Owned By Fate(43)

“Baby.”

Oh, boy.

Focus! You’re here for Eliza.

“Where is she?” Caroline asked briskly, finding the strength to move past him.

“Couch.”

Her brow knit in concern when she saw her friend sprawled out on Jonah’s black suede couch, completely passed out. Beside her on the coffee table, a cup of coffee still steamed. Something in her heart turned over at that gesture, presumably made by Jonah, but she quickly discarded that reaction.

“What was she thinking?” Caroline said, more to herself than anything. “She usually tells me everything.”

“No one tells anyone everything.”

She turned. “That’s pretty cynical.”

“It’s the truth.” He raised an eyebrow. “Did you tell her you came here Tuesday night?”

“Yes, but only in case I was never heard from again.” When something she couldn’t name flashed across his face, Caroline shook her head. “That was a joke.”

Jonah turned and walked to the kitchen. “I don’t think she’ll wake up any time soon. You might as well have a cup of coffee.”

Caroline hesitated to leave her best friend, but a soft snore made the decision for her. Jonah was right. No way could she get a comatose Eliza downstairs and out of the club without drawing a lot of attention. She had a feeling her friend wouldn’t appreciate her snoring form being carried out of Serve and stuffed into a cab. In front of hundreds of onlookers, no less. Even so, time spent with Jonah was a danger to her sanity. She’d made up her mind not to see him again, knowing nothing could be allowed to come of it. Not even more exploration of their physical connection. Tonight, though, with him looking like a sex-mussed playboy, that hard-won resolve would inevitably weaken.

She looked back at Eliza, wondering what the hell was going on with her best friend. Apparently their conversation at the stock exchange engagement hadn’t been enough to cure her curiosity of this place. Get your ass up, Gilmore Girl. Caroline kicked the couch a little, but her friend didn’t so much as flinch.

With a sigh, she followed Jonah into the kitchen. She found him pulling a mug down from the cabinet, looking completely out of place in such a homey setting. He looked more suited to standing in front of a roulette wheel with three women hanging off his arms. Caroline refused to examine why that image made her want to hack firewood with an ax.

“How do you take it?”

She hopped onto a stool situated against the marble island. “Just cream. No sugar.”

“You’re already sweet enough?” She gave him a pointed look, and he smiled tightly. “You didn’t wear a coat. Are you cold?”

Jesus, no. “I’m fine.” Hot, so hot. “I’m just worried about my friend.”

Jonah set down the coffee in front of her on the counter. He was standing way too close for her peace of mind. “Do you know why she came here?”

Caroline thought back to the conversation she’d had with her friend. Now that she thought about it harder, Eliza had definitely been quick to shift the focus from herself, questioning what had gone down between Caroline and Jonah. Not that she would let him know she’d been discussing him. That would be distinctly unwise. “I know she met a man here that first night. She couldn’t have come back here looking for him, right?”

“You want me to look into it?”

He was so close now, the hair at her neck moved with his warm breath. “How can you? I don’t even know his name.”

“There’s always a way, Caroline.” Her eyes closed involuntarily when he stroked his hand down the back of her head. “If there isn’t one, I’ll make one. If I haven’t made it clear enough, I’d do anything you asked of me.”

“Except let me go.”

“Except that.”

His fingers tangled in her hair, and she felt her bones liquefy under his touch, her neck go slack. “Did the article…hurt your chances to see your daughter?”

For just a split second, his hand paused before resuming its movement. “It didn’t stall them any more than they already were. You might have saved me by not mentioning my name.” He paused. “That doesn’t mean I’m any less unhappy with you, Caroline. Neither does my calling you here to retrieve your friend. I’m only doing what I’m compelled to do.”

“I didn’t like writing the feature,” she whispered, feeling a weight fall from her shoulders. He was too close, too overwhelming for her to explore why. “I almost didn’t publish it. It…felt wrong.”

They were breathing into each other’s space, mouths inches apart. Jonah’s hand coasted up her thigh, over the black garter outlined beneath her leggings, to rest just below her panty line. “You say you’re fine. But you’re still wearing my gift, so why don’t you tell me how you’ve really been, baby?”