He brought her fingers up to his lips and bit down on the ends. His mouth was hot and moist and his teeth strong, although the bite was gentle and sent little tingles of arousal teasing along her thighs and belly. “I think you don’t want to tell me about your parents. Did you have a happy childhood?” He turned his head to look at her. “I just assumed that you did because you’re such a happy person.”

She found herself smiling at him. “I did. My parents were very loving. We traveled a lot. My father had a difficult time settling down and we moved often. He was always restless. I’d come home from a friend’s house and we’d be packed up with everything already in the car. I rarely had time to say good-bye. We’d just leave.”

“That must have been difficult.”

“I wanted a home, you know, the traditional house with a yard like everyone else, and a regular school . . .”

“You didn’t attend school?”

Her gaze jumped to his face. His voice had been carefully neutral and he was looking at her fingers, absently bringing them to his mouth, nipping at the tips. “I’m very well educated, thank you,” she said, frowning, wary now.

Her frown was wasted on him. He bit at the ends of her fingers, his teeth scraping back and forth. The sensation was intensely seductive, sending lightning lashing through her bloodstream. Her breasts ached. It didn’t help that she was ready for bed, without a bra, and the thin material of her pajama top rubbed against her nipples as they hardened into tight peaks. The look on his face was sensual but remote, as if sensuality was so inherent in his character that even when he wasn’t paying attention, women couldn’t help but feel his sexual heat.

He suddenly turned his head to look at her and her heart quickened, pounding hard, her breath catching in her lungs. His golden eyes held possession, mesmerizing her, robbing her of speech. Her mouth opened, but absolutely nothing came out.

“I know you’re educated. I just always imagined you in school with other kids. I had private tutors. I always wondered what it was like to go to a school with other children.”

Emma pressed her lips together, feeling them tingle. He was just so focused when he looked at her, so completely concentrated on her, that she felt threatened in some ways and completely exhilarated in others. “So did I,” she managed to get out.

“Emma.” His voice went soft, melting her. “You’re so tense. Something happened tonight and I want to know what it is.”

His thigh rubbed against hers as he turned onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow, his body curling around hers protectively. He was closer to her than ever, so close she could exchange breath with him. He was the most beautiful man she’d ever encountered, in a raw, sexual way. Each time he moved, ropes of muscles rippled and slid beneath his skin, a powerful, fluid, very sensual movement that heated her blood no matter how hard she tried not to notice.

His palm cupped the side of her face, his thumb sliding gently over her cheek to the corner of her mouth. “Honey, I swear to you, I had every intention of being home tonight. Something came up that was unavoidable. I’ll make it up to the kids. I’m trying to be better about being involved with them. Believe me, I know I leave them with you more than I should.” He was stabbing in the dark, trying to get her to open up. He wished it was just the party she was upset about. He could make up for that. But no, there was something far deeper, and he had a bad feeling about the direction her thoughts were taking her.

Emma closed her eyes to block out the sight of him, but her other senses immediately became heightened. Liquid heat rushed, dampening between her legs, her blood pounding with need. She had always secretly condemned Jake for his sexual exploits with women. He never hid the fact that women found him attractive. She knew they visited him at his office in the city and she knew why. Maybe all along she’d been jealous and had never identified her own attraction to him. But it was horrible to feel like one of those women.

She didn’t want to be one more woman standing in line, vying for his attention, begging to be noticed, discarded the moment she serviced his needs. How could she tell him that she couldn’t have him in her bed anymore because all she thought about was climbing on top of him? Why did everything he do seem so sexual right now, when he’d been doing the same exact thing for the past two years and she’d never once reacted? She must have been the one who had changed. A fresh wave of tears flooded her eyes.

“That’s it,” Jake snapped, his hands framing her face, thumbs under her chin, brushing seductively. He bent his head to hers and stole her breath. “You have to stop. Do you hear me, Emma? You have to stop or I’m going to do something neither of us will ever be able to take back.”

She pressed her forehead to his. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Jake, but I hate it. I feel like I’m climbing out of my skin.”

He stroked his hand down her face. “You’ve gone through a lot in two years. Losing a husband, bed rest, taking care of a baby, having another one, taking over the reins of this house—which, if I haven’t told you, you’ve done an amazing job with. I think you’re entitled to a meltdown. You’ve only left the ranch to do a little shopping, and even then, most things are delivered. You never take time off for yourself.”

Mothers didn’t take time off. She didn’t think of herself as the housekeeper; she was Kyle’s and Andraya’s mother. But this wasn’t really her home. Kyle wasn’t her son. She had a job. It was a job. “We’ve never talked about time off.” Is that how he saw what she did? A job?