Page 31 of Jonathan

He had just wrenched the doors open when he saw his mother standing there.

“I don’t have time.”

“You will make the time.” There was a determined look on her lovely face. “You’re not going down there to make a fool of yourself, Jonathan Andre McCarthy. I will not let you. You’re a respectable man in this community and there are children present. That woman…”

“Is my woman. She told me you paid her a visit. What the hell were you thinking?”

She drew herself up to her full height, shoulders squared. “I will not have you talking to me like that. I am still your mother. And being your mother, I am trying to shield you from making a fool of yourself again.”

His anger dissipated and he felt ashamed at his outburst. “Look, I know you have my best interests at heart and want to prevent me from getting hurt. But I am an adult, and I know what I am doing.” He lifted his hands and dropped them to his sides. “I am in love with her. It’s not like before.”

Lifting a hand, he rubbed the back of his neck. “I am going down there to take her away from here and have a conversation. It’s that simple. She said something to piss me off and…,” he blew out a breath. “I am just going to set her straight.”

“You cannot leave.”

“Maybe we will stay, maybe not. I am sorry for blowing up. I’ll be fine. Please excuse me.”

She turned aside to allow him to get by her.

And stood there watching him descend the stairs. She pressed her hand to her chest as she continue to watch him. He was her damn baby.

He was thirty-five years old and ran a multi-billion-dollar ranch, but he was still her baby, her only child and she wanted to protect him. The woman was stunning and clearly had him wrapped around her finger. God help him, she mused wearily.

*****

“Back off.” Without waiting for the cowboy to react, he took Kamilah’s arm and pulled her away.

“Don’t!” He warned tersely when she opened her mouth. “I am pissed as hell with you right now, so you don’t want to make it worse.” Clamping his hands around her waist, he started to move in time to the music. His expression was grim, hisfingers around her waist, tense. “You were making a spectacle of yourself.”

“It’s called dancing…” Her voice petered off at the fierce look he threw her. “You’re very handsome when you’re angry.” She rolled her eyes as he continued to glare at her. Using something else, she slid her hands over his chest and around his neck, pressing herself even closer to him. “What are you doing?” He gritted.

“What does it feel like?” She asked airily. “Trying to get you to lighten up.”

“Stop!” He hissed.

“Make me.” She challenged. Moving her hand down, she eased the two buttons open and reached into the shirt.

“We’re in the middle of the dance floor and people are watching…” His fingers dug into her back as she trailed a finger down his throat.

“Damn you.” He whispered and was about to seize her lips when he noticed the music had stopped and they were the object of every eyes.

“Not here.” His voice was strained.

“Take me home.” She whispered huskily, eyes glowing. His heart took a slow dive, and all the anger drained out of him. With a nod, he took her hand and led her off the floor.

*****

“You ruined another shirt.”

“It seems to be a habit.” He was still breathing hard. They had left the ranch and practically floored the accelerator of her vehicle to get to the cabin. They had barely got through the door, when he started tearing off her clothes. Her hands had been busy as well and his buttons were all gone.

She was sprawled on his chest, one foot snug between his strong thighs.

“Should you have left so early?”

“I can do whatever the hell I please.” He has his arms wrapped securely around her waist and figured there was no place he would rather be.

“Aren’t you the host?”

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