Owned By Fate (11 page)

Chapter Twelve

Jonah leaned back in his leather armchair, security monitors glowing around him. Ever since he’d been forced to replace Serve’s manager thanks to the man’s lapse in judgment in allowing the messenger to gain access to his apartment vestibule, he’d been working around the clock. Part of him wondered if his lack of contact with Caroline since their afternoon in the limousine had spurred his debatably drastic action and decided, yes, it probably had. Honestly, if Caroline hadn’t been there, Jonah didn’t think he would have been quite so angry. She’d been placed at risk due to his manager’s actions. He’d been incapable of letting it go unaddressed.

In the absence of his manager, he’d decided to promote from within, giving one of his longest-standing employees a temporary promotion, but he didn’t feel comfortable with a new person at the helm just yet. Everything appeared to be running smoothly in the club tonight, but where would he go if he left the room? The empty apartment upstairs or the one in Brooklyn?

No matter where he went, he would think of Caroline. Every time he closed his eyes, she was there. Standing in his bedroom naked, save for a skimpy pair of red panties. Bending forward to present him with her ass, that lacy black thong hiding all her secrets. God, something about the way she wore panties, riding low on her hipbones, the material fitting snugly over her pussy, leaving no mystery as to what was beneath…it was enough to move a man to tears. On the heels of that image came her unforgettable ass in the air, begging for a slap from his paddle as she called him
Master
. Hell, picturing her fully clothed, simply talking to him while she fiddled with her glasses, made him hard.

The sexy, elusive, mouthy intellectual had done a fucking number on him.

Jonah sat forward as a familiar blonde moved across the main monitor and sat down at the downstairs bar, effectively interrupting his licentious thoughts. It took him no time at all to place her. She’d been with Caroline that first night at the club. He made a sound of disgust when he realized he’d been eagerly scanning behind her for any sign of Caroline.
Where’s your pride, man?

His gaze narrowed as she ordered a drink, downed it in one shot, and ordered another immediately. Having been fascinated by Caroline that first night, he hadn’t paid the blonde much attention, but it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out the girl was on a mission to get plastered. Having been there in the past, he recognized the signs. Every so often, she would turn in her seat as if looking for somebody, shoulders slumping in disappointment when she presumably didn’t find him. As far as he knew, she hadn’t submitted any paperwork to be allowed upstairs. So what was she doing here?

Suddenly, she jolted off her stool, swayed on her feet, and began stumbling her way through the crowd, attempting to keep her chin raised resolutely. Jonah knew without a doubt she was headed for the elevator to bring her upstairs. It occurred to him that Caroline might have confided in her friend about their relationship and felt a wave of satisfaction over the possibility. Did the blonde think she could drop Caroline’s name and get a free pass upstairs? Not likely. She was visibly drunk. Not to mention, something about her current demeanor didn’t sit right.

Coming to a quick decision, Jonah grabbed the phone and called down to one of his security guards. “Hey. There’s a blonde headed your way. She’s wearing bright yellow. Can’t miss her.” He waited for the grunt of confirmation. “Keep her there. I’ll be right down.”

Jonah reached for his phone to make a second call then, slightly annoyed by the anticipation slithering through his gut. Just the idea of hearing her husky voice in his ear made him growl a little in the semi-darkness. Would the memories of how she’d submitted to him not once but twice be obvious in her voice, or would she be a good enough liar to hide it?

She answered on the fourth ring. “Hello?”

Hiding it, huh? Not if he could help it. “Sweetheart. It’s been days.”

Her breath hitched at his tone, just audibly enough for him to hear. “Why are you calling? It’s late.”

“It’s nine thirty.”

Caroline grumbled. “Not enough people subscribe to the nine o’clock cutoff anymore.”

Jonah smiled against the phone, but it faded fast. “Did I catch you in the middle of something?”

“Maybe.”

“Caroline,” he warned, in a tone he knew she would correctly interpret. One he wished to use on her a hell of a lot more.

A long pause ensued before her sigh echoed through the phone. “I’m watching
Iron Chef
.”

Some of the tension drained from his body, but most of it stayed. The picture she’d unwittingly painted of her stretched out on a couch in pajamas made him wish like hell they were in the same room. “What’s today’s secret ingredient?”

