"Jake, with your name on the birth certificate, she's safe for the time being."

Jake's voice went low, threatening. "I want it filed today," he repeated, "whatever it costs. And make certain the ruling is sealed and doesn't become a media event. I mean that, John. You make certain anyone seeing those papers understands there will be severe repercussions if it comes out that I'm not her biological father." He looked over his shoulder, pinning Stillman with a hard gaze. "I'll make it my business to destroy them if they fuck this up. You let them know who they're dealing with."

Stillman stood behind him for a long time, then went to sit down, waiting for the nurse to bring the papers to fill out. He wasn't surprised when an administrator brought the paper immediately. Jake took his time, penning neatly, making certain the child would be safe should anything happen to the mother. Stillman stayed quiet in a corner, feeling as though he couldn't leave Jake alone, although the man so obviously wanted to be.

Jake began to pace like a dangerous animal. He felt dangerous, scattered, out of control-all things that brought the leopard close to the surface. His skin itched and his temper smoldered. He found himself angry with Emma for continuing a pregnancy that could kill her. He was angry with himself for allowing her to get close enough to him to make him feel so lost without her. He didn't honestly know how it had happened when he'd set out to entrap her.

He rested his hand on the window, spreading his fingers wide, his throat raw, his belly in tight, protesting knots.

The glass fogged from his breath and he traced letters in the mist. Let her live. Three words. That was all. A lifetime of nothing and finally Emma. Let her live. He leaned forward and rested his forehead against the pane. He didn't know why he couldn't stop thinking about her, but he knew if she made it through this, he would have to distance himself enough to regain the control between them. Please, God, if you exist, let her live.

He closed his eyes and breathed deep, turning his will to find her. Emma. I won't let you leave me. You can't go. Do you hear me? I'm giving you an order. Hang on to life. The children need you. Kyle. Andraya.

He wouldn't use himself as a bargaining chip. She didn't look at him with that look. The one she reserved for Kyle. Or Andrew. That bastard Andrew, who'd had it all. We have a baby girl. A beautiful little girl. Live for her.

For me. Live for me.

Why couldn't anyone love him? He pulled back and stared at his own reflection. Cold. Unfeeling. The eyes of a predator. Yet right then he wasn't unfeeling. His lungs heaved and his eyes burned. The leopard leapt and roared, clawed for freedom to protect him from too much feeling.

He smelled Emma's blood long before the doctor made his way down the hall to where he waited, his pulse pounding, afraid to move, to turn, to see the look on the man's face.

"Mr. Bannaconni?"

"Just tell me." Jake kept his back to the man, his shoulders stiff, his spine straight.

"Your fiancee is in recovery. We had to give her a great deal of blood, but she made it through the surgery. We've done our best to correct the damage that occurred at the time of the accident, so it's possible she could carry another child sometime in the future, but she has to get through tonight. She's weak, Mr. Bannaconni. I won't lie to you. We aren't out of the woods yet."

Jake swung around, golden eyes glittering, so that the doctor sucked in his breath and stepped back a pace. "I want to see her now. Take me to her."

"She's in recovery. You'll have to wait until she's out and in her room."

Jake's eyes narrowed and he took a step forward. A low, warning growl rumbled in his throat. Stillman leapt up and stepped between the two men.

"I suggest, Doctor, that you take Mr. Bannaconni to his fiancee immediately. If anyone can ensure that she doesn't die, it will be him. He won't be in your way." The lawyer's voice was smooth, but left little to argue with.

The doctor reached behind him and slid his card through the mechanism to disengage the lock. "This way, sir."

Jake followed the man to the recovery room. Emma looked small and lost, her face white, her eyes closed. There was blood in one bag and a clear liquid in another. Brenda Hacker shot him a quick, reassuring smile as she toed a chair in his direction. Jake straddled it up near Emma's head, facing her, and settled in for a long night. He had no intentions of losing Emma at this point, and if sheer will meant anything, she would be staying right with him.

5.

SEVENTEEN MONTHS LATER.

"YOU keep it up, boss man, and we're not going to have any crew left," Drake Donovon said. He leaned forward in the saddle and spat on the ground. "You've always been as mean as a snake, Jake, but now you're getting downright ugly."

"You think I give a damn whether they like me or not?" Jake snarled. "And don't call me 'boss man.' You only do it when you're pissed."

Drake shrugged. "You lose me any more of my crew and I'll be walking myself." His probing gaze slid over Jake, clearly assessing him. "You brought me here to educate you about your heritage, but you don't listen to me." He looked around, his face suddenly etched with something close to sorrow. "I have a hard time breathing here. If I can't be of help to you, I need to go back to the forest where I belong."

