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“You can’t tell me who I can see or who I can’t. But I have no reason to contact Jim Brown for anything. I already have a house. Remember?” He ignored her obvious sarcasm and cupped her face with his hands. They were calloused and hard, yet warm and gentle.

“That man is not to be trusted.” A muscle ticked just under Jonah’s right eye. “Stay away from him.”

Totally exasperated, she reached up and pulled him closer. “I repeat. I have no reason to contact Jim Brown for anything else. He was my realtor. Nothing more. If I want a recommendation for any work around this place, electrical or otherwise, I’ll ask Shamus.”

Jonah let out a sigh that ruffled her hair. She’d tied her hair back earlier today, but tendrils had escaped from the holder and were now curling wildly around her face.

“Shamus, huh?” His fingers slowly caressed her face as they slid down to her neck.

He was very careful not to let them touch her bruises.

“Yup. He’s my best friend’s husband, plus it’s his business to know who to recommend. The man is a contractor after all.” She let her fingers slip through his hair.

“And he did recommend you.”

A slow smile crossed Jonah’s face. “He did, didn’t he?” Leaning down, Jonah brushed his lips over hers. He didn’t stop there, but kissed her cheeks, her nose, her forehead and chin. “How are you feeling?”

He’d asked her this question at various times today, but this time she had a feeling he was asking for a very different reason. For a man she hadn’t known long, she was quickly becoming attuned to his moods. She knew he disliked his ex-brother-in-law, but that was to be expected. What she hadn’t expected was the edge of something darker and deeper.

There was more to his dislike than just a simple divorce, but now wasn’t the time to ask.

With Jim gone, Amanda sensed the change in Jonah—mentally and physically. She felt the hardness of his erection as he crowded closer to her, felt his growing need for her.

She knew it was because he wanted her, but it was partly a guy thing too. His need to establish his connection to her. It was primitive and raw, and damn if it didn’t turn her on.

Her hands fell to his shoulders and her fingers curled into the material of his shirt.

She could feel the thick muscles bunching beneath her palms. He was so strong and so warm. “I was just about to make supper.” Her voice had an almost breathless quality about it.

“Supper can wait.” He kissed the side of her neck, nibbled at the lobe of her ear.

“I’m hungry for you.” He let his hand roam down her body, following the curve of her waist and hip. Curling his hand behind her right thigh, he pulled it up around his waist.

The action brought her mound into direct contact with his erection. She moaned, unable to help herself. “Supper can wait,” she agreed. Supper could definitely wait, but she couldn’t. She wanted Jonah. No, she needed him. Needed him to fill the empty space inside her, to warm her from the inside out, to make her feel safe and wanted and sexy.

Jonah traced his tongue over the whorl of her ear before taking the lobe between his teeth and gently tugging. Her pulse quickened and her breathing got shallower. “Jonah,”

she gasped and pulled him closer.

He buried his face in the curve of her shoulder and took a deep breath. It made her feel better to know that he was as affected as she was by the sexual heat between them.

He raised his head. “Are you sure? I don’t want to hurt you, Amanda. But be sure. If I start, I’m not certain I can stop.”

She swallowed hard. Her throat was still tender, but other than that she felt perfectly fine. Better than fine. She was on fire for Jonah and only he could give her what she needed.

“I’m sure.”

Chapter Nine

Jonah took a deep breath to try to slow the pounding of his heart. He had to get control of himself. The last thing he wanted to do was to hurt Amanda.

His blood had gone cold when he’d heard her talking to Jim. His sister’s ex was a bastard through and through. The type of guy with a public persona of being Mr. Nice, but in private was anything but. His sister would bear the mental, if not the physical, scars of her marriage forever, and he didn’t want Jim anywhere near his sister or his woman.

His woman? Where the hell had that come from? He gave himself a mental shake.

Amanda and he were having an affair. Nothing more. It was only common decency that made him warn her about getting chummy with Jim.

That didn’t explain the unreasonable anger and possessiveness that had filled him when he’d heard the two of them talking. He’d planned to wait a day or two until Amanda was totally over the trauma of her attack before he pushed the physical side of their relationship, but Jim’s unexpected visit had changed everything. Jonah felt the need to claim Amanda, mark her as his, so she and everyone around them knew that she belonged to him.

It was primitive, but he didn’t care. He was well aware of how thin the veneer of civilization actually was. He’d seen it stripped away from men and women around the world, until all that remained was the human animal with basic needs. And right now, he needed Amanda.

She was staring up at him, her green eyes becoming deep pools of need. Yeah, she wanted him all right. He could feel the heat from her mound through all the layers of clothing they both wore. “I’ll be gentle.” He needed her to know that he would never hurt her, that she could trust him. That was important to him.

“I know.” Her smile was filled with such trust that it made his chest hurt.

He pushed away from her and nodded. There was no going back. For either of them.

Sliding one arm around her shoulders and another around her thighs, he lifted her. He liked the weight of her in his arms, the feel of her pressed against his body. She slid her arms around his neck, holding tight as he climbed the stairs to her bedroom. Her head rested on his shoulder and her breath tickled his neck.

Jonah stopped by the side of the bed and looked around the room. “You were busy.”

The boxes and suitcases were gone, and a rug had been placed by the side of the bed.

Several pictures were propped against the wall, waiting to be hung, but the room looked more like a bedroom now instead of a haphazard pile of boxes and bags.

“It’s not anywhere near finished. I still have lots to do.” Her fingers played with the ends of his hair, teasing the back of his neck.

He released the arm holding her thighs and let her legs drop until she was standing by the bed. The evening light was muted, but it was more than enough for him to see her without turning on the lights. He didn’t want to do anything that might jolt her out of her present mood.

Stepping back, he reached for her top, bunching the fabric in his hands. He slowly skimmed it upward, giving her time to object. She raised her hands over her head as he pulled the garment up and off. He made a low sound in the back of his throat.

The bra she was wearing was a simple off-white with a touch of lace. The cups molded to her breasts, pushing them slightly upward. He traced his finger over the edge of one cup and paused in the center before sloping up the other side. Her skin was softer than the satiny bra, more delicate.

He felt her shiver beneath his touch.

Cupping her breasts in his hands, he leaned down, seized one of her swollen nipples through the satin and suckled. She gasped, her hands captured his head and pulled him closer. Her fingers tugged on his hair and her nails dug into his scalp, telling him just how much his actions were affecting her, arousing her.

He pulled back and admired his handwork. The cup of her bra was damp and showcased her taut nipple to perfection. He bent down and did the same thing on the other side.