Jennifer looked around at the sprawling penthouse apartment in front of her. It was modern, which surprised her a little bit. Wood paneling and clean lines and simple furnishings. The carpet was a plush medium brown going from wall to wall. One wall had bookshelves that were about half-filled with books and otherwise contained various objets d'art. The art on the walls were photographs of landscapes. There was a large speaker system with a turntable and a substantial collection of records. It was well-decorated and comfortable and stylish.

And she hated it.

This was Jonathan's home, and instead of it being full of warmth and personal touches and little details that spoke to the man she was going to marry, the place instead felt cold and devoid of humanity. It was like a suite at a trendy hotel, not a place where a person lived.

"How long have you lived here?" she asked, hoping to figure out why this place felt so strange to her and delaying any statement of her feelings about it.

"Four years, I think. When we opened the Towers, it made sense that I moved in. I used to have a small house in Santa Monica, but I mostly spent time on my sailboat when I could. It was close to the marina. And this place is closer to the offices. And I own the building," he explained.

"Oh Max mentioned to me you take your sailboat to Mexico sometimes. Sounds like something to impress the ladies," she teased. "Very romantic." Jennifer continued to stall.

"I have taken women out on the boat, but not to Mexico. Those are usually fishing trips with Max and a buddy or two. I like racing, actually. I managed to win the LA to Honolulu race last year."

"You did!?" Jennifer had heard of that race. She knew all about it, actually. And really, she should have known that Jonathan had been a part of it. Wait…if he'd won last year, that meant that…

"Yeah, it was a lot of fun. There's a business…I guess rival would be the right word…anyway, Elliot Manning and I seem to go up against each other for a lot of things, both business and recreational, and this time I came out on top, which did make the win a lot sweeter," Jonathan said, grinning proudly.

Jennifer felt her stomach drop. She tried to smile, but it felt more like a grimace. "You'll have to take me sailing," she said, pushing down the thoughts that had filled her.

Jonathan put his arm around her shoulders and gave her a little squeeze. "How about tomorrow?"

She turned to look at him, confused. "Don't you have to go to work tomorrow? It's Monday."

"Nope," he answered, turning to take her fully in his arms. "When I was at our offices in New York, I talked to my vice presidents and to the board of directors, and I have put things in place so I can step away from day to day things."

Jennifer didn't quite understand what he was talking about. "So what does that mean?"

"It means," he began, leaning in to give her a small kiss on the nose, "that I can spend all my time with you. We do have an engagement party to plan and then a wedding. And then of course a honeymoon. And we're going to get a house, maybe some ranchland somewhere, and we'll be busy with the horses we'll get and everything else. I've been very successful, and I've fixed things so I can focus on you and our life together."

Maybe it was the mention of Elliot Manning that had put her on edge, but Jennifer could hear words in her head that sounded awfully like him. Do you know what I've sacrificed for you? Do you know what I could have had if it wasn't for you? You'd better be a little more appreciative.

She swallowed hard, dispelling those thoughts from her mind. Elliot and Jonathan were nothing alike. The things Elliot had done and said were so far removed from everything about Jonathan, it didn't even bear thinking about.

Jennifer wrapped her arms around his neck and smiled. When she looked at him, it was easy to smile. "I really love you, you know that?"

He smiled back at her, and that sparkle of his eyes made her heart skip a beat. Jonathan replied, "I've sorta figured that out, yeah. And I love you, too."

"So I gathered," she laughed.

And then Jonathan leaned in to kiss her, and even though the setting was less than ideal—good god, she hated the décor of that penthouse—everything was alright when Jonathan kissed her.

"Do women in your bed usually stay the night, or do you have Max drive them home after?"

Every day, it seemed like, Jennifer said something to surprise him. She was blunt without being abrasive. She was honest and open, and she had a wicked sense of humor. He was perhaps sillier whereas she was wittier. But their styles seemed to blend so well. And the fact that she seemingly had no qualms about asking him questions that no woman in his experience had ever been brave enough to come right out and ask made him love her all the more. Though, he reasoned, perhaps she wouldn't say things like that if she didn't already know she was the only woman in his bed for the rest of their lives.

