Page 108 of Burned

“Fine,” he pulls a cell from his pocket. “I’ve got a phone call to make.”

I look to the medic. “Thank you for helping.”

“No problem.” He flashes a grin. “You’re in good hands with Lucian. There’s nothing he wouldn’t do for the woman he loves.”

Do not look at Isobel, right now, Erin. Breathe.

“Yeah,” I joke, “I have a feeling he’s making a call to the interior designer right now. I’m betting the entire foyer will be torn out and replaced before our time here is over.”

A snort from the other side of the room. “That’s so Lucian. And he’ll probably take a pickaxe to the rubble before they clear it away.” Classic Cass.

“No,” Isobel says. “It’d be a jackhammer, knowing Lucian.”

I want to laugh. Kind of. Cass looks like she wants to throw something.

Cass sits on the sofa near the wall with Ryan tucked against her side while the men prepare their room. Someone has found him his blanket. Spider-Man, because apparently Lucian’s men’s reach extends to retrieving superhero textiles in crises.

Ryan’s eyes are open, but heavy. Cass strokes his hair and gives me a look that says she is holding herself together. She’s an 8 pm bedtime kind of girl.

Gregory stands near the table with his arms folded, glasses slightly crooked, staring at his screen. Waiting, as always, for Carlos.

Rafe enters the room. Lucian is behind him.

Rafe takes in the room, Isobel’s pale stillness near the far wall, Lucian moving to the chair at my side, and Cass pretending not to doze.

Then he sets a tablet on the massive dark walnut conference table.

“No breach,” he says. The room breathes out, but just as soon as we exhale, the tension returns.

“The perimeter was intact,” Rafe continues. “But Bayne’s men swept the grounds on arrival and found something.”

“What?” Lucian couldn’t possibly be tenser next to me.

“You got everyone here safely.” I put my good hand on his shoulder.

“You’re bleeding,” he growls.

I rub his shoulder. “We’re safe.”

“For now.” He eases a bit. “At least that murderous stone will be gone by dinner tomorrow.”

“What did you replace it with? Rubber padding?”

“Don’t tempt me,” he says. “But I did order something for you to wear. It’ll bring out the blue in your eyes.”

“What?”

“A bulletproof vest the same gorgeous color as your eyes.”

I groan. Then, I whisper, “But I’ll wear it if it makes you feel better.”

“Good. Because I ordered another renovation as well.” His hand wraps around the back of my neck as he lowers his mouth to my ear, lips brushing against my skin, “A room. For you.”

I’ve heard of these little rooms the Bachman men build for their women. Leather and velvet and all kinds of things my vanilla mind can’t wrap around. Things I desperately want to try but am too scared to ask for.

“Somewhere private I can take you when you misbehave,” he breathes against me. “And my men work fast. So you might want to rethink the stubborn act of yours.”

My body goes hot below the waist, flushed above. “Lucian,” I hiss. “Not here.”