‘Jesus,’ Harrison sighs, looking like he’s just aged ten years.

  Emmy strokes her hand up my back, rubbing at the tense muscles across my shoulders, and I slide her a grateful smile. Whatever we find, I know she’s going to be the rock that gets me through and keeps me sane.

  Across the table, Harrison takes another heavy sip of his wine, then sets the glass down, his attention focused on the way he’s twirling the stem with his fingers. ‘It might not be what you want to hear, Jase, but I’m happy that bastard isn’t your father.’

  ‘Yeah, me too. I just wish I knew the real story.’

  He lifts his bleak gaze to mine, and quietly says, ‘So do I.’

  He moves to his feet then, going out on the balcony to smoke his beloved cigarettes, and I help Emmy clear the table, then put on a pot of decaf. When J.J. comes back inside, we gather on the sofas in the sitting room with our steaming mugs of coffee, and settle into some easier conversation.

  As Harrison listens with genuine interest to Emmy telling him her ideas for possible articles she can write for Luxe, the premier art magazine that is publishing her first piece – one on Harrison himself – I can’t help thinking about the fact that the only reason he’s even here is because of her. Because she had the strength and determination to stand up to him and tell him he was wrong about me. No one, in my entire life, has ever championed me the way that Emmy does, or been so completely on my side, and I fucking love that about her. But the truth is that I worship every single part of her. Her courage and her kindness. Her clever mind and her laugh and her smile. Hell, I even love the way she calls me on my shit and is never afraid to stand up to me. I’m fucking gone for her. Forever. And if I can manage to get my ring on her finger one day, it’ll be the most important, significant accomplishment of my entire life.

  I know she’s still upset about the Chloe article. With Harrison here, we haven’t had a chance to discuss it, and I’m not looking forward to the conversation. But I’ll tell her whatever she wants to know, because I’ve learned my lesson.

  I just wish my mother and Hart had been able to reach a point where they were honest with one another as well, because there’s something about their history that doesn’t sit right with me.

  And I hate that I might never know what it is.

  EMMY

  I’m lying in bed with my back to him, the room still lit with a soft, golden glow from the lamp on his bedside table, when Jase’s deep voice reaches out to me, making me shiver with awareness at the same time I’m tensing with dread. ‘Are we going to talk about it?’

  A brittle laugh falls from my lips before I can choke it back. ‘Sure. What do you want to confess?’

  ‘Honestly, Em, there’s nothing to confess. I’ve always been careful, and I have never been with anyone without using latex. Ever, except for you. And things ended between Chloe and me last October. If she is pregnant, there’s no way in hell that it’s mine.’

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘Okay?’ he repeats, as if he can’t believe what he’s heard.

  ‘Yeah, okay,’ I tell him, rolling over to face him. To stare into his dark, beautiful eyes, his masculine scent filling my head as I pull in a deep breath.

  For the past three weeks, I’ve missed Jase Beckett to the point it’d been a physical pain. A hollow, churning ache that I carried with me every second of the day, not even my dreams giving me a moment’s peace. No, that’s when I would relive every breathtaking moment that I’d spent in his arms. Every exquisite touch and taste. Every husky, provocative word that fell roughly from his lips.

  And now I’m here, lying beside him, and I’m not going to waste this precious gift on Caroline’s bizarre hatred. The more I think about it, the more I think maybe she is having some kind of mental breakdown. But sane or not, I’m not letting the bitch get between me and the man I love.

  Pressing my hand against the center of Jase’s chest, right over the heavy pounding of his heart, I give him a little smile as I say, ‘Caroline only has the power we give her, Jase. And I’m not going to let her lies pick and nip at us, until we bicker more than we laugh and make love. You can’t change your past any more than I can change mine, and we shouldn’t have to. The only thing that matters is where we go from here.’

  Those brilliant blue eyes of his start to gleam, the sin-drenched smile on his lips so freaking sexy it makes me melt for him. ‘Damn, Emmy. Have I ever mentioned how fucking awesome you are?’

  With a playful smirk, I say, ‘It might have come up earlier today.’

