The Bastard's Betrayal (Scandalous Scions 1)

Dante wasn’t one to admit mistakes often, but it took all of fifteen minutes before he realized he should have chosen better shoes. And holding a tense Rose wasn’t exactly easy. If she’d just relax… He knew better than to order it, though. She might decide she wanted to run, and this area was filled with brambles and thorns. She’d rip her legs to shreds, and he’d still catch her. Better for them both to suffer through this short trip as they were.

By the time the house came into view, Dante was sweating, in pain, and fucking furious. He didn’t bother to gauge Rose’s reaction to the cabin. He just marched up to the front door, set her on her feet, and grabbed her arm. “Do. Not. Run.” When she jerked against his hold, he gave her a little shake. “I mean it, Rosa. I’m in a foul mood, and you’ll only get hurt.”

“I didn’t ask you to carry me.”

“Hush.” He maneuvered himself between her and the door and used his free hand to key in the code to unlock it. Then he shoved her in ahead of him. The first slap of air-conditioning after that hike was both painful and welcome. Dante kicked the door shut behind him, barely pausing to ensure it locked properly, and then headed for the bedroom. He registered Rose trying to dig in her heels, but it hardly made a difference. He was stronger and she had to know hat. Stubborn woman. “Shower,” he barked.

“I can walk without you dragging me behind you.”

He needed to get out of these filthy clothes and scrub himself down. Dante didn’t mind sweating, but he had no desire to linger in that state longer than strictly necessary. He wouldn’t be able to focus properly until he got cleaned up.

“Dante!”

He moved down the hall to the single bedroom and through it into the massive bathroom. The walk-in shower looked absolutely heavenly. He pushed Rose in that direction, already intent on unbuttoning his shirt before she took the first step. “Turn on the water and strip.”

“What is this? Some kind of peep show?” She moved into the shower, eyes going wide as he finished unbuttoning his shirt. “What are you doing?”

“I’m sweaty and tired, Rosa. Do not test me. Turn on the water.”

She muttered under her breath in Russian, but she turned on the water. There were half a dozen showerheads at varying heights, giving it the feel of a human car wash, but Dante didn’t give a fuck how ridiculous it seemed. It would do the trick. He shrugged out of his shirt and undid the front of his pants. “Take off your clothes.”

“I hate you.” But she unbuttoned the shirt with quick movements and let it drop to the floor. He waited, and with another curse, she shucked off her panties and kicked them away.

He studied her body as she stepped into the shower and moved to the trio of shower heads farthest from him. He’d had his mouth and hands all over her many times in the months they dated, and he’d spent the past three months rewriting those encounters to how they would have gone if he hadn’t been playing that asshole Jackson Smith. She looked different. He narrowed his eyes. She still had that bitable ass, but… “You lost weight,” he accused.

“It’s called stress. You’d be familiar if you weren’t a fucking asshole who didn’t care about anyone else.” She ducked beneath the spray.

Dante paused to eject the clip from his gun and toss it in a drawer before he set the gun itself on the counter. He’d secure them properly later, but he didn’t need her trying to shoot him and make a run for it. Even if she managed to get to the gun, she wouldn’t be able to load it before he got to her.

He finished stripping and stepped into the shower. The second the hot water hit his skin, he sighed in relief. Yeah, this was exactly what he needed. He grabbed the soap and scrubbed himself down quickly, erasing the gritty feeling of sweat drying against his skin. It only took a few minutes, but he could feel Rose’s attention on him the whole time. Studying for weakness? Waiting for an opportunity to attack?

Neither, apparently.

He turned to face her, letting the water pour over him, only to find her staring at his cock. The feeling of her gaze on him had his body responding, his cock hardening even as she watched. “See something you like?”

“I see something mediocre.”

“Rosa.” He injected enough censure into his tone to make her glare. “Let’s not retread this ground.”

She opened her mouth but seemed to reconsider what she’d been about to say. Finally, she shrugged. “You’ve got to be the most arrogant motherfucker I’ve ever met.”