Drake Sisters 05 - Safe Harbor

could make him angry in a heartbeat—it was the only protection left to her.
    As if reading her mind, he gave her a small, impatient shake. "Don't think you're going to drive me away with all your nonsense this time, Hannah. We have to settle this."
    She sent him the haughty, over-the-shoulder look she'd perfected while dealing with his arrogance for years. "You mean you'll talk and I'm supposed to listen. I don't think there's anything at all to settle. I have a job and I'm going to New York. There isn't anything else to say." She couldn't talk to him. Once she said the things she needed to say, she'd lose him forever. There would be no going back, no hope at all. She'd have to accept that she was absolutely nothing to him.
    "Really?" His hand transferred to the nape of her neck, his fingers brushing her skin intimately and sending a shiver of awareness through her body.
    She was fairly certain he did it on purpose—that he knew her physical reaction to him—but she couldn't be certain so she took the coward's way out and simply walked the few steps left to the kitchen. "I made you something to eat."
    "But you're not eating." He made it a statement, clipped and harsh—accusing.
    She took a breath and let it out, going straight to the stove to put on the tea kettle.
    Jonas stopped halfway across the room and she could feel his penetrating gaze on her, demanding an answer. "I have a show, Jonas."
    He said something ugly under his breath and she stiffened. "I'm not doing this with you again, Jonas. I model. I have an assignment. You don't have to like what I do, but it's my job and I keep my word when I say I'll be there."
    "I don't have to like it, Hannah, you're right about that, but considering what it does to you, you at least have to like it and you don't. Don't bother lying to me. I see liars every day in my line of work, and a child does a better job than you."
    She waved her hand at the stove, too tired to argue with him and make tea at the same time, although the ritual often soothed her. The stove leapt to life, burning with a ring of tiny flames, the tea kettle whistling a demand instantly. She caught up the kettle and splashed water into a teapot, pressing her lips together to keep from telling him to leave. She didn't want him to leave, she wanted him to sit quietly and have tea with her. She needed him to sit quietly and talk with her. Before she left, she had to reassure herself he was unharmed.
    She sneaked a quick glance. He looked a little pale, tired, lines etched into his face, but tough as nails. That was Jonas. Hard as a rock. He didn't need anybody, least of all her. She was fluff to him, nothing more. He'd always made that so clear. Her life was falling apart and he was like the sea, a constant, steady anchor she counted on.
    "You just can't resist being the Barbie doll, can you," he said bitterly.
    "Why do you have to do that, Jonas?" She turned, anger and hurt waning in her eyes.
    "I've never made fun of you being a sheriff. I could, you know. You're bossy and arrogant and you think you can control everyone and tell them what to do. I don't like that you risk your life, but you do that, too, and I never ask you not to do it." And she hadn't either. Her sisters had, but she had remained silent, praying he would give his promise, but supporting him in whatever choice he made. "I understand that it's who you are, who you have to be. Why can't you afford me the same courtesy?"
    "You want me to be okay with you showing off your body to every nutcase in the world? It isn't going to happen, honey. You're extraordinary and you know it. No one looks like you, and your face and body are recognized everywhere, by everyone. I don't think there's a person in the world that doesn't know your face. You talk about taking risks. I risk my life to help other people. You risk yours so everyone can see just how good you look."
    "Has it ever occurred to you just how utterly selfish you can be, Jonas?" She whirled around to face him, her back against the counter. She was a little shocked at the violence welling up in her. She had an urge to slap his handsome face.
    Up close he always surprised her with his size. He was so perfectly proportioned she didn't always notice his height, but so close to her, he looked down on her, his shoulders wide and his chest a little intimidating.
    He stepped even closer, so that his body crowded against hers, caging her, his heat warming her. "How am I being selfish by telling