She knew that was true. He was in her room every night, pacing or stretching out beside her on her bed, in the dark, plying her with questions. "When was the last time you slept?"
He rolled back over onto his back and laced his fingers behind his head. "I don't remember. A few days ago. I sleep better when I'm home."
She didn't know when. Most nights he stayed in her room until two or three in the morning. Sometimes he paced back and forth in the children's rooms like a caged animal. Jake was so complicated, and he just plain wore her out sometimes. She kept trying to figure him out when he never talked about his childhood. She'd only met his mother the one time and it hadn't been pleasant. She knew there was a standing order to keep his parents from the property, and Kyle and Andraya were guarded at all times.
As if reading her mind, Jake turned the tables on her. "Tell me about your parents."
She glanced at him. "Like what?"
"Did you ever travel outside the States? Where were they from originally? What did your father do for a living?"
She frowned up at the ceiling. "We always had money, but you know, I don't know what my father did in terms of a job. We didn't have tons of money, not like you--but then you own just about half of the United States. Still, we never wanted for anything."
"You never asked your father what he did for a living?"
"No. I don't know why. I wasn't around a lot of other children so I guess it never came up. The last couple of years before he died, he spent a great deal of time on his laptop, and I know he often went to Internet cafes when he traveled. I assumed he needed to do so for work."
"And your mother?"
"She looked after us. She painted. She was a wonderful artist." Emma kept her answers brief, and worked to keep wariness from her voice. She'd been taught never to discuss her parents, and although they were dead, the rule still held.
"So that's where you get your talent."
Emma was pleased that he thought her talented and pointed out something in her that was like her mother. "She drew all the time on sketchpads and I did the same in the car. We used to pass the charcoals back and forth, and when we stayed at a place for any length of time, almost the first thing she did was set up a room we could paint in."
"When I went to your apartment the first time, I found an old sketchpad. I thought it looked important so I brought it to you. Your mother's?"
She swallowed the sudden lump clogging her throat and nodded.
He shifted enough to tug at strands of her long hair, wrapping them around his finger as he talked. "The movers packed some paintings. Why don't you have them up in your room?"
She was silent for a few moments, turning the question over and over in her mind. He wasn't going to like the answer, and when he didn't like something he could be very unpredictable. "At first I was grieving and not paying too much attention to anything. When I thought about the paintings and wanted to see them, maybe for comfort, I was on bed rest and couldn't go rummaging through boxes."
He tugged hard enough on her hair for her to give a little yelp. "You should have told me. I would have gotten them put up for you. After the bed rest?"
She shot him a small scowl but he wasn't looking at her and it was completely wasted. "Stop pulling my hair." He didn't let go, but began rubbing the strands back and forth between his fingers almost absently. She sighed and let it go, knowing she was stalling. "After Andraya was born I was tired all the time, adjusting to two babies and a house to run. By the time I got to bed at night I was exhausted."
"You had a lot of nightmares," he pointed out.
She couldn't deny it. He'd often sprinted to her room to make certain she was all right and stayed to talk until she fell asleep again. "That's true," she admitted. "After that, I just wasn't certain if I was going to stay or not. I thought I'd give it some time while I figured out what I was going to do after the money came in from the settlement."
Beside her, Jake went very still. "You think about leaving me quite a bit, don't you?"
Was there hurt in his voice? She was usually quite adept at reading the emotional nuances in people's voices, but Jake was different. He always sounded casual, his voice soft and mesmerizing no matter the subject. Even when he was angry, he lowered his voice rather than raise it. "I don't think about leaving you." It was absurd--the way they were talking, they might have been in a relationship. "I didn't know if the job was going to work out. Things would change if you married someone. You can't pretend they wouldn't."
"You can put your mind at ease about my getting married. The women I know are treacherous bitches and I wouldn't allow them anywhere near my money, my home or you. Certainly not my children. So I think I can safely say that marriage to any of them is out."
"You just let them near your body."
She pressed her lips together, hating the mixture of emotion in her voice that made him turn his head to look at her, his gaze suddenly speculative. She hadn't realized until that moment that she was angry with him. She hadn't even known that she was jealous. She didn't want Jake as her lover or anything else. Any kind of relationship other than the platonic one they had would be a disaster. Jake wasn't easy to live with as a boss. As a lover or a husband, he'd rule with an iron fist.
"We can't all be perfect little saints, never enjoying the pleasures of the flesh."
She curled her nails into her palm, hard enough to hurt. The tips of her fingers ached. "Get out of my room. I mean it. You're being insulting and I've had a bad enough day without putting up with a lot of crap from you. Get out."
He didn't budge. "Why is that an insult? Basically you pointed out that I was a sinner. What's wrong with me pointing out that you're a saint?"
"You're being deliberately insulting and you know it." She flung her arm across her eyes. "I'm so tired, Jake. I wanted today to be a good day for you. I looked forward to you coming home and tried to make things spec
ial for your birthday. I don't know what went wrong, but I just want to crawl under the blankets and try again tomorrow." Her throat clogged with tears again and that made her want to weep just for being such an idiot. What was wrong with her lately?
Jake turned on his side, one hand sliding through her hair. "You did make my birthday special, Emma. I've never had a present or a cake before. I'm never going to forget what you did for me. And tomorrow morning I'll open the presents with Kyle and Andraya. We can have cake for breakfast."
She tried not to laugh. "No, you won't. They can't have cake for breakfast."
"Why not?"
He sounded innocent enough, but she knew him better than that. The moment he'd had a son, he'd probably researched every fact he could find about nutrition and health care. More than likely he'd consulted every leading authority he could find. He had a mind for facts and details, and she doubted if he ever forgot anything he read.
"You know very well why not. We can't take a chance on spoiling them too much, Jake. Andraya is already showing signs of being a little princess."
"She is a princess."
"In her own mind."
Jake wrapped a length of her hair around his hand and brought the silken strands to his face. "In my mind as well. But if you say no cake for breakfast, no cake it is. You're the boss."
She nearly snorted. "Since when? No one ever bosses you, Jake." He ran his home and the ranch in the same way he ran his business. He didn't trust anyone enough to give them much room. Drake, Joshua and perhaps her, were the few he gave a little leeway to, but not much. He would be hell to live with. He would want complete control. Why that made her want to cry all over again, she didn't know. But tears burned on the ends of her lashes, further humiliating her.
"I'm sorry, Jake. I honestly don't know what's wrong with me. I don't. It isn't you. I'm just falling apart. I wasn't even like this when I was pregnant."
His hand slipped over her shoulder and down her arm to nudge under the hem of her shirt and splay across her belly as if he could feel a child growing there. "I think you just need to have someone hold you while you fall asleep. Remember when you had your nightmares." He bent his head to hers and brushed a kiss along her temple. "I held you and you went to sleep."