But he already knew the answer to that. Knew that he was as addicted to Emma as he had been at

eighteen. And if he were going to be perfectly honest with himself—there was no point in anything else at this point—he knew he would always be addicted to her.

No matter what she did.

No matter how traitorous, how weak she was.

No matter what she said.

Jason knew that she’d said “I love you” to firmly lock him up in her trap.

Maybe yesterday he would have let himself believe that she meant it, that she was being honest with him.

But he couldn’t see things that way anymore. Not after seeing her with Steven and realizing once and for all how much better suited she was to being with her ex-husband than she would ever be with him.

He’d always known that Emma and Steven were two peas in a pod. Both golden, both privileged, both held hostage by the same rules of social propriety that had dictated their lives up until now and would continue to do so for the next sixty years.

They would have two golden-haired children, send them to only the best private schools, speak in hushed tones from across a heavily polished dining table, a table where the food wouldn’t be any good.

And why should their food taste good? Life, for people like Emma and Steven, wasn’t about joy. It wasn’t about happiness. It was about coming out on top. Looking their best at all times.

Winning, no matter the cost.

Jason knew exactly why Steven had come all the way to Napa to take Emma home. He could practically see the wheels spinning in Steven’s head: Like hell if he was going to lose out in the woman game to some low-life chef who’d had some lucky breaks.

In a way he had to appreciate Steven’s way of thinking. And if this was just a man to man battle, then fine, Jason would get down and dirty and fight for what he wanted. And he’d win. Hands down. Jason knew that Steven wouldn’t stand a chance. Because if Jason truly wanted Emma, he would have taken her.

Only, this war wasn’t between Steven and Jason. Emma was Jason’s true opponent.

The more his thoughts churned, the deeper his conviction grew that he needed to see his plan through.

Because even though he was tempted to kick her out of his house now, to stop playing this game, to say,

“I don’t believe you’ll ever love me,” not like he loved her, he needed to wind things up with Emma on his own terms.

He’d left on her terms back in college. He’d accepted that he wasn’t good enough for her, for her parents, for anyone or any part of her world.

But now she needed to know that the tables had turned.

And she wasn’t good enough for him.

All of which meant that he needed to head back home, get back into bed with her, and continue

convincing her that the two of them were going to be together forever.

He turned around and headed back toward his house, his legs heavy as cement, his heart cemented as well.

Still, something deep in his gut hurt. But that, he supposed, was just the price he was going to have to pay.

In the end, getting retribution was something he was doing solely for himself. Emma, he was convinced, would come out of this all just fine. She’d find herself another rich pansy to marry. She’d move back into her white-picket, two-story suburban paradise, and she’d forget all about him.

Any guilt he might have felt about the lies he was going to continue to tell her in the name of payback disappeared as he pictured her living her happily ever after with a Steven clone.

His mouth twisted grimly. The truth was, Jason knew he was the one who was going to pay the biggest price in the end. Because she would be living her new perfect life, while he would have to pick up the pieces and learn to get along without her.

Again.

Anger fueled him. Yes, he was going forward with his plans, but he was sane enough to know that he couldn’t let things stretch on with Emma for much longer. Quite frankly, he couldn’t take it.

The sooner she was gone, the better.

He’d have to work fast.

First things first, he needed to take everything away from her that she could easily go back to. Her home, her possessions. And especially her parents’ love and respect.

“Let’s go, sleepyhead.”

Emma wrapped her hands around the hot cup of coffee Jason handed her. “Go?”

She didn’t want to go anywhere ever again. She wanted to stay in bed all day. She was so tired. Utterly worn out from her confrontation with Steven. Drained from the fear she’d felt as she’d waited for Jason to come back to his house. Shattered and then put back together again at the wonderful realization that he not only wasn’t going to kick her out of his life, but that he wanted her to stay with him permanently.

And then her confession of love last night, knowing he’d been fast asleep and hadn’t heard her, but still wondering when he was ever going to say it back to her. If he was ever going to really love her the way she loved him.

No, she told herself, as she turned her attention to blowing the steam off the hot coffee, away from the odd confusion of her thoughts, of course he loved her. Why else would he ask her to move in? Tell her not to leave him? Say that he was sorry she had to deal with Steven, that he hadn’t said the right thing at the right time because he’d been too surprised by her ex’s appearance in his restaurant?

Jason smiled at her, a smile that spoke of his understanding of her exhaustion. And yet, something in his eyes said he knew what would make her feel better, give her energy to face her life again.

“To your house. To get your things.”

It was as the roof had been ripped off of his ranch house and sun was streaming over the bed, straight onto her. She wiggled into a more upright position.

“You want to go with me? Don’t you have to work today?” she asked, incredibly pleased that he not only wanted her to move in with him, but that he was going to take another day off of work to do it.

He waved his hand in the air. “Rocco’s got things covered. And besides, you’re so much more important than my job. Don’t you know that?”

No, she didn’t know that. And she wasn’t even sure that she believed him. But she wasn’t going to ruin everything, mess up this perfect moment, by saying that.

“Thanks,” she said softly, but before she could get out of bed and give him a kiss, he was heading for the door.

“By the time you’re showered and dressed, breakfast will be waiting.”

He winked at her and then was gone. Emma put the coffee cup down on the bedside table and closed her eyes. Everything was perfect, all she’d ever wanted was coming to fruition. So then why did she feel so muddled? So unsure?