Drake Sisters 05 - Safe Harbor

black at times, and when she touched him, even a small brief brush of her hand against him, the empath in her recoiled from the heavy darkness in him.
    What could he tell her? His existence had been one long life filled with death and destruction, the seamier side of life, the dregs, the drug lords, terrorists and mobsters.
    He had retreated to Sea Haven needing to change his life before he drowned in the blood and gore and violence he never seemed able to walk away from. How could he tell her she had to save him? That would scare her to death, but it was the truth.
    Sometimes it just got too much to sit by and not do something real, like put his life on the line, and he needed her to pull him back from the edge of that precipice.
    How could he explain how truly crazy he could be? When he'd seen Terry killed, he'd leapt into plain sight, with no cover, and begun firing at the attackers in a blind haze, somewhere between ice and white-hot rage, wanting to take all of them down.
    Hannah would run away and he couldn't blame her. Hell, half the time he couldn't understand why he did any of the things he did. He only knew that when he was with her, when he could see her and smell her and breathe her in, his life had sanity and meaning.
    He needed to be like Jackson, able to switch off all emotion and get the job done, but he'd never mastered that art. He worried about his men, about his deputies, about the people he protected. Hell. He even worried about the families of the men he killed. He

    couldn't turn it off—he never had been able to—and he was damned good at what he did, so his old boss was always ready to hand him another job.
    "Jonas," Hannah repeated gently, her fingers brushing his face. "What's wrong?"
    There was desperation in his eyes, he looked driven, in pain—not physical—pure emotional pain, his heart beating too fast, his body almost rigid. He was holding on to her too tight, his grip hurting her, when he was always— always —gentle with her.

Chapter Four
    HANNAH didn't know what to say to ease Jonas's pain. She didn't even fully understand the desperation in him, but she saw he was at a breaking point and it shocked her. Jonas was a rock they all leaned on. Everyone. Every single person in Sea Haven. People up and down the coast. Deputies. Firemen. Jonas Harrington was the man to go to when there was trouble because he would find a way to get you out of it. For the first time, Hannah could see Jonas was in real trouble and not from a life-threatening wound.
    "I don't understand what's going on, Jonas. Make me understand."
    He closed his eyes, shutting out the sight of her, but there was no way to shut off his senses. She was everywhere, inside him, and there was no getting her out. "I'm just lost without you, Hannah." And God help him, it was true. He'd been falling for a long time, and dangerous job or not, she had to drag him back into the light, where he could breathe again. He opened his eyes and looked into hers and found himself trapped there.
    Hannah knelt on the floor in front of him and framed his face with her hands. Her heart was pounding so hard she was afraid she was going to go into another panic attack. She was offering herself to him, and if he turned her down, there would be no recovering from the heartbreak. She would shatter. But finding a way to ease that look on his face, his eyes, that was all that mattered now—not her pride or her fear.
    She leaned into him and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. He went very still, his breath hitching. She kissed the other corner, this time sliding her hand around to the nape of his neck to just hold him there. Hannah nibbled on his chin, his lower lip, pressed more kisses along his jaw.
    Jonas made a single sound and his fingers tunneled in her hair, pulling back her head, his mouth fastening on hers. He simply took what she was offering and damn the consequences. He had to have her. He'd always known Hannah was the only one for him. Every other woman paled for him beside her.

    He could kiss her forever. The silken heat of her mouth and the sweet taste of her became a craving. Once, he'd thought if he kissed her, his need of her would go away, but now he knew kissing her forever was not going to be long enough. He kissed her again and again, leading her into deeper, much more erotic kisses. She followed willingly, kissing him back, her hands sliding under his shirt to touch his bare skin.
    His body jerked, hardened,