  He slips his warm hand up under the hem of my tank top, stroking my skin with the callused pad of his thumb. ‘Well, I’m gonna say it again. Or I could use Tyler’s colorful vernacular and tell you that you’re the fucking bomb.’

  ‘Wow, look at the Brit boy trying out surfer speak,’ I laugh. ‘Ty’s gonna love it when you do that in front of him.’

  Jase’s grin slides into a pained grimace. ‘Speaking of Tyler, exactly how much does the guy hate me now?’

  I don’t quite manage to stifle my wince, given how concerned Tyler had sounded when I spoke to him on the phone earlier. ‘Well, if we’re talking about a scale that goes from one to ten, then you’re probably still at about a twenty-five.’

  ‘Yay me,’ he says drily, and despite how he’s trying to make light of it, I can tell that he’s bummed. He and Tyler had finally started to connect the night of the accident, only to have it all go to shit.

  ‘He’s wary,’ I say, stroking my fingertips over his rugged jaw, ‘but only because he loves me and doesn’t want to see me get hurt again.’

  ‘You mean for a third time,’ he mutters with another frown. ‘Fuck, I’m surprised he didn’t come with you so he could kick my arse.’

  ‘Oh, he wanted to,’ I admit with a wry smile. ‘But I told him this was something I had to do on my own. And he’ll come around. I have no doubt that the two of you will be best buds one day.’

  And it’s true. I just don’t know if that will be because we’re living there, or if it will happen when Tyler’s visiting with us in London. Jase and I never did get around to the big ‘where are we going to live’ discussion. And while I know what my heart is telling me is the right choice at this point in our lives, I’m too worn out to hash it out with him tonight.

  ‘By the way,’ he murmurs, stroking his hand lower, over the curve of my hip, ‘in the spirit of full disclosure, there’s something else you should know.’

  ‘Oh, God. What?’ I gasp, deciding to tease him, even though I’m a bit nervous about what he’s going to tell me. ‘Do you have a secret love child with Madonna? One of the royals? Or is it Angelina?’

  He snorts under his breath. ‘Funny, but no. There are absolutely no little Jase Becketts, or whatever the hell my last name should be, running around in the world.’

  I wince a bit for him when he says the part about his name, and ask, ‘Then what did you want to tell me?’

  ‘When you went to call Tyler before the food got here, I told Harrison that Luxe loved your article and he asked to read it. So I pulled it up on my phone for him, since I still have the file that you emailed me.’

  ‘You didn’t!’

  He gives me a smug smile. ‘Oh, but I did.’

  ‘Ohmygod,’ I groan, covering my eyes with my hand, as if that’ll help me deal. ‘What did he say? I can’t believe he didn’t tell me when I was gabbing on about my ideas for my next article.’

  ‘What do you think he said?’ he asks, pulling my hand away from my face and pressing a smiling kiss to my palm.

  ‘Um, probably something about me being a nosy American who should mind her own damn business?’

  His chest shakes with one of his deep, deliciously sexy laughs. ‘That would’ve been pretty funny,’ he drawls, earning him a smack on the shoulder from my palm, ‘but no, baby. He thought it was brilliant.’

  I blink at him, certain I must have heard him wrong. ‘Seriously?’

  His dark eyes gleam with pride, and I feel my chest go warm with emotion as he tells me, ‘Of course he did. And I’ve already told you the same thing. You think I was just buttering you up with compliments so you’d let me in your pants?’

  ‘Well,’ I laugh, all breathless with excitement, ‘my pants are a pretty awesome place to be.’

  ‘You don’t have to tell me that,’ he says with a playful growl. ‘Though I prefer you in no pants at all.’

  He strips my jammies off, deliberately tickling me in the process, and I’m still laughing when he knees my legs apart and starts to push inside me. But then the size and the heat of his beautiful cock make my breath catch, and I have to bite my lower lip to keep from crying out – before I look up into his smoldering eyes, and say, ‘I had no idea, when I first met you, that you would be so perfect for me, Mr Beckett.’

