Risky Business

what does Faith know?”
    “Only what she has to know. I’d never lie to her.”
    “And do you know that Marcus Jensann has his sights set on the senate, and maybe higher?”
    Her color drained quickly and completely. “You know him?”
    “By reputation.”
    Panic came and went, then returned in double force. “He doesn’t know Faith exists. None of them do. They can’t.”
    Watching her steadily, he took a step closer. “What are you afraid of?”
    “Power. Faith is mine, she’s going to stay mine. None of them will ever touch her.”
    “Is that why you stay here? Are you hiding from them?”
    “I’ll do whatever’s necessary to protect my child.”
    “He’s still got you running scared.” Furious for her, Jonas took her arms. “He’s got a frightened teenager strapped inside of you who’s never had the chance to stretch and feel alive. Don’t you know a man like that wouldn’t even remember who you are? You’re still running away from a man who wouldn’t recognize you on the street.”
    She slapped him hard enough to make his head snap back. Breathing fast, she backed away from him, appalled by a show of violence she hadn’t been aware of possessing. “Don’t tell me what I’m running from,” she whispered. “Don’t tell me what I feel.” She turned and fled. Before she’d reached the front door he had her again, whirling her around, gripping her hard. He no longer knew why his anger was so fierce, only that he was past the point of controlling it.
    “How much have you given up because of him?” Jonas demanded. “How much have you cut out of your life?”
    “It’s my life!” she shouted at him.
    “And you won’t share it with anyone but your daughter. What the hell are you going to do when she’s grown? Whatthe hell are you going to do in twenty years when you have nothing but your memories?”
    “Don’t.” Tears filled her eyes too quickly to be blinked away.
    He grabbed her close again, twisting until she had to look at him. “We all need someone. Even you. It’s about time someone proved it to you.”
    “No.”
    She tried to turn her head but he was quick. With his mouth crushed on hers she struggled, but her arms were trapped between their bodies and his were ironlike around her. Emotions already mixed with fear and anger became more confused with passion. Liz fought not to give in to any of them as his mouth demanded both submission and response.
    “You’re not fighting me,” he told her. His eyes were close, searing into hers. “You’re fighting yourself. You’ve been fighting yourself since the first time we met.”
    “I want you to let me go.” She wanted her voice to be strong, but it trembled.
    “Yes. You want me to let you go just as much as you want me not to. You’ve been making your own decisions for a long time, Liz. This time I’m making one for you.”
    Her furious protest was lost against his mouth as he pressed her down to the sofa. Trapped under him, her body began to heat, her blood began to stir. Yes, she was fighting herself. She had to fight herself before she could fight him. But she was losing.
    She heard her own moan as his lips trailed down her throat, and it was a moan of pleasure. She felt the hard line of his body against hers as she arched under him, but it wasn’t a movement of protest. Want me, she seemed to say. Want me for what I am.
    Her pulse began to thud in parts of her body that had been quiet for so many years. Life burst through her like a torrid wind through thin glass until every line of defense was shattered. With a desperate groan, she took his face in her hands and dragged his mouth back to hers.
    She could taste the passion, the life, the promises. She wanted them all. Recklessness, so long chained within, tore free and ruled. A sound bubbled in her throat she wasn’t even aware was a laugh as she wrapped herself around him. She wanted. He wanted. The hell with the rest.
    He wasn’t sure what had driven him—anger, need, pain. All he knew now was that he had to have her, body, soul and mind. She was wild beneath him, but no longer in resistance. Every movement was a demand that he take more, give more, and nothing seemed fast enough. She was a storm set to rage, a fire desperate to consume. Whatever he’d released inside of her had whipped out and taken him prisoner.
    He pulled the shirt over her head and tossed it aside. His heartbeat thundered. She was so small, so delicate. But he had a beast inside