Jennifer rolled over in bed, landing on top of him. "Hmm?" she prompted teasingly. Her breasts pressed against his bare chest and he could feel the lingering dampness between her legs from their coupling on his thigh where she lay on him.

"I haven't had a lot of women in this bed," he told her truthfully. "I prefer taking women to their place or to a hotel or away on vacation."

"Ah," she said simply.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jonathan asked. He pushed back a lock of her hair, tucking it behind her ear.

She smiled, nuzzling against his hand. "I'm just not surprised, that's all. You don't really get close to people, so I wouldn't really expect you to have women in your home. As much as you could call it that."

There was a little bitterness in her tone that he caught. "You don't like it here?"

"It's your home, so I love it," she answered.

"That's not what I meant."

Jennifer hesitated, and she stalled by kissing his chest and snuggling against him. She wasn't looking at him when she confessed, "It just feels so impersonal. I should walk into your home and learn things about you. And I don't here."

"I guess you're right," he realized. "I hadn't thought about it before. It's where I live, but I guess it doesn't really even feel like home. It's more like…I don't know, headquarters. I've got headquarters for work and headquarters for everything else. I hired a decorator, but maybe they didn't do a very good job."

"They did a great job," Jennifer insisted. "All the furnishings and décor are very nice. Very high quality, very cohesive style. It just isn't you."

"Well, wherever we move, it will be ours, and I hope we can make it like that together. Though maybe you take the lead in decorating. Looks like I'm not very good at that kind of thing," Jonathan said.

"We can figure it out," she replied.

They fell quiet for a moment, soaking in the intimacy of lying together like this in post-coital bliss.

Jennifer broke the silence to ask, "Who was the last woman you had here?"

There she was again with those questions that caught him by surprise. "Irene Darrow," he answered without thinking.

"My father mentioned that name," she recalled.

Jonathan hadn't remembered that detail before now, but come to think of it, Stephen Edwards had mentioned Irene Darrow. He'd said she and Jonathan had been on and off for a year. That wasn't entirely true, actually. This last time was about a year, and that's how she was the last woman in this bed with him.

"Tell me about her," Jennifer prompted.

How did she keep doing this? All these unexpected things. But Jonathan also realized that Jennifer was right when she said he didn't get close to people. Maybe this was how people got close, talking about these strange and slightly uncomfortable subjects.

Jennifer pushed herself up to look at him better. "I promise I won't be jealous. Since I'm the one in your bed now and not her."

"And you're always gonna be the one in my bed," Jonathan vowed.

"I know. So tell me about your ex-girlfriend."

"What do you want to know?"

"I don't know, anything."

Jonathan sighed, trying to think of what he could say. "She was an actress. Not in Hollywood, though that's what she was trying to break into. She was serious about her craft. She didn't just want to be a pretty face for MGM or anything like that. I think she could have been, if she'd wanted to."

"What did she look like?"

"Dark, straight hair. Long, but she wore it up a lot of the time. And she had this pale skin and big, dark eyes. She was beautiful," he said, thinking back. It was hard, actually. It had only been a couple of months since Jonathan last saw her, but he had trouble picturing her face. When he closed his eyes, all he saw was Jennifer.

"Did you love her?" Jennifer asked. There was no bitterness in her voice. Not one ounce.

That was a harder question for Jonathan to answer, though perhaps not for the reason she might have thought. "I don't know. I don't think so."

"You don't know?"

Jonathan held Jennifer and rolled them both onto their sides so he could look her in the eyes. "I didn't know until I met you that I've never been in love before. Because I know I love you, and I know I've never felt this way about anyone else."

Jennifer smiled and kissed him softly. "Is that why things ended? Because you didn't know if you loved her?"