  ‘Miss Reed,’ he murmurs, forcing that last hard, thick inch into me, ‘I didn’t even know what perfect was until I met you.’

  The exchange makes me smile, because it’s so similar to ones we’ve had in the past. But then my smile is stolen by a low moan as Jase reaches down and hooks his hand behind my knee, lifting my leg higher, and his next thrust takes him so deep that I have to bite my freaking lip again.

  ‘You okay?’ he asks, watching me as he carefully pulls back, searching my face for any signs that the wound in my side is causing me pain.

  ‘You ask me that again,’ I warn, stroking my hands down the powerful muscles in his sleek back, ‘and I’m going to bite you. Hard.’

  He laughs as he leans down and rubs his nose against mine. ‘Promises, promises, baby.’

  I pinch his bottom, making him jerk inside me. ‘Less talking, Mr Beckett. More fucking.’

  ‘Whatever my woman wants,’ he growls, nipping my bottom lip, ‘she gets.’

  And then he gives it to me. God, does he ever.

  I’m so freaking happy to have this time with him, to have him again – when God only knows what tomorrow’s going to bring – that tears blur my vision. But I quickly blink them away, needing his handsome face in sharp focus as he takes me closer and closer to the edge. He braces himself over me, using his muscular thighs and sculpted abs to drive himself into me with deep, hammering thrusts, like he’s trying to forge a connection that will last even after he’s filled me up, and when I start to come for him the pleasure’s so intense it feels like I’m shattering into a million different pieces, everything dark and raw and blissful as I get carried away under the thrashing waves. But he comes down over me, his strong arms holding me together, and I love how every muscle in his magnificent body tenses as he finds his own release. Love how the guttural sound that he breathes into my ear, as he pumps into me, makes the pulses in my body go on and on and on.

  When our hearts have slowed and we’re finally able to catch our breath, he pulls out as carefully as he always does, then kneels there between my thighs, pushing them a bit wider as he stares down at my still softly pulsing pussy.

  ‘I think you’re gorgeous, sweetheart, no matter what you’re dressed in, or how you’ve done your hair, or whether you’re wearing make-up or no make-up. But this is my all-time favorite right here,’ he says in a low voice, trailing the blunt tip of his index finger over my pink, drenched vulva as his heavy-lidded gaze slides over me. ‘When you’re soft and relaxed, legs open and nipples tight, lips puffy from how hard and deep I’ve kissed you, and this pink little part of you is so swollen and drenched with my cum. When you’re so full of me that it’s spilling out of you. God, I fucking love that.’

  ‘I love it too,’ I breathe. ‘It makes me feel close to you.’

  ‘Speaking of being close,’ he murmurs, setting one of his big hands on my belly and giving it a gentle squeeze, ‘I can’t wait to put a kid in here.’

  I blink up at him, thinking I must have heard him wrong. ‘What?’

  ‘Don’t you want children?’ he asks, staring down at me with a sexy, devastating smile, as if he knows damn well just how far he’s thrown me.

  ‘Um, sure. I mean, I’ve never really thought about it.’ Because I never thought I’d find someone who I wanted to share my life with.

  ‘Well, think about it now,’ he says in a husky rumble, coming back down over me and rubbing his thumb over my bottom lip, his dark eyes molten and serious. ‘Because I want to build a family with you, Em. I’m not talking right away, since I want us to have time where it’s just the two of us. But I’m making plans in my head.’

  ‘Baby plans?’ I ask, arching one of my eyebrows at him.

  ‘Marriage plans. Baby plans. I want it all with you, Emmy.’

  My heart is beating so hard and fast that I feel like it might burst, and I have to swallow twice before I manage to say, ‘It seems to me that there are some, um, crucial questions that need to be asked before you start running away with things, Mr Beckett.’

  He smirks like the cocky beast that he is, already knowing what my answer will be when he eventually asks that question. The one that will lead to us becoming man and wife.

  ‘Don’t worry about my planning skills, Miss Reed. I promise I’ve got it covered.’

  I smile as I curl my hand around the back of his neck, pulling him down for another blistering kiss, since I’ve got plans of my own for us.

