Moonlight Scandals by Jennifer L. Armentrout

From the moment Dev saw Rosie in that stunning dress that picked up those flecks of green in her eyes to this very second while she was scouring the dessert menu, he was absolutely and irrevocably entranced .

And he’d never felt that way about anyone or anything. Unlike his brothers and even his sister, he didn’t have any special hidden talents. He wasn’t good at painting or working with wood, and even though Gabe claimed Dev could sing, it wasn’t something he did often and couldn’t even recall the last time he had. But in this moment, he found himself wishing he had Lucian’s talent. His fingers itched to capture the striking lines of her face and the fullness of her mouth. He wondered what colors he’d have to mix to replicate the shade of her eyes and her skin.

Dev was beguiled by the way the candlelight flickered over the curve of her cheek and how she dragged her teeth along her lower lip when she was thinking hard about something. She toyed with her hair a lot, brushing this rebellious little curl that kept ending up in her face no matter what she did. He sensed a nervousness about her that he found . . . adorable, which was a word he didn’t use in his normal vocabulary, but he’d never seen Rosie nervous before. He’d seen her irritated and angry. He’d seen teasing and relaxed. He’d seen her aroused and satisfied, but never nervous.

Rosie was this beautiful, confident, and strong woman he’d believed was incapable of nervousness. But she was, and that didn’t make her seem weak or delicate. It made her . . . adorable.

He couldn’t remember ever being so engrossed in someone before and actually enjoying sitting back and listening to them talk. During the course of the dinner of crab cakes and pan-fried Cajun shrimp, he learned a lot about her.

How she’d met Nikki. Why she’d decided to go to the University of Alabama, which turned out to be a side effect of wanderlust, and he found her ability to make a decision like that and leave inspiring, especially when he often felt . . . trapped here, with his name and his legacy. He’d learned about the first time she saw a full-bodied apparition, and he was fascinated by the way she leaned forward when she spoke about it and the way her eyes lit with interest and eagerness. The excitement in her gaze and tone did the most inappropriate things to him.

Sitting in Firеstones, he became hard—so hard hе’d spread his legs as far as hе could. That physical reaction made dinner fairly uncomfortable, but hе wouldn’t have changed a damn thing.

And nеvеr once during this was he borеd or distractеd by anything going on in his lifе or with his family. That part of him that had to . . . do things to ensurе thе safety of his family didn’t exist whеn he was with hеr, but strangеly, hе wanted hеr to sее that part of him, too.

Placing thе dessert mеnu on thе table, she glanced up and hеr gazе flickerеd away from him for a half second and thеn rеturnеd. “Pеoplе are staring again.”

Hе picked up his glass of water as he glanced around the rеstaurant. Therе were a few stares, mainly from those who wеre familiar with him. “I think thеy’re just curious.”

“Because you coming herе and eating food is something to bе curious about?” she asked.

Dev grinned. “Bеcause me coming hеrе with someone as bеautiful as you is somеthing to bе curious about.”

“Oh that was smooth.” Rosie laughеd softly as shе reached for hеr wineglass.

Hе liftеd a brow. “It was, wasn’t it?”

“Yеs, but I know what Sabrina looks like. Shе’s bеautiful.”

“I guеss you could say that.” Hе lifted a shoulder. “But whatеvеr beauty that woman possesses is only skin-dееp. She’s . . .”

“What?” Rosiе asked.

Dеv drеw in a shallow brеath as hе placеd his water back down. Thеy were in one of the more privatе booths, wherе their conversation wouldn’t be overheard.

Hеr teеth moved on her lower lip again. “You don’t have to answеr that. I’m sorry—”

“She was in love with Gabе,” he answered. “Well, obsеssed with him. Ever sincе collеge.”

Rosie’s еyеs widеned. “Sеriously?”

“You didn’t know that?” hе asked, curious. “I’m surprised Nikki hadn’t told you.”

“Nikki doеsn’t talk about that kind of stuff.” Rosie knockеd thе curl back out of hеr face. “I havе to ask. If you knеw shе was into Gabе, then why in the hеll did you stay with hеr?”

And there was the million-dollar quеstion. His gazе dropped to thе tea light candlе. “It’s a long story.”

“Wе havе timе, right?”

A faint smilе curved his lips. “Wе do.” There was a quick pause. “How much did Nikki tell you about Gabe’s past?”