"No," Jonathan told her. "No, Irene and I seemed to find our way back to each other whenever were were both in LA. She would get jobs in New York or Chicago, or she would tour with a company. We ended things when she was last in LA, though. We had a couple nights together before she told me she met someone. A producer, actually. And she said she'd fallen in love with him. And I was happy for her. I haven't heard from her in a while."

"Well, I hope she's found as much happiness as we have," Jennifer said.

Jonathan's brow jumped up his forehead. "You do?"

"Sure. She was someone you obviously liked, so she must be a good person or you wouldn't have spent so much time with her. And why shouldn't good people find happiness?"

It was incredible. She was incredible.

Jennifer didn't leave him much room to respond. She asked, "Who was the other woman my father mentioned?"

"Nikki Stephanos," Jonathan answered. That he recalled perfectly. "She was the daughter of a very successful businessman in Greece, and she and I spent three months on a yacht in the Mediterranean together before I had to go back to LA for work and she didn't want to come with me. So that was that. But it was never really serious between me and Nikki. I'm still good friends with the family."

"I'd like to meet her someday. I'd like to meet everyone who's important to you someday," she said.

It struck him once again how miraculous it felt to have this perfect, beautiful, brilliant woman love him, to know that she wanted to know everything about him and to trust that she would continue to love him with every new thing she learned.

But Jonathan didn't want to talk about himself anymore. He pulled her a little closer in his embrace and let his hands wander the soft silken skin of her bare back.

"And how about you?" he asked.

"Me?" Jennifer responded in feigned surprise.

He chuckled, "Yes, you. I know you've had your fair share of exes."

"Oh you do, do you?" she goaded.

"Jennifer, I'm not one of those men who expects the woman he marries to be an innocent chaste maiden. I know for a fact you aren't. And I'm not a jealous man. I just want to know about your past."

"So you're just curious?"

He hummed in confirmation. "Yep, just curious. But I won't press if you don't want to talk about it. We've got a lifetime to learn everything about each other. We don't have to talk about it now." And he meant it. He could be patient. As much as she needed. He added, "I just figured since we're on the subject…"

"Well, I haven't had the same sort of luck you've had with exes, all your beautiful, well-bred, brilliant ladies who adored you and were content to let you go on good terms. I mean, it wasn't all that bad for me. I've been with plenty of nice men. There was one a couple years ago in New York, Andy Segrin, who was very sweet and absolutely gorgeous, but he was also very aware of how gorgeous he was. That got annoying after a while. But most of the men I've been with were a lot of fun for the time but nothing serious. I never really wanted anything serious. You know how much my career means to me."

"Of course I do."

She continued, "Most men I've been with respected that. They respected that my career came first and they didn't want anything more from me than a few weeks of fun." Her expression darkened. "There was one, though, that I was foolish enough to get quite serious with. And he was the last relationship I had before I met you."

Jonathan didn't like the sound of that. He braced himself but tried not to scare her off the subject. "Oh?" he asked as casually as he could.

"Yes, actually, and come to think of it, he has a lot in common with you. He could be your evil twin," she said with a humorless chuckle.

"Uh oh."

"He's in business like you are. And he was at everything. Charming. And we did have fun together," she assured him. "And he seemed like the kind of man whose life might actually fit with mine. Someone who wouldn't want to change me."

So far so good… "But then something happened?" Jonathan asked.

Jennifer shrugged slightly. "Like I said, evil twin to you. You've got charm and we have fun, and you are exactly who you show me you are. He wasn't like that. Charm and fun and underneath he had a temper. And he had a mean streak. And he was…well…"

"Well what?" he pressed.

But Jennifer fell silent. She snuggled into his embrace again and said, "If it's all the same to you, I don't think I want to talk about it anymore."

Jonathan didn't like that one bit. Not that she didn't want to talk about it but that it was something that might have been hard for her to talk about. "Okay," he answered, kissing her hair. "We won't talk about it anymore."

He had to trust that if it was important, she'd tell him eventually. And he did trust her. More than anything in the world.