Page 113 of Dance of Madness

As I shift on the couch, I suddenly wince at the bite on my thigh, not to mention the fresh bruises.

Nero notices just as he’s reaching for the pack of cigarettes and brass Zippo on the side table that have become our post-hunt vice. I just shake my head.

“I’m fine.”

His scowl deepens, and he stands.

“Wait here.”

I keep my eyes shamelessly glued to his abso-fucking-lutelyperfectass as he stalks from the room. I hear him walk up the stairs to the third floor, then frown in confusion when there's a banging warble and what might be water rushing.

A few minutes later, I hear him come back down the stairs. He strides back into the parlor where we ended our chase. Instead of sitting back on the couch, he walks right over to me and scoops me up into his arms, like I’m a damsel in distress.

I gasp as he strides out of the room and up the stairs. For a second, I think we’re going into the bedroom, but then Nero hooks a right at the top of the steps.

“Where are we?—”

I blink, my words cutting off as we step into a large, gorgeous old-world tiled bathroom. There’s at least five or six of these in the mansion, but like the electricity, the water doesn’t work.

Wait, what?

That theory flies out the window as Nero lowers me into an old claw-foot tube filled with warm, bubbly water. I blink in surprise as I lean back, the hot water instantly soothing my aches as Nero reaches over and turns off the faucet.

“How…?”

He turns toward me, smirking.

“I’ve had a little work done on the house.”

I exhale slowly, groaning as the water soaks my soreness away.

“Alittle?”

He shrugs. “It needed it. Got a little old coming here and not having any water.”

I grin. Then slowly, a not-so-fun thought enters my head unbidden.

“How…” I clear my throat. “How often do you come here these days?”

It’s not alwayshere, but I’ve been with him at least every other night the last couple of weeks.

Yeah. Everyothernight…

Nero shrugs as he sits naked on a small wooden footstool next to the tub, slips a cigarette between his lips, and deftly lights it.

“Fairly frequently.”

My lips purse.

“For chases?”

He plucks the cigarette from his lips and passes it to me, holding it for me while I take a small drag and then blow it out the side of my mouth.

“I don’t like the idea of other girls being in this position,” I finally say tightly.

“In my bathtub?”

I glare at him. “Nakedwith you, after beingchasedby you,” I say.

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