  And they’re some of the best I’ve ever had.

  Chapter Five

  JASE

  When I first open my eyes, I have no idea what’s woken me up. Rolling over, I look at the illuminated clock on the bedside table and see that it reads two-thirty a.m. I start to roll back towards Emmy, thinking we can take advantage of the moment with some middle of the night fucking – since we still have three weeks of lost time together to make up for – when I hear it again. Another faint creak of sound, like someone carefully stepping on a floorboard, and I swear it came from the sitting room.

  Shit! There’s always a chance that it’s J.J. and he’s stumbling around in the dark for a middle of the night snack, but the tension in my gut tells me this is different, and that someone has broken into the flat. I reach over to gently wake Emmy, putting my fingers to her lips to quiet her when she starts to ask what’s wrong. There’s just enough moonlight coming in through the window for her to see me shake my head, and her eyes go wide with fear when she takes in the expression on my face. I point at the bed, silently telling her to stay right here, then soundlessly slide back the duvet and move to my feet. I snag the jeans I’d taken off earlier, sliding them on, and then grab one of the thick metal candlesticks that sit on either end of the chest. It’s not much of a weapon if I end up facing down a loaded gun, but it’s all that’s available, and I feel like a tool for not thinking to at least keep a knife or a bat with me.

  As I creep into the hallway, my heart is pounding like a bloody drum, but it’s not from fear. No, I’m too damn furious to be worried about what I’m about to face.

  And I’m calling myself every name in the book for not packing Emmy’s beautiful little arse up and sending her back to San Diego until this shit is over. I caved because I’d missed her, and I needed her, but if anything happens to her because of me I’ll never survive it. It’ll fucking destroy me.

  When I reach the end of the hallway, I peek around the wall of the sitting room and spot a tall, well-built guy dressed all in black moving around the edge of the room, and he’s gripping a long, serrated knife in his right hand. He’s shaking with nerves, which means it’s unlikely that he’s a professional killer. No, this is someone giving it a shot for the first time, and I try to place him, thinking there’s something about him that seems familiar. And then he walks past the window, the moonlight washing across his face, and I know why that is.

  He’s my fucking cousin!

  Cameron Beckett has somehow broken into the flat in the middle of the night, armed with a deadly weapon, and I have a strong feeling he’s not here for a friendly family discussion.

  How the hell did the bastard get past security? They’re meant to be watching all entrances to the building, as well as monitoring any suspicious behavior, and I’m paying them a bloody fortune for it. But something has seriously gone wrong with their system, and I tighten my grip on the candlestick, trying to decide when and how I should strike.

  He comes around the back of the nearest sofa, where Emmy’s jacket is lying over the cushions, and I grit my teeth as he runs the back of his knuckles over the denim like he’s stroking her skin. It makes my blood go cold, and I must not choke back my growl as well as I’d thought because he suddenly gives a low laugh and says, ‘I know you’re there, Jase.’

  Since my cover is blown, I step further into the room, wanting to give myself some space to move around in case he comes at me. He counters my move, until he’s standing with his back to the hallway, and it takes every ounce of self-control I possess not to flinch when I spot Emmy peeking around the edge of the hallway wall, Harrison’s worried face just above hers. Christ! They’re like something out of some madcap comedy, both sharp eyed and plotting a way to attack, and while I feel the need to keep an eye on them, because God only knows what they’re about to do, I’m facing down a prick with a knife, so I can’t. Plus, I don’t want to clue Cameron into the fact that they’re lurking in the hallway. If he’s been watching the building, then he knows they’re in the flat with me. But I’d rather him think they’re hiding in the bedrooms, than about to sneak up behind him.

  And then, as if she’s just heard the words in my head, Emmy starts tiptoeing into the room, wearing nothing but the tiny set of pajama shorts and top that I’d stripped off her earlier, her golden hair all curly and wild, Harrison just behind her with the other candlestick in his hand, wearing plaid pajamas, ready to offer his assistance. She’s so impossibly gorgeous, but clearly stark barking mad, because she’s got the wrought-iron lamp from my bedside table clutched in her hands.