"No way, Drake. I need you here." Jake cursed the fact that he'd been so moody, so edgy, everything and everyone around him making him want to fight, to rip and tear at anything. The mood swings didn't seem to let up, not for a moment, and the black temper rode him so hard that he actually felt uncomfortable even in his own skin. He knew he had a cruel side to him, he just hadn't been so aware of it slipping out before he could get control. He despised that part of him, so like his parents, so cutting and cold. He'd sworn he would never be like that, yet here he was, the master of cruelty.

What the hell had Emma said to him the other night while he lay on her bed, his blood pounding with need in his veins. Power corrupts. It had been another night where neither could sleep and they'd engaged in one of their common "we don't know what the hell we're talking about" conversations, but that little phrase stuck in his head. His parents were corrupted by the need for money and power. Was it possible he was just as corrupted? He hated admitting to Emma he had a sense of entitlement.

"I listen to you, Drake," Jake said. Drake Donovon was not a man to be pushed around. Danger lurked just beneath the surface. He was a good man to have on one's side, but would definitely make a bitter, unrelenting enemy. Jake raked his fingers through his hair, wanting to jump out of his skin. If he ever needed anyone in his life right then, it was Drake.

Drake shook his head. He was built along the same lines as Jake, broad shoulders; thick, muscular chest; ropes of muscles along his arms and thighs. An enormously strong man, yet lithe and fluid, moving silently, like water flowing over rock. It wasn't difficult to notice the pronounced limp he had when he moved. When he was still, everything stopped. He became so still he was nearly a part of his surroundings. His blond hair was shaggy and untamed, his eyes a little strange, piercing and focused, a brilliant golden green.

"You need a woman. I told you, you can't go that long and let the tension build up."

"I've had women, sometimes twice in a day. A few times more, damn it. It doesn't do any good. I'm still as hard as a rock and feel meaner than ever. It claws at me day and night until I think I'm going insane. I haven't slept in weeks. I can barely walk half the time, and if a man comes near the house, I want to rip his fucking head off." Not to mention, when he lay beside Emma on her bed, he felt guilty, as though he'd betrayed her. And worse, he wanted to attack her. He was afraid he might actually lose control one day and just roll her under him and bury himself deep and hard, the way he wanted.

Drake blinked, his eyes suddenly narrowing, one eyebrow shooting up. "Near the house?" he echoed. "And what claws at you?"

"I need sex every minute, but when a woman touches me, I end up despising them. My skin crawls and I find myself doing things, saying things . . ." He broke off, his lips tightening. "I'm not very proud of myself. I act like a bastard-and they just come back for more. Then I walk into the house and it starts all over again."

"You have a woman there. Emma."

Drake's voice irritated Jake when he said her name. Smooth. Like velvet. Knots formed in his belly. "What about her?"

"She takes care of your son. Your house. Does all the things a man's woman does for him. But you don't have sex."

"That's right." Jake's voice rumbled with a low, warning growl. He didn't want Drake, with his good looks and charm, going up to the house with Emma. That would push Jake right over the edge. "Not with Emma."

Drake frowned at the sound of Jake's voice. He took a good long look at Jake's eyes and body language. "I thought this woman was just your housekeeper, but you're pretty wound up about her, Jake." Now there was curiosity in Drake's voice.

Jake didn't want Drake or anyone else curious about Emma. He hadn't expected to want to be with her. To feel a sense of peace even with his body raging out of control. She was supposed to want to be with him, not the other way around. She'd turned his entire life upside down and he couldn't do a damned thing about it. She had him suffering , physically, emotionally, in every way possible and his temper was getting shorter and shorter.

"I'm wound up, but not because of her," Jake lied. And it was a lie. Blatant. Stupid. Hell, he was obsessive over Emma and getting worse every day.

He used every excuse to go into her room at night. He was pathetically grateful for the nightmares she sometimes had, and for the fact that she'd gotten used to him stretching out beside her while they talked in hushed, intimate voices. Of course she didn't know his body was as hard as a rock, and that the moment he left her, he jerked off like some silly teenage boy with no control.

"I want to meet her again."

Instantly the air thickened with tension. Murderous rage swept through Jake, a tidal wave that shook him. Thunder crashed in his ears, his blood boiled and fire burned in his belly. He actually saw red. Beneath his skin, something wild broke free and ran, itching uncontrollably. His jaw filled with teeth; his lips drew back in a snarl. Jake turned his head away from Drake, knowing his eyes glowed a feral red. He took several deep breaths to try to control the rampaging leopard clawing to break free.

As the wild animal in him wrestled for supremacy, his horse reared, screaming in fear, then suddenly lunged and bucked, trying to dislodge him. Jake dug his knees in harder and controlled the animal, murmuring soothing words, grateful for the distraction.