“Mangos,” she answered, clearly not pleased. “Why are you calling, Jonah? I’m not agreeing to any more sightseeing trips around the city.”

His jaw tightened at her brisk dismissal. The fact that she clearly wanted nothing to do with him. God, if she were standing in front of him, he would prove her ten kinds of wrong. “Be that as it may, you might want to get down here. Your friend, the one who accompanied you the first night, is here. She’s had a lot to drink and—”

“
What
? Eliza?”

“I don’t know her name—”

He could hear her running. “Th-the blond Alexis Bledel look-alike.”

“—nor do I know who that is.” He laughed under his breath. “What is with you and matching people up with celebrities?”

A door slammed. “I don’t know. Just a nervous habit or something.”

“Who am I?” Jonah asked curiously, enjoying the fact that in her distracted state, she wasn’t weighing and measuring every word that came out of her mouth.

“Um…you? You stumped me for while.”

“But?”

“A young Marlon Brando. Circa
On the Waterfront
.”

Jonah’s lips edged into a smile. In the background, he could hear the unmistakable sounds of New York City traffic.

“I’m getting into a cab now. Be there in a few.”

“Be safe.”

“Hmm.” She called out Serve’s location to the cab driver. “And Jonah? Thank you.”

He kept the phone to his ear a full minute after she’d hung up.

…

A security guard met Caroline outside of Serve and led her through the writhing bodies on the dance floor to Jonah’s private elevator. She rode it alone, cringing at how her ancient gray T-shirt and faded black leggings looked in the harsh fluorescent light. In her haste to leave the apartment, she hadn’t bothered to change, nor had she paid attention to which footwear she’d jammed her feet into.

“Nice galoshes, idiot,” she muttered to herself. “Expecting rain?”

Her worry for Eliza had eclipsed any nervousness about seeing Jonah again, but as the elevator climbed higher, she couldn’t calm her racing pulse. Thoughts of him had plagued her relentlessly since the last time she’d seen him. Hot, naughty, indecent thoughts that made her clothes feel restricting, made the water from her shower feel sensual instead of functional. When he’d called earlier, she almost hadn’t answered. Afraid one word from him would send her running to Serve for more of what he could do. In a way, she’d been right, but she’d never expected the reason for his call.

Caroline started as the elevator door slid open to reveal Jonah. To the right of his apartment door, he leaned against the wall, arms crossed, eyes trained on her. His white shirt had been rolled up to his elbows, a day’s growth of beard on his chin. He was the embodiment of a hungry male. Her thighs felt like they were being squeezed lightly in that ticklish spot just above the knee. And that almost giddily aroused feeling spread up her legs to her tummy, where it whipped into a tight whirlpool of need.

“Hi.”

Jonah didn’t answer, simply opened his apartment door and indicated that she should precede him inside. He stood so close that Caroline was forced to brush against him as she passed, a low rumble from his throat nearly causing her to combust.
Holy shit
was her most prevalent thought. Her attraction to him before they’d had sex paled in comparison to this overwhelming impulse to wrap her legs around him and ride him for everything she was worth. When she made the mistake of looking him in the eye, Jonah made a hungry noise, raking her from head to toe with a blistering glance.

“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?”

She swallowed hard, trying to block the multitude of sensations rushing to the apex of her thighs.
Move your hand higher. Don’t move your hand higher.
His closeness jumbled her thoughts, but one major one stood out.
He was still unsatisfied after our last time together. He was hard and aching and he’s here now. Right here.
“Like I said. I’ve been fine.”

“That so?” He dropped a hand to the fly of his pants, gripping his erection without a hint of shame. “I haven’t been fine in days. Your punishment has ended up being one for me, as well.”

“What do you want me to do about it?” Caroline returned on a breath before she realized how loaded that question sounded. But besides a small eyebrow raise, Jonah didn’t call her on it.

Instead, his thumb came up to trace her bottom lip, not at all gently. “Caroline Preston.” He made her name sound like a chastisement. “The thought of this outrageously sexy mouth has caused me more than a few restless nights lately.”