Page 92 of Dangerous Devotion

I gently lowered her to the ground but couldn’t bring myself to let go completely. My arms encircled her waist, pulling her flush against me.

“Jemma,” I said, my voice thick with emotion. I cupped her face in my hands, drinking in every detail of her features. The fierce determination in her eyes, the slight furrow of concern between her brows, the way her lips parted slightly as she looked up at me—in that moment, the depth of my feelings of love for this woman was almost overwhelming.

She’d turned out to be completely different than I’d anticipated. Thank the Lord I realized that before I forced her to marry Matt. Because right this minute, the mere thought of a life without her was unimaginable.

I pulled her closer, cupped her cheeks, and rested my forehead against hers. “I love you,” I whispered, the words feeling inadequate to express the tsunami of emotion crashing through me. “I love you so damn much.”

Jemma’s hands came up to cover mine, her touch grounding me. “I love you, too,” she murmured, her eyes never leaving mine.

We stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, and the world around us faded into background noise. Sirens wailed,people shouted, but all I could feel was Jemma’s steady breathing and the beating of my own heart.

Until Craig Donnelly was suddenly there, and next to him, Hawk and Dom. “Let’s go, lovebirds,” Dom said and slapped my ass.

I glared at him, then focused back on my beautiful wife.

And in that moment, I made a silent vow, one way more binding than any wedding ceremony or promise could ever be.

I would never let her go again. Whatever challenges we faced, whatever enemies came for us, we would face them together.

Always.

CHAPTER THIRTY

The drive back to La Dimora was mostly done in silence, with a few angry looks my dad threw at Vince—who ignored them completely.

Wasn’t it beyond funny now that the roles were reversed? And had it only been a couple of days ago when I sat in my father’s office and begged him not to go through with that arranged marriage and threw daggers at Vince?

Well, if I had married Matt, I would probably be as miserable as I’d expected to be then. But right here, with Vince’s strong arm slung around me, the feeling of being exactly where I should be, of finally having found my place in life, was unlike anything.

And not even the situation with Zotov could touch that lowkey buzz of contentment. It was as if the baseline of my life was finally in tune, and everything else was just challenges to be figured out.

Together.

Vince helped me out of the car, then took my hand in his and intertwined our fingers.

Even the familiar surroundings felt different now, charged with a new energy that hummed between us. Somehow, the kidnapping had changed things between us again, deepening our connection in ways I was still trying to understand.

Maybe it was the realization that what we had was precious and could be gone in the blink of an eye. Or maybe it was the constant tension of Isa and Mira, still in Zotov’s hands.

As we entered, Piccolina completely lost it and even summersaulted in an attempt to reach us first.

Vince swept her up and calmed her down.

Dante, Hero, Peaches, and Goofy approached us, their faces a mix of relief and concern. Vince’s grip tightened slightly, and his body tensed beside me.

Dante hugged me—not that Vince let go of my hand—the opposite really—he shoved Picca into Dante’s arms, then barked, “Be careful.”

Dante took a step back, shook his head, and we shared a look. The next one in line was Hero whose eyes darted to Vince, then he shrugged and went in for a hug. “Glad to have you back, Sis.”

Vince growled, and I stared at him. “Really?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “I’m ready to do almost anything for you, but I can’t change my whole personality.”

I cocked my head. “That means you will remain jealous of your brothers?”

He scoffed. “I’m not jealous; I just don’t want them touching what’s mine.”

I sighed and shook my head. I should clock him over the head for his antiquated attitude. But in all honesty, I was too exhausted to fight, and if I was being perfectly honest, I was his. Utterly and irrevocably his. So why pretend? And if this was his way of showing that to the world—or his brothers—so be it.

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