Page 28 of The Devil's Torment

I cross the room and join the small group. “You do know Xan will probably shoot you if he glances over here and sees the two of you with your heads together.” Throwing an arm around Saskia’s shoulder, I maneuver her until her back is facing the room. This way we might stand a chance of escaping Xan’s wrath.

“I can take him.” Donovan chuckles. “Another wedding. You De Vils are falling like dominos.”

“While the Sinners are growing old and crusty, and their balls are drying up,” I say.

Gray laughs. “I can assure you my balls are in full working order.”

“Mine, too,” Donovan chips in.

“Good God, here we go again.” Saskia rolls her eyes. “What is it with men? It’s like every time you gather together, you’re all ‘Hey, let’s all get out our dicks and windmill them to prove how manly we are’.”

Donovan leans down and kisses her cheek. “You’re my favorite, Saskia, and this is why.” He scuffs a hand over his clean-shaven chin. “You know, maybe weshouldconsider a match up. We’d have beautiful children, what with my insanely good looks and your stunning beauty.”

I automatically glance over my shoulder in case I need to run interference with Xan. I can’t see him anywhere. Let’s hope it stays that way.

“Saskia Sinner?” She wrinkles her nose in distaste. “I don’t think so.”

“I’m a modern man,” Donovan says. “Maybe I could be Donovan De Vil.”

“That’s worse.”

“Fine, then we’ll double-barrel it. Donovan Sinner De Vil and his gorgeous wife Saskia De Vil Sinner.”

“Do you want our children to be bullied at school?”

“Children,” a low, gravelly voice behind me bites out. A groan lodges in my throat. I don’t need to look behind me to know who’s heard the tail end of the conversation without the preceding context. “What fucking children?”

I shift my weight a little, turning my shoulder in readiness to body block him, but before I can attempt to calm the flames, Saskia fans them.

“The ones I’m planning to have with Donovan.” She runs a hand over her flat stomach.

Xan’s eyes bulge. “You fucking what?” he roars, drawing the attention of several groups of weddings guests who decide there’s an unfolding drama worth paying attention to and openly gawk at us.

“She’s messing with you.” I glare at my sister, who’s got a gleam in her eye and a mischievous grin tugging at the corners of her lips. “Relax. The only pregnant woman around here is your wife.”

“For now.” Saskia rubs her belly again, then blows Donovan a kiss.

Xan tenses, his entire body shaking. I don’t get his beef with Donovan. I like the guy, although I’m with Xan on what a fucking awful match he’d make for my sister. Then again, I’m not sure we could agree on a man whoisgood enough for her other than the Prince of Wales, and I can’t see him dropping by to sweep Saskia off her feet.

“Saskia, stop it. This is my wedding day. The last thing I need is to have to break up a fight between this pair of dickheads.”

“Fine.” She pouts, and in the next breath, she’s laughing. “You are such an uptight arse, Xan. So easy to wind up. I pity poor Imogen.”

At that exact moment, Imogen sidles up to Xan and instantly picks up on the tension crackling through the air. She takes one look at the vein bulging in his forehead and his clenched jaw and matching fists, then slides her arm around his waist. “You owe me a dance, Mr. De Vil.”

His features momentarily soften as he glances down at her, love glittering in his amber eyes. Then he looks up, and they’re punishingly hard again. He jabs a finger in Donovan’s direction. “Last warning. Keep away from my sister.”

Donovan, in typical Donovan fashion, throws out a beaming grin, all white teeth and dimples, but before he can say something controversial and risk escalating the tension further, Gray grips his arm and steers him away. Imogen does the same with Xan—in the opposite direction.

“Well done, Saskia,” I snap. “Bloody marvelous.”

“Oh, don’t you start. I’m not the slightest bit interested in Donovan, but teasing Xan is too easy. I’m having a little fun, that’s all.”

“Choose better pursuits.” I pivot, scanning the sea of faces for one in particular. I find her chatting to Christian. Whatever he says makes her laugh, her head tilting back slightly, revealing the elegant slope of her neck. My belly flips. Who is this woman? It’s no one I’ve ever had privy to before.

Christian clasps Victoria’s upper arm, leaning in close to her ear. The butterflies in my stomach are incinerated by a raging blaze as a torrent of jealousy blasts through me.

Jealous? Me? It’s my first experience of the emotion, and I can’t say I’m a fan.

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