When the horse was calm, he glanced warily at Drake. "You've met Emma several times." Drake wasn't like the other men, flocking around her, looking for handouts of fresh coffee, baked bread and cookies. Drake had a tendency to be a loner, keeping to himself, living in one of the smaller cabins on the property.

Drake shrugged. "If she's affecting you like this . . ."

Jake frowned. "I didn't say she was having any effect on me at all. I'm restless and bored, but women don't get under my skin."

Drake snorted derisively. If it had been any other man, Jake would have been tempted to knock him off his horse. But Drake was different. He held a certain respect for Drake, so he kept his vicious temper under check.

"I'll tell you straight up, Jake," Drake said, gathering the reins. "You're acting a hell of a lot like a man who has a mate going into heat." He pushed back his hat and turned his horse away. "If that's the case, the symptoms only get worse."

"I don't have a mate. And women don't go into heat."

Drake nodded. "So you say." He dug his heels into the horse's side and trotted away, leaving Jake staring after him.

"WHEN will he be here?" Susan Hindman hopped up and down excitedly, leaping from one foot to the other. "Honestly, Emma, how can you stay so calm?"

Emma smiled one of her slow smiles and continued kneading the bread dough. "He'll be here soon enough, if he's radioed in. Don't worry, you'll have plenty of time to be with him. After all, you'll be here another four weeks." Susan was Senator Hindman's daughter, and he'd called and asked if they could watch her while the senator was out of the country. She was good company and Emma really liked her, but she had a terrible crush on Jake.

"Four weeks," Susan echoed, dramatically clasping her hands to her heart. "It's probably just as well he was gone when I arrived, I don't know how I'll stand it."

Emma laughed, a soft, pleasant sound that sounded melodic to Susan. "You're so silly, Susie. He's no different than other men." A dimple appeared along the right corner of her mouth, melting when she added, "Perhaps a little more of a tyrant."

"Oh, Emma." Exasperated that Emma didn't share her latest heartthrob, Susan shook her head. "I don't understand you. He's gorgeous. All those incredible muscles." She hugged herself ecstatically. "Muscles everywhere. Wide shoulders. And that tan and those eyes. He's to die for. You must be blind."

"It's a definite possibility," Emma agreed, laughing at Susan's drama.

"And he's richer than rich. He gets invited to the best parties, he's on the cover of magazines, in the newspaper. He knows movie stars and the president and, well, everybody. He knows everybody."

At sixteen, Susan was tall and lanky, without curves but with a coltish grace promising well for the future. Her hair was dark and curly, she had laughing hazel eyes with a generous spray of freckles across her nose. Jake wasn't aware of her visit yet, and Susan was anxious that he hurry home. He had called Emma three times a day, impressing Susan to no end, but Emma only seemed to find Jake very amusing and mildly exasperating instead of incredibly romantic.

"Your father has a great deal of money," Emma reminded mildly, "and he's always in the news. He certainly knows the president and more than his share of influential people."

"Oh." Susan dismissed her father with a wave of her hand. "Dad's just . . . well, Dad. Jake is different. He's so exciting."

Emma hid a smile, one inquisitive eyebrow going up. "Exciting?"

"Handsome. And all the rumors about him. People are afraid of him, you know. Daddy says he's one of the most powerful men in the world."

"Money and power aren't everything, Susie." It was a gentle reprimand. "And looks aren't everything either."

"Well, I know that. Daddy says he has such a brilliant mind and it's totally wasted on this ranch. He should be in politics, not just dabbling." She frowned. "But of course, he's got lots of enemies. Daddy says his kind always do. He says Jake is a barracuda in the boardroom and no one's business is safe from him. Better to be his friend than his enemy. Jake's just so fabulous and women chase him all the time."

"I'll bet your father didn't know your big ears were around when he said all that either," Emma said good-naturedly. She gave a last pat to the dough and went to the sink, shoving rather unsuccessfully at the unruly red hair spilling down her back in spiraling wisps, not to mention around her face and into her large eyes.

It bothered her that Jake was everything Susan's father had said he was. He did make enemies easily, and he seemed ruthless in his business dealings with others. Emma didn't fully understand the concept of buying and taking apart other companies, but she knew Jake was considered merciless when he conducted business.

She took another look at the birthday cake she'd decorated earlier, hoping Jake really would make it home this time before the weather brought another disaster. She wanted to surprise him with a small celebration.

"Just last month I saw Linda Rawlins and Jake get into a huge fight over you."

Emma swung around, her eyes enormous. "Me? Why me?"

Susan immediately felt contrite. Emma was very small and slender with flawless skin; well, almost flawless. She had two very faint scars marring the perfection of her face, both on the left side, one up near her eye, the other a long, thin crescent ending near the corner of her mouth. Susan had never gotten up the courage to ask her about those scars and Emma had never volunteered the information. Emma's past remained something of a mystery. Even her father didn't talk about Emma.

