LITMIR.BIZ

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at all,” he said. “I’ve just got something more intriguing to look at this time.”

      Emma gasped softly, but didn’t know what to say. Instinctively, she held her breath as he leaned close to her and put his arm around her shoulder. She started to worry that he would be able to see down her top from this angle, but it was hard to focus on that when she could smell his cologne and feel the warm press of his leg against hers.

      “Thank you for agreeing to have dinner with me.”

      “You didn’t really give me a choice,” she replied, mostly in jest.

      Jonah only shrugged. “I know. And I apologize for that. I guess I just wasn’t sure what to do when you kept turning me down.”

      “Taking the hint was always an option.”

      “Yes.” He laughed. “And I would have if your eyes were sending the same message as your mouth. But I could see you were conflicted, so I thought I’d give you a little push in the right direction.”

      “Threatening to get me fired is not a little push. That’s blackmail.”

      Jonah winced. “Agreed. It was a drastic step on my part. But I wouldn’t have called your boss, for the record. I was bluffing.”

      Emma crossed her arms over her chest, realizing too late that it gave him a tantalizing view of her cleavage. His blue eyes flickered down for only a moment before returning to hers. She was surprised by his restraint.

      “Even if you’re mad at me, by the end of the night, we will have kissed and made up,” he said confidently.

      Emma couldn’t help but arch an eyebrow at him. “You’re just used to getting your way, aren’t you?”

      “Usually.”

      She eyed the full swell of his bottom lip as he spoke, remembering those lips as they sucked salt and lime juice from her body at the Mardi Gras party. The memory sent a flush of heat to her cheeks that she was certain he could see. She turned away from him, looking out as the sun started to set and lights began twinkling in the distance.

      “Perhaps not this time,” she said, both hoping she was right and knowing she was wrong. Every minute she spent with Jonah, the more convinced she was that she wouldn’t be able to resist him much longer.

      “Mr. Flynn, we’re about five minutes from landing.”

      Jonah smiled and pulled away from her. “Excellent. See, now it didn’t take very long to get here, did it?”

      Emma glanced at her phone in her purse. It had been a little over forty minutes. Not far enough for Boston. Too far for the Hamptons. She didn’t recognize the skyline, but it was a smaller town on the water. She could see the shore. Within minutes, they came to a gentle, bouncing landing on top of a bank building.

      “We’re going to a bank?”

      “Very funny. I’m actually friends with the president of this bank. He’s the only one that uses the helipad and said we were welcome to make use of it tonight. It’s that or fly all the way to the outskirts of town to the airport and charter a car to drive us right back here. This way we’re only a block from the restaurant.”

      They slipped off their headsets and unfastened their seat belts. The pilot opened the door of the cabin and they stepped out onto the tarmac. “I’ll be waiting on you, sir,” he said.

      “Thank you,” Jonah replied before taking Emma’s hand and leading her to the rooftop door. They took the elevator down to the lobby and exited onto a quiet street in a quaint-looking seaside village she didn’t recognize.

      They walked about a block before she saw a taxi go by advertising a place that claimed to have the finest seafood in Newport. Newport, Rhode Island? She’d never been there before, although she knew it had once been a very popular summer retreat for the wealthy of New England. It was famous for its huge mansions only blocks from the sea.

      Emma kept her suspicions to herself until they reached a building just off the harbor that looked like an old Georgian-style inn with white siding, dormer windows and the charm of an old-fashioned seaport village. The sign hanging overhead read Restaurant Bouchard & Inn.

      “Here we are,” Jonah announced as they climbed the short staircase that led inside. “The best French restaurant I’ve found on this side of the Atlantic.”

      The maître d’ greeted them, noted their arrival in his book and escorted them to a table beside one of the large bay windows. Once they were alone with their menus of the day, Jonah leaned across the table. “Anything you order here will be amazingly delicious and beautiful. Their chef makes food into art. Tasty art at that.”

      Emma scanned the menu, desperately hoping her three years of high school French would assist her in not sounding foolish tonight when she ordered. Madame Colette would be so disappointed in her for mangling such a beautiful language. She had finally decided on a ratatouille ravioli starter and the rosemary lamb chops when the sommelier arrived at the table.

      “Wine?” Jonah asked with a pointed look.

      Emma was about to request a dry red to go with the lamb when she realized she wasn’t allowed to drink. The last week of her life had been so different it was easy to forget about her situation. “None for me, please. I’d just like some seltzer with a twist of lime.”

      Jonah ordered a single glass of cabernet for himself. When the waiter came to take their order a few minutes later, she made her selections and he opted for the stuffed lobster starter and the sautéed duck breast with brandied balsamic glaze.

      Emma was surprised by his flawless French accent as he ordered. As the waiter stepped away, Jonah turned to her with a mildly amused expression on his face. “What? Do you think that just because I wear jeans every day and play video games for a living that I wasn’t properly educated in expensive British preparatory schools like most ridiculously rich kids?”

      Emma frowned and looked down at the glass of seltzer in front of her. She was bad at making presumptions where he was concerned. He was just so different from what she was used to. It made her wish she did have wine to drown her embarrassment. “No, I’m just a little surprised—and jealous—of how flawless your accent is.”

      “You should hear my Japanese.”

      She looked back up, truly stunned this time. “You speak Japanese?”

      “If you want to be successful in the Japanese video game market, you have to. I also speak Spanish and I’m learning Mandarin as we expand further into the Asian markets. I’m an accomplished pianist and was the captain of my rowing team at Harvard, although that was just to appease my parents. I would’ve much rather been indoors playing games or romancing the ladies. As you can see, there’s a lot more to me than meets the eye, Emma. The same could be said of you.”

      “What do you mean?” she asked, feeling suddenly anxious at the turn of their discussion. “I’m just boring, uptight Emma the accountant.”

      “You’re selling yourself short. For starters, you’re great at keeping secrets.”

      Emma stiffened in her seat and swallowed hard. “Secrets? I don’t—”

      Jonah raised his hand to silence her protests. “Now that we’re away from New York and the prying eyes of anyone that might care besides the two of us, I can say as much. And you can finally be truthful with me. Because you’ve known. All this time, you’ve known who I was and you didn’t say anything to me about it.”

      The steely edge in Jonah’s voice sent her spine straight in a defensive posture. When she looked into his eyes, however, she didn’t see the anger she expected. Just hurt. The jovial, carefree CEO had a tender spot and she’d managed to find it without trying.

      “We had something special and you don’t seem to care about it at all. Why didn’t you tell me the moment you realized who I was?” He slipped his hand, palm down,

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