Page 32 of Devoted

“You need sleep too, tesoro,” he urged, nudging me toward our bedroom. I was dragging, legs like lead, side aching from where I’d crashed into a wall… or something.

“I should check on Luca first,” I told him, debating between concern and respecting my brother’s boundaries as I paused beside his door. When I pressed my ear to the wood, all I heard was… snoring.

“He sounds like he’s fast asleep.”

“And so should you be. He’s a big boy,” Dante murmured, urging me down the hall, crowding me so I had no choice but to keep walking until we reached our room. “He just needs time to process what happened.”

“Gods, you’re bossy.” I tried to smile, but couldn’t quite manage one, feet tangling together as he steered me through the door, closing it behind us. “But you’re right. I’m just…”

“Being a good sister.” He kissed the top of my head. “Luca’s not the only one who was exhausted.” His nose wrinkled. “And you need a shower.”

“At least I don’t smell like a bonfire,” I huffed. “And I’m not ripping my clothes at the seams.”

“At least I don’t…” My husband paused, nostrils flaring. “What do you smell like? Whatever it is, the scent is odd, like… spent magic?”

“That’s… a long story,” I finally settled on since any answer would lead to a complicated explanation. “But since I apparently stink, I’ll be taking a shower first.” I sniffed my shirt.

Okay, so maybe he was right. The fabric did smell weird, a mix of ozone and chemicals.

Like that cloud of black smoke that had saved our asses.

“I’ll be right here when you’re done,” Dante said softly, sitting on the edge of the bed, running his fingers gently over the healing furrows in my arm. “I’m sorry about those. I should have been there.”

“Don’t be. It’s better than getting bit by one of those nasty spiders.”

He shuddered, all the blood draining from his face. “You don’t know the half of it,” he muttered, and when I cocked my head to the side, he just sighed. “That’s a long story, too.” Dante stared past me to the closed door, his expression closing down.

“We really should talk about what happened. But first, take your shower.” He stretched his arms up over his head and the entire front of his shirt popped open, buttons spraying everywhere.

“Well, shit.” My husband plucked at the ruined shirt. “Now I’ll have to find another guard with excellent taste in clothes. In a bigger size, of course.”

12

EMBERLINE

When I emerged from the shower, a now-shirtless Dante was exactly where he said he’d be. To my right, Gabriel was stripping, giving me an excellent view of that powerful body he sadly hid beneath suits and ties.

“I have to say,”—I held my towel in place as I swept my palm down all that glorious skin, loving the way Gabriel’s muscles bunched and rippled as he turned to face me—“I never get tired of looking at you. You’re a work of art, you know?”

I gently traced a new cut and the fresh bruise on his cheek, wondering where it came from.

“Not as beautiful as you, bella,” Gabriel dipped his head and brushed his lips over mine. “But after today, I really do need a shower.” Then he hooked his finger into the top of my towel and pulled it away, leaving me naked beneath his burning gaze.

“And when I come out,” he growled, tossing the towel to the side, “I expect you to be in that bed, wet and ready for me.” When I just glared, he pinched my chin between his fingers. “After what we just went through, I’m in no mood for your attitude right now. I need you, do you understand? For a minute, I thought…” He shook his head. “Never mind what I thought. I just need you, is all.”

With that, he turned and prowled into the steam still pouring out of the bath, giving me the perfect view of his glorious ass.

Dante snorted at the look on my face. “Stop ogling my brother and get over here, moglie. Good thing I’m a confident male, or I might be jealous.”

Gabriel’s chuckle drifted through the door before it slammed shut, then Dante pulled me into his lap, running his hands greedily over my skin, his lips brushing across my shoulder, my neck, kissing every inch of me like he couldn’t stop.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and shivered, hanging on tight.

Gods. We were actually alive.

I couldn’t believe we’d survived, and perhaps that was what Dante was doing—reassuring himself I was real. That this was real. Because every time I thought about what could have happened…

No. I wasn’t going to think about that.