Page 45 of Dangerous Devotion

“Never, ever give it to her,” he said to Isa while staring me down.

“Hey,” I said.

He growled. “Isa, back into the house. Now.”

Isa hesitated, side-eyed me, then shrugged. “He’s not known for being rational either,” she murmured, then fell into a half-jog toward the house.

“What the hell is your problem?” I finally said when Isa was out of earshot.

“My problem?” Vince snickered. “My problem is you within the radius of a mile of a laptop. That’s my problem.”

And then he stepped closer, bent over, and slung me across his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Icarried Jemma away from the pool area and ignored her protests.

How the hell did Zotov escape my men and just wander around the property? Was there a traitor in my ranks, or was he just that good? And what had Jemma and Isabella been up to?

Whatever it was, I was done with my punk putting herself in more danger, doing God knows what… I couldn’t risk it, not with everything that was happening.

“Vince, put me down! This is ridiculous.” She squirmed in my arms, but I held her tight against my shoulder.

Finally.

I’d missed her last night, but on top of being crazy busy, I’d been too angry, too agitated. So, instead of crawling into bed with her, I’d stayed in my studio, the one place where I could exorcise some of my anger, channel my thoughts, and calm my mind. “Not until we’re somewhere private,” I growledwhile carrying her across the manicured lawn toward the old greenhouse at the far end of the property.

As we approached, I felt Jemma’s body tense. “Where are we going?”

I didn’t answer. Instead, I unlocked the door, then pushed it open with my shoulder. The scent of fresh paint and turpentine filled the air, mixed with the lingering smell of soil and lush greenery from the flowerbeds that were left, forming an outer parameter, a protective green wall.

I wound my way through the lush greenery until we reached the area hidden inside.

Easels stood scattered around the open space in the middle, with canvases in various states of completion on them. This was my sanctuary, my secret place where I could let my guard down and just…be.

I set her down and glared at her.

Not that she noticed. Her eyes widened as she took in her surroundings. “Holy shit. What is this place? A jungle?”

“My studio,” I answered, running a hand through my hair. “One of them.” Because in winter, when it was freezing, I used the studio indoors even though the lighting wasn’t nearly as good as out here.

Her gaze darted from canvas to canvas, her expression a mix of surprise and something else I couldn’t quite place, especially when it landed on the painting I did last night—an abstract piece, angry colors, reds and greys, full of aggressive strokes and chaos.

“You’re good.”

I nodded, suddenly feeling exposed. This wasn’t a side ofmyself I showed to many people. But Jemma wasn’t just anyone anymore, was she?

“Now, what were you doing with Isa and Zotov,” I asked, narrowing my brows.

She ignored me and traced the edge of a nearby canvas with her finger, her touch light and reverent. “This is beautiful. I had no idea…”

I stepped closer, drawn to her like a magnet. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me. Just like there’s a lot I don’t know about you.” I cupped her chin and tilted her face up to meet my gaze. “Like what you and Isabella were doing out there with Zotov.”

Jemma’s eyes flashed with anger, and she faced me. “Why don’t we start by you telling me where you were last night?”

I stiffened, caught off guard by her directness. “I was working. And then…” I pointed at the painting.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” she said. “Why?”

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