Jake had brought her from somewhere on the West Coast to be his housekeeper. That was all anyone ever said. Susan adored her ever since their first meeting, when her father had gone to Jake's house seeking campaign funds. She'd discovered Emma in the kitchen, laughing with the two toddlers. Immediately she'd pitched in to help and they had become good friends.

Her most secret desire was to have Emma's incredibly large green eyes and silky red-gold hair curving around her own face and cascading down her back to her waist in waves. Emma was sweet and understanding; she was always ready to listen to anyone, whether it was one of the ranch hands, Susan, or one of the children. Yet Emma always looked very vulnerable. Even at sixteen, Susan felt protective toward her.

"I was just kidding," Susan lied baldly, not liking the flicker of pain in the depths of Emma's eyes.

"You may as well tell me." Emma sighed, pulling a large barrette from the pocket of her faded blue jeans. She caught at the thick mass of hair and clipped it at the nape of her neck. The pulled-back style emphasized her high cheekbones.

Susan looked uneasy. "It's only gossip, Emma, I didn't believe it."

"Believe what? Come on, Susie, you've gone this far."

"Well." Susan scuffed at the Mediterranean tiles with her foot uncomfortably. "I was in the hall, it wasn't like I was eavesdropping on purpose or anything."

"Susie."

"All right, but I wasn't listening on purpose. Linda waylaid Jake at this party and asked him to take her to the Bingleys' party, which you probably know is the big event of the season."

Emma didn't, but she nodded anyway, trying not to wince when she heard the other woman's name.

Susan grinned suddenly. "Can you believe it? I wished I'd had a tape recorder. The great Linda Rawlins actually having to ask a man to escort her. I could have made thousands selling that information to the tabloids. Little shipping heiress shunned by the oil king."

"You read too many gossip magazines," Emma scolded determinedly.

"Yeah, probably." Susan was unrepentant. "But they're so much fun."

"Get on with it."

"Jake was cool and very polite in that distant way he has, but you know, with that sort of bored, totally hot look he gets. He told Linda he was taking you and she blew up. Like, big time. Sky high. She was shrieking at him at the top of her lungs. She told him nobody in society would ever accept you, and that his own parents thought it laughable that he was with you and that he was only doing it to spite them. Then she called you a domestic servant. Jake looked down at her with that sort of contempt thing he does and then she really got nasty."

Emma twisted her fingers together. Lately she'd been emotional and upset, and for some strange reason Susan's gossip really upset her. She knew everyone gossiped about Jake; he just took it in stride. But she was always out of sight on the ranch where no one saw her and she saw no one. She rarely even left the ranch. Linda had come by to see her already and said very ugly things in spite of the fact that Emma had tried to reassure her she was just the housekeeper.

"Linda said everyone knew Jake was Andraya's father and he got both you and Shaina pregnant at the same time and he only kept you around because of his illegitimate brats." Susan was outraged all over again, her fists clenched at her sides. She was definitely loyal to Emma.

Emma paled beneath her golden tan. "What did Jake say?" It was one thing to say it to her, here at the house, but to publicly scream it to Jake at a party was something altogether different.

"He didn't deny it. He just looked Linda up and down sort of like she was a loathsome bug and he stalked off in that cool way he walks. He was so gorgeous. And Linda looked pathetic and jealous."

Emma passed a shaking hand over her face and sat down rather abruptly. She didn't want people using her or Andraya to get at Jake.

"Oh, Emma," Susan wailed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. Linda's jealous. It's just that Jake is so different with you. You never seem to notice, but he's"-she hesitated, searching for the right word-"indifferent toward women. He brushes them off like flies; he has no time for them. You never go to parties but you should see him. Honestly, I'd die if he looked at me the way he does at those women, with such contempt, as if they're so far beneath him."

In spite of herself, Emma had to laugh. "He can't be that bad or they wouldn't be falling all over him."

"Other people aren't like you, Emma," Susan felt compelled to point out. "They'd sell their souls for all that money and power. And he's so hot. Women would put up with a lot for that. Plus, I think there's something about taming the bad boy."

"That's insane. You've been reading too many novels, Susan. In real life, if the man is bossy and arrogant, he isn't all that easy to live with. And I doubt if women throw themselves at Jake just because of his bank account."

"Sure they do," Susan insisted. "Dad's a senator, and a widower. Believe me, I've seen the women go after him and know all the signs." She wrinkled her nose. "You met Dana when she brought me. My governess. Ha. What a crock. She's so after Dad, and you saw how stuck-up she was with you. She treats me like that, as if I'm so far beneath her, yet she thinks I'm going to let her be my stepmom."

Emma hadn't cared for Dana, although she wasn't going to admit it aloud to Susan. The woman was too cold and made too many cutting remarks to Susan for Emma's liking.