Part 4 (1/2)
”And how many is that?” she said scornfully, feeling as if he had slapped her in the face.
”None of your d.a.m.ned business.”
”Does that mean none or dozens?”
”It means mind your own f.u.c.king business!” Jonas stood abruptly. ”I'll be waiting outside in the hallway when you're ready to go.”
Lily's hands shook slightly as she watched him leave. Jonas wasn't just the strong, silent type, he was d.a.m.ned unfriendly. To the point of rudeness.
Because she had overstepped a line and asked about his personal life?
Lily had tried to get Asher to open up about Jonas when he called this morning, but her brother either hadn't known much about the other man or else he wasn't talking. More likely the latter. Either way, it looked as if Gabriel was the only one who had answers about the enigma that was Jonas, and she wasn't about to give her eldest brother the satisfaction of her showing a personal interest in Jonas.
Even if it was frustrating as h.e.l.l knowing so little about a man who posed far more questions than he answered.
The world of acting was a gregarious one, the people in it usually flamboyant and only too eager to talk about themselves, even if that gregariousness was sometimes an act to hide their insecurities.
Jonas was the total opposite. He didn't have an insecure bone in that magnificent body, for one thing. And he was silent. So silent. And watchful. Unemotional.
He wasn't unemotional last night, when he lifted me up by cupping my bottom with those large hands and pressing my p.u.s.s.y against the hardness of his c.o.c.k.
Well...no. But he obviously regretted having done that.
And I should be more worried about the graffiti sprayed over my dressing room, and the person who did it than thinking about the size of Jonas's hands or his c.o.c.k!
Could it be someone she knew, someone who actually worked at the theater? She knew Maurice continued to hold a grudge against her, and yes, he was obnoxious and critical every chance he got, but she couldn't believe even he would do something as sick as this, to try to get rid of her.
No, it had to be someone outside the theater.
”Any coffee with friends, or straight home?” Jonas asked as she came out of her dressing room.
”No time for coffee now. Thanks.” She nodded as he held the door out onto the street open for her so they could walk the short distance to where he had parked the SUV, the cold and damp air causing her to huddle down inside her coat, gloveless hands deep in the pockets, her hair loose this evening to keep her ears warm. ”I do need to go food shopping on the way home, though.”
Oh yippee. Jonas hated doing his own small amount of food shopping, and he always knew exactly what he wanted-strong coffee, milk, bread-and went straight to it, paid his money, and then left. He'd seen the women in the supermarkets, getting in his way as they tried to decide on the merits of this avocado or that one. It was a piece of fruit, for G.o.d's sake, not b.l.o.o.d.y rocket science, and if they decided not to buy, after all, then someone else would come along later and buy the fruit they'd manhandled. If he ran a food store, he would have a sign up saying, ”you touch it, you buy it.”
”Fine,” he grated.
Lily eyed him mockingly once they were in the warmth of the SUV and he had driven the vehicle out into the flow of traffic. ”I have to eat, Jonas.”
Jonas's fingers tightly gripped the wheel as his thoughts instantly went to the voluptuous curves beneath the red coat Lily was wearing. Big b.r.e.a.s.t.s, slender waist curving out to fuller hips. Yes, she would need to eat to maintain that mouthwatering figure.
”Unless you want to take me out for an early supper?”
Jonas glanced away from the traffic long enough to recognize the challenging glint in Lily's eyes.
”As an apology for being so rude to me earlier?” she wheedled.
He turned his attention back to the road, knowing he had been a bit harsh with Lily earlier. Enough to take her out to supper? No. This was a job, d.a.m.n it- ”Or I could take you out for an early supper?”
”Persistence should be your middle name!”
”It's actually Elizabeth.”
Jonas already knew that. He'd done his research after leaving her last night, knew far more about Lily today than he had yesterday. Schools attended, exam results, drama school, boyfriends. The more he knew about Lily, the better chance he had of finding her stalker.
”I'm not hungry,” he replied.
”I am.”
”That's why we're on our way to the supermarket.”
Lily breathed an inward sigh. It really was like trying to draw blood out of a stone trying to get Jonas to say more than a few words. She wouldn't have believed it, but he was even more distant than her brothers. They might be moody and uncommunicative most of the time, but they always had a lot to say in regard to her, even if she didn't like most of it.
It became clear within seconds of entering the building that supermarkets were another thing Jonas didn't like.
Although the dark scowl on his face as he accompanied her around the store did have its uses. Other shoppers simply moved out of their way, and the middle-aged woman on the till even packed Lily's food into a bag for her, eyeing Jonas cautiously all the time she did so. No doubt as a way of getting the glowering six-and-a-half footer out of the shop all the sooner.
He also carried the two bags of shopping back to the car for her.
”I could get used to this.” She grinned as he slid into the driver's seat beside her after stowing the shopping in the back.
”You really shouldn't.”
”I bought enough ingredients to make dinner for you too.”
”I told you-”
”You aren't hungry.” She nodded, looking down at her hands. ”Please don't make me eat alone, Jonas,” she said softly.
Jonas shot Lily a frowning glance. Were those tears he could see balanced on the tips of those thick dark lashes?
Of course it is, you stupid f.u.c.ker!
Lily might like to give the impression of toughness, but she had still gone through the trauma of seeing her dressing room covered in graffiti filth earlier. Then gone on stage and put on a spectacular performance. This, not wanting to be or eat alone, was obviously a reaction to all that.
He eased some of the tension from his shoulders. ”What are we eating?”
She gave him a hopeful glance. ”Spaghetti Bolognese.”
”Sounds good.” Jonas cooked for himself, but it was usually a steak or some other meat, with salad or a baked potato, easy stuff that could be quickly prepared.
”Those that eat help cook and clear away.”
He grimaced. ”Sounds like one of Gabriel's dictates.”
”Probably because it is.” She breathed out shakily. ”Do we have to tell him about the graffiti?”
”Yes.”
Her eyes widened. ”No negotiation or listening to argument, just yes?”