Drake Sisters 05 - Safe Harbor

packed and you're wearing makeup. You never wear makeup unless you're going somewhere."
    "Hence the suitcases." She tried to slip past him, but Jonas trapped her against the banister and she was forced to halt. Hannah stared at his impressive chest and tried not to feel intimidated. He was so arrogant and with good reason. She couldn't stand up to him, she'd never been able to. And why did he choose this moment to show up?
    Why couldn't he have waited another hour? He always managed to find the exact moment when she felt the most vulnerable.
    "Where are you going?" His fingers caught her chin, forcing her head up.

    Her blue eyes flashed at him, letting him see her annoyance. "I told you last week. I have a job." And of course he wouldn't remember because she just wasn't that important to him.
    "I told you not to go. You're supposed to be looking after me."
    She was fairly certain her legs hadn't melted, but she felt dizzy being so close to him.
    She hated that he unbalanced her usual calm. Only Jonas could make her feel so combative and yet so needy at the same time. Her feelings for him were too complicated to sort out so she didn't bother to try.
    "You're not in any danger, Jonas," she pointed out. "Only bored. You hate not working and you're so crabby no one else can stand being around you." And you're working anyway, doing exactly what you promised you'd never do again . She didn't say the words aloud—it wasn't part of the "pretend it never happened" game they always played—but she wanted to. She even had a sudden urge to just lift his shirt and examine his ribs. She knew there would be a fresh wound or two, but she remained silent like she always did, letting him walk right over her. His faint, answering smile made her heart turn over and she was angry with herself for her reaction.
    "Unfortunately that could be true. All of your sisters have deserted me, not only going out of town, but the country. I'm going to starve. You know that, don't you? If you leave, I'm not going to get a decent meal and then how am I going to heal?"
    "Sarah will be back from her trip with Damon tomorrow. She'll fix you dinner while I'm gone," Hannah said and pulled away from him. She detested that, as she stepped away, her body felt cold as if his had provided untold warmth and safety.
    She hated more that she was torn between wanting to laugh and cry. "You aren't going to starve."
    "I like your cooking. And she doesn't give me hell the way you do. She just gets annoyed and tells me to go home."
    Hannah didn't want to be charmed by him. Jonas was everything she could never be—
    adventurous, courageous, a man who lived his life confidently. "I should send you home, especially if you're going to give me a hard time." She should, and if she had any backbone at all, she would. She turned away from him, afraid he would read the hurt on her face as she hurried down the hall.
    She felt his presence as he kept pace right behind her. It seemed sometimes that she'd always felt Jonas, as if he were a part of her, sharing her skin and her flesh and bones, crawling into her heart and stealing her soul. She blinked back tears, careful to keep her face averted as she made her way through the large house to the kitchen. She was so emotional lately, ever since Jonas had been shot and nearly killed a few weeks earlier. She had nightmares and spent most of the nights pacing or sitting up on the captain's walk watching the sea. She had to leave just to put some distance between them and get back her balance.

    The last four days had been pure hell. She had waited for hours that first night, terrified for him. Then she'd cried for a day, waiting by the phone, not leaving the house. And finally she had to accept that he took her for granted, and that he wasn't going to call and reassure her—or thank her—or even acknowledge that she might be worried. She didn't matter; her feelings didn't matter; once he no longer needed her, she slipped from his mind. She swallowed hard, her eyes burning.
    "Why are you insisting on going to New York? You don't even like New York. It's total bullshit, Hannah. And you can forget ignoring me like you do when you don't want to tell me things. We're going to talk." Jonas settled his fingers around her arm.
    The action brought her attention instantly to his strength. That was what Jonas was all about—strength. He had it all and she had none. He never physically hurt her, not even when he was angry with her. And she