Drake Sisters 05 - Safe Harbor

over at the file sitting on her dresser. It was a lot thicker than she had ever conceived it of being. Did all those people hate her and want her dead? How could she have ignored it all the years she'd modeled? How many were there? And what had she done to make them feel that way about her?

Chapter Seventeen
    SOMEONE hated her enough to want to kill her . They had already made three attempts and would make another. What had she ever done to make someone loathe her so much?
    Hannah shivered, feeling the black hatred sliding into her room. Desperate to get outside, where the wind would protect her, would wrap her up and keep her safe, she snatched up her blanket, drew it around her and hurried out to the balcony to sit in her chair. She'd have to refuse to go with poor Jonas. Oh, Lord, what had she done? She was naked under her skirt and blouse and she'd cut off her hair. She was an absolute idiot to think she could blithely go out for the evening and seduce Jonas. She felt like a fool. Thank God he didn't know what she'd been thinking all evening, getting ready for him. If he saw her in her skirt and blouse, he'd know what had been on her mind.
    It would be so humiliating to have to refuse him and… She buried her face in her hands. He'd know she was falling apart again.

    JONAS swore and stared for a moment at the locked door. He'd spent hours going through suspect files and working to find out who was trying to harm Hannah. All day he'd thought about nothing else but getting back to Hannah. He'd worked out the steps of escaping safely with her, paying attention to the smallest detail so she wouldn't have to feel a prisoner in her own home—so she could be empowered. And now—
    once again—she'd locked him out.
    The sweep of anger shaking him was definitely out of proportion, but he'd had enough of locked doors. Hannah knew him better than that. Resisting the idea of breaking it down, he picked the lock and let himself in.
    The French doors leading to the balcony overlooking the sea were open as usual.
    White lacy drapes billowed into the room, bringing in the mist and tang of sea salt.
    She was wrapped in a blanket and sitting in a chair, staring down at the turbulent water, stubbornly refusing to look at him. He leaned one hip lazily against the doorjamb and studied her averted face.
    The blanket slipped as she leaned forward to throw something over the railing. The wind blew some of it back toward him. A long spiral curl landed on his chest.
    "What the hell, Hannah?" he demanded, balancing a mug of tea in one hand and catching platinum strands in the other. "What have you done?"
    She jumped, a small squeak of fear tangling in her throat. She drew the blanket closer around her like a hood, covering most of her face. "A locked door usually means someone wants to be alone." Her voice was that husky whisper of sound he found sexy as hell. It played up and down his spine and gave him one hell of a hard-on. He shifted a little to try to ease the continual ache centered in his groin.
    "I don't like being locked out."
    She flinched under his steady gaze. "It's called privacy."
    "You've had enough of privacy. You can be angry with me, Hannah, and yell and tell me to go to hell, but you don't fucking lock the door against me. It just pisses me off more. If you're having a difficult time, say so."
    "Locking the door is saying so."

    "It's the two of us together, not you alone anymore. We aren't going to have one of those lame, half-assed relationships."
    She frowned. "What exactly does that mean?"
    "It means you don't lock the damn door on me."
    "Sheesh. All right. Fine." She sighed and capitulated. "In all honesty, I didn't realize the door was locked."
    "Then why didn't you just say so?"
    "Because you yelled at me."
    "Well, just don't lock the door again." He handed her the mug of tea and snagged another chair, dragging it beside hers.
    She immediately wrapped her hands around the warmth of the cup. "Thanks, Jonas."
    "You're welcome. I put honey in it for you. Are you ready to go?" She didn't look ready, not the way she was clutching the blanket so desperately and hiding in its folds.
    He couldn't see her hair, but there were several long strands on the balcony floor.
    She started to speak, to tell him she wasn't going, he was certain, but she stopped and took a small sip of tea as if gathering courage. When the silence stretched, she sighed.
    "I want to go, Jonas. It's just that…" She trailed off.
    "Baby." He said