Page 8 of Dangerous Devotion

She leaned back and looked up with her eyes narrowed, but I felt her arms wrap around me, and she put her whole weight against me.

Progress, I supposed.

Dante, Hawk, and Goofy jogged up, concern etched on their faces.

“Jesus, Vince,” Dante whistled, eyeing my arm. “You’re bleeding all over the lawn.”

“Thanks for the update, Captain Obvious,” I retorted, but there was no real heat in it.

Hawk met my gaze. “You look like shit.”

I nodded once. I might look like shit, but I was not the one needing attention.

I pointed at the helicopter, and Hawk nodded and moved there.

He helped Goofy secure the attackers, while Hero focused on Peaches, who was a little wobbly after he’d climbed out of the helicopter.

“He needs medical attention,” I said, and Dante nodded.

“On it,” Hero said, and he and Dante helped Peaches move toward the house with a smoothness and synchronicity I hadn’t noticed before.

Maybe I’d been underestimating my brothers all this time.

I nodded at Rudolfo, my head of security, who was waiting with his team at the top of the stairs.

I gave him a nod toward the helicopter, pointing at the two hostages. “Detain them and make sure they’re okay. I have some questions for them.”

Rudolfo nodded, instructed his team, and they came toward us.

I pulled Jemma closer once more, relief flooding through me. This was my turf. My kingdom. My ultimate safe space.

But she pulled back, her eyes blazing with fury. “What the hell were you thinking?” she hissed, pushing against my chest. “You could’ve been killed!”

I tightened my arm around her waist, keeping her close. “I did what I had to do to give us all the best chance possible to survive.” …To keep her safe.

“By playing action hero?” she scoffed. “Well, newsflash, this is not a movie, and you’re not the protagonist.”

Her words grated on my nerves, but I understood the motivation, the fear behind them.

I let her go and grabbed her chin instead. “How about you stop giving me shit for now, Punk? It worked, didn’t it? We’re all here, alive.”

“Hawk’s guy is hurt, and so are you!” She gestured at my bleeding arm. “You call that a success?”

I clenched my jaw and squeezed hers. “Yes, I do. Everyone’s breathing. That’s a win in my book.”

Jemma threw her hands up. “God, you’re impossible! You really have a God-complex. Did you ever think about the risks you’re taking?”

“Only the whole fucking damn time,” I growled. “It’s all I think about. You being the greatest risk of all.”

She glared at me, chest heaving. “Then maybe you shouldn’t want to marry me!”

I’d had enough. In one swift motion, I moved my hand to her neck, pulled her against me, and crushed my lips to hers.

Jemma struggled, her fists pushing against my chest, but I held firm. Gradually, her resistance faded. Her lips softened under mine, and she melted into my embrace.

When we finally broke apart, both breathless, I rested my forehead against hers. “I’m sorry I scared you,” I murmured. “But I’m not sorry for doing what was necessary to keep you safe. And I don’t care about the risk as long as you’re mine.”

Her eyes met mine, a mix of anger and something softer. “Just…don’t do something like this again,” she whispered.

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