he had every right. She should stand her ground and refuse to let him interrupt her meeting, but the look on his face propelled her into motion.

Caroline pushed back her chair and stood. “Excuse me.”

“Where are you going?” Chris asked, sounding puzzled.

She didn’t answer, her focus centered on Jonah. Stopping him from reaching the table and creating a scene. At least, that’s what she told herself at that moment. Truthfully, she was physically gravitating toward him. As she drew closer, the ache in her belly tightened, making her breath falter, a whimper passing her lips. Jonah narrowed his gaze when he saw her coming toward him and must have read something on her face, because he changed direction, leading her away from the upstairs dining room toward the back of the restaurant. When they rounded the corner, he threw a hot glance over his shoulder before opening a door marked Stairwell.

“Up,” Jonah commanded as Caroline walked through the opening, shivering from the sound of his voice. She began her ascent of the stairs, heat rolling through her in ferocious waves. Every inch of her tingled with the awareness of him following close behind, no doubt watching her every step. It was impossible not to sway her hips, to allow her dress to ride higher on her thighs. Not when she could hear the low, hunger-filled sounds he made as they climbed. Not when she knew instinctively what was coming, even though they had barely exchanged words.

At the top of the staircase, Caroline pushed open the exit door and walked out onto the patio. Having been here during the summer, she knew the space was used for dining throughout the warmer months. However, the crisp fall breeze blowing her hair around her face meant they were outside alone. And Caroline couldn’t have felt a chill at that moment in two feet of snow. Finally, she turned to face Jonah, taken off guard once again by his anger.

“Who is he?” He came toward her slowly but purposefully, backing her against a concrete wall, deep in the shadows. She gasped as their bodies made contact for the first time in far too long, hard against soft, every line of his body taut with tension. “Who is he, Caroline?”

She inhaled shakily, squeezing her eyes closed when he brushed the hair back from her face. Such a tender gesture when coupled with his anger. Another contradiction. “You know it’s none of your business. You know we’re not…together.”

“Oh, believe me, I’m aware.” Jonah took both of her hands in one of his and pinned them above her, high on the wall, leaving her feeling exposed. Starting at her neck, he trailed a single finger down between her heaving breasts, over her belly, to end at the juncture of her thighs. “And yet you abandon your little date to follow me up here. Something of a mixed signal, isn’t it, sweetheart?”

Before she could answer, Jonah’s hand slipped between her legs to cup her intimately, with pure, blatant ownership. Caroline arched her back on a husky moan, thrusting her breasts toward him shamelessly. After days of attempting to ease herself, the simple act of Jonah cradling her in his hand somehow managed to be infinitely more satisfying than any effort she’d made. Each and every overwrought cell in her body rushed toward his touch greedily, reveling in the exquisiteness of it. “Oh, Jonah. Please.”