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She snickered. “Like that would ever happen. And if it did, you’d be bored.”

He had to concede—if only to himself—that she had that right. Pulling her closer, he nuzzled her neck. “I thought about you a lot today.”

“Did you?”

“Hmm.” He kissed the hollow beneath her ear. “It’s not a good thing. I’m supposed to be focused. You keep creeping into my thoughts and distracting me.”

Devon huffed at his accusatory tone. “I don’t see how that’s my fault.”

“I didn’t say it was your fault. I’m just blaming you.” He nipped her lip. “I wouldn’t be so distracted by worry for you if you were staying with me.”

“Not dropping this, huh?” She gave him a raised brow and fuck if it didn’t go straight to his cock. “Listen here, pooch, I won’t be guilted into doing something I don’t want to do. I agreed to temporarily live here because it was smart. There’d be nothing smart in staying with you, considering we don’t know how long it’ll be before our demons—”

“I know.” Tanner sighed, hating that he couldn’t argue her point. He’d had a sick feeling in his gut since the day she was first kidnapped, and that feeling hadn’t gone away. Wouldn’t.

He’d checked in regularly throughout the day with the demons he had stationed outside her studio. Other than Eleanor turning up, nothing untoward had happened, but he hadn’t been able to relax. Even now, when he had her right there in his arms, he couldn’t fucking relax.

It didn’t help that he was quite sure that it was Eleanor who vandalized her apartment. Tanner had paid it a short visit while Devon was at work. Some of her lair members had been there, clearing away the destroyed furniture. He hadn’t picked up Eleanor’s scent, but that meant nothing, since enough time had gone by for it to fade. He thought it significant that the one room that was ransacked was the very room in which he’d taken Devon against the wall.

He’d heard that Eleanor could pick up echoes of events by touching objects—a similar gift to Levi’s ability to pick up echoes of events at death scenes. If that were true, it was possible she’d touched something in the living room that showed her what had happened there. Eleanor would have had one hell of a damn tantrum … which was exactly what the scene of destruction had looked like to him when he’d viewed it on Ciaran’s cell phone.

The only thing that brought Tanner any comfort was the mark on Devon’s palm. As he looked down at it, he got a glimpse of his fingerprints on her wrists. And he couldn’t help but smile.

“You can stop looking so smug about the brands,” she muttered.

“I could. But I won’t.”

“Yeah, I figured you’d say that,” Devon grumbled. “They sure raised some eyebrows. All day I had to field off nosy-ass questions from clients. I need to buy some wristbands or something to cover—ow, that hurt!”

He licked over the delectable lip he’d bitten, soothing the sting. “No covering the brands. I like to look at them. I like that other people can see them. And if you try hiding them, there’s a high chance my demon will decide to just brand you again.”

She stilled, and her gaze turned thoughtful. “That point sadly holds merit.”

He hummed, satisfied that she wouldn’t conceal them. Cocking his head, he stroked his hand over her hair. “You going to tell me what’s bothering you now?” He tapped her temple, adding, “I know something’s going on up here. What is it?”

She bit her lip, so he used his thumb to pull it free from her teeth.

“Is it something Eleanor said to you? You were very vague about her little visit.” He could ask Harper about it, but he’d rather Devon told him. He wanted her to trust him. To trust that she could be open with him. He caught her face with his hands. “Talk to me. You know you can.”

Devon sighed. “She said some things that annoyed me, yeah. She also made me realize something I’m not whatsoever happy about.”

He tucked her hair behind her ear. “What?”

“My demon’s becoming possessive of you.”

Tanner fought a smile, knowing she wouldn’t appreciate his smugness. Especially since this was clearly hard for her to admit. “Possessive?”

She nodded. “It was exponentially pissed when Eleanor made it clear just how much she’d like you to impregnate her.”

He snorted. “That’s not going to happen.”

“Would it really be so bad to start your own line?”

“Some time in the future, no. Right now? It’s not what I want.”

God, it made her such a bitch that that relieved her, didn’t it? But the thought of him fathering a kid to another woman was just a little too much for Devon to bear right then. In the future, long after they’d gone their separate ways and she’d licked her wounds, it wouldn’t be so hard to handle. Hopefully.

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