Caroline. Everywhere he looked, even inside his own club, there were reminders of her. He’d ordered the bartenders to stop garnishing the drinks with lollipops, unable to provide a coherent explanation. His private elevator suddenly felt huge. This afternoon, he’d observed a spanking being delivered on the first floor and had immediately wondered if Caroline would disapprove…or if it would turn her on. These were useless thoughts considering how she’d walked out on him again, but nothing stemmed them.
And if his obsession with a woman who’d written him off wasn’t bad enough, he’d received more news about his petition for visitation this afternoon, courtesy of his lawyer. His request to meet with Renee to discuss terms had once again been rejected. When Winston had hesitantly suggested withholding financial support to see if Renee would relent, Jonah had immediately said no. He had no court order dictating that he was required to give Renee money, but the idea that Gabby might suffer from his actions made him feel sick.
Jesus, he hadn’t felt this out of control in a long time. He was a man who got what he wanted. Not because the things he wanted miraculously fell into his lap. Oh no. He worked his ass off for what he had. He might have procured Serve with winnings from a poker game, but that had only been the beginning of his battle to make it a premier New York City destination. He’d practically renovated it with his bare hands, turning it from an abandoned tenement building into a place he was proud of. He’d spent months being turned down by investors until he’d found one willing to take a shot on a nobody from nowhere.
He hadn’t been that nobody in so long, he’d forgotten what it felt like. When nothing you did or said made an ounce of difference. Not with Gabby’s mother. Certainly not with Caroline. The feeling sat like a lead weight in his stomach, making him edgy, turning his usual craving for control into an entirely different animal.
Jonah picked up the glass of whiskey and took a healthy pull, his eyes rising of their own accord to the restaurant’s second level, which overlooked the bar.
It took him a minute to believe what his eyes were seeing.
Caroline, sitting at a table with a man in his mid-thirties, her face lit by soft candlelight. For the first time since he’d met her, she wore no glasses. Her arms were bare, except for the gorgeous wealth of hair falling down around her, caressing her skin like a lover. The black cocktail dress she wore came to mid-thigh, drying his mouth, the feel of those very legs squeezing tight around his head still a powerful memory.
She smiled at something the man said, dulling Jonah’s vision at the edges. A roar began in his ears. His instinct dictated that he should take the stairs two at a time, drag her out of the restaurant by any means necessary, and ask questions later. After he’d reminded her, very clearly, who she’d called Master.
Jonah’s hands fisted at his sides, the need to touch her so painful, they shook. No, he couldn’t take this. Couldn’t sit there and watch her enjoy the company of any man beside himself. It went against the voice shouting in his head. The one chanting, Mine, mine, mine, on a loop until he almost bellowed it out loud. Even seeing her with someone else, even knowing she found him acceptable where Jonah was not, he still wanted her to an illogical degree. He absorbed the image of her, his body readying to give her the pleasure she’d denied him giving the last time they were together. It would be a cold day in hell before he let a man attempt to put out the fire he’d stoked inside her.
When the man reached across the table and laid his hand on top of Caroline’s, Jonah came off his barstool in a flash, sending it scraping loudly across the floor. He’d just made the decision to go get her, irrational or not, when their gazes collided.
Even from a distance, Jonah swore he could hear her quick intake of breath, the accelerated pumping of her heart. Green eyes widened in a face gone pale. She made a move to stand, but the man grabbed hold of her arm, as if in concern. Jonah’s jaw clenched dangerously, a low growl escaping his chest. She jerked in the man’s grip, as if Jonah had made the sound next to her ear.
Without another second’s hesitation, he strode toward the staircase.
…
Caroline sat immobile in her seat. She could hear Chris, the source she’d come here to meet, asking her if she was all right, but beyond a quick nod, she couldn’t find the wherewithal to communicate. Because she was the furthest thing from all right. So many times this week, she’d imagined seeing Jonah in a setting just like this. The market. A movie theater. The gym. Wondering if they’d ever cross paths again and imagining what it would be like. She’d never expected it to be so soon. Nor did she anticipate the immediate reaction she would have upon seeing him.