“You’rе talking about his son and the mothеr of his child? I think she died in a car accident a few months ago? I can’t remеmber hеr name, but yeah, I know about that.”

“Her name was Emma. Thеy had this on-again, off-again relationship that was pretty intеnse. Something happened to hеr in college. Shе was assaultеd.”

“No,” she whisperеd, placing hеr hands in hеr lap.

Dev noddеd. “Gabе had a pretty strong reaction to it—to thе guy who hurt Emma. It did not end wеll.” Hе pausеd, lifting his gaze to Rosiе’s. Hе waitеd to sеe if she had a rеsponsе to that. Rosie was a smart woman. She knew what Dеv was alluding to, and othеr than the initial rеaction to the nеws, shе wasn’t throwing hеr napkin down and rushing out of thе rеstaurant. “Emma must’ve sharеd that with Sabrina.”

“Why would she do that? Didn’t she know how Sabrina felt about Gabe?”

“Emma was a very kind soul, thе sort of person who nеver met a stranger,” Dev repliеd, thinking of the woman. “She believed the best in people, and unfortunately that didn’t always work out for her. Her trusting Sabrina gave Sabrina the upper hand. She knew things about Gabe that could be a problem, and Lawrence was pushing for a Harrington to marry a de Vincent, even back then. Sabrina wanted Gabe and would’ve used what she knew to force him. He would’ve been stuck with her, and that was . . . unacceptable to me.”

Her brows snapped together. “Wait a second. Did you . . . ?” She placed her hands on the table. “Did you agree to be with her so she’d stop going after Gabe?”

Uncomfortable, he shifted in his seat. “I was with her because I believed that the merger of our business with her family’s would be a smart endeavor.”

“And because it got her attentions off of Gabe?” she insisted.

“Well, I thought it did, but it really didn’t in the end. Sabrina was still obsessed with Gabe. You know what happened between Nikki and Parker.” He picked up his water. “And it’s worse than that.”

“How can anything be worse than Parker attacking Nikki?” she whispered.

“Parker said something to Nikki during that attack that leaves us with the impression they had something to do with Emma’s accident.”

She folded her hand over her mouth. “Dear God . . .”

“Luckily, Parker is no more and I . . . I don’t think Sabrina is going to be a problem any longer.”

“Did you all go to the police with that information?” she asked and then immediately rolled her eyes. “That’s right. The de Vincents don’t go to the police.”

“Not usually. Besides, none of us wanted Nikki involved any more than necessary and Parker is dead and Sabrina—”

“Is somewhere out there?” She picked up her wineglass. “She shouldn’t be out there, waiting to become someone else’s nightmare.”

“I agree, but I just learned that Sabrina is dead. The news hasn’t broken yet, but I’m sure it will shortly.”

“What?” Her eyes widened.

Dev told her a somewhat edited version of what had been told to him. “I don’t know what happened to her,” he said, and even though that was partly the truth, there was a festering of guilt. Something he’d never quite felt before.

“I don’t know what to say. I feel for her and Parker’s family, but I can’t . . . I can’t find any sympathy in me for her or her brother. Both sounded like terrible human beings.” She took a sip. “Does Gabe know this? Why you really were with her?”

“Like I said, I was—”

“What you said is bullshit, Devlin. Maybe a part of the reason was because of her family’s companies, but you were trying to save your brother from a terrible future . . . by sacrificing your own. That’s pretty . . . amazing.”

Feeling his face heat, he looked away. “I’m not a white knight, Rosie. Or some kind of selfless human being.”

“I know.” She studied him for a moment. “There’s still something I don’t understand. If Sabrina was obsessed with Gabe, why would she be with you? I mean no offense, but—”

“No offense taken.” Dev had to really think about how to answer a question he wasn’t quite sure about himself. “I think . . . I think Sabrina thought by marrying me she’d be close to Gabe. That the proximity would eventually work in her favor. Sounds utterly ridiculous.”

“It does.” Rosie nodded.

“But she obviously didn’t see things the way they truly were. Sabrina was spoiled by her parents. So was Parker. I guess she thought she’d eventually get her way.” He lifted a shoulder. “Other than that? I honestly don’t know.”

Rosie stared at him for a long moment and then whispered, “All you . . . all you rich people are just weird. Legit weird.”

It happened.

Just a small curve of his lips, but it quickly turned into a grin that became a smile. Dev laughed. Tipped his head back and laughed loudly and he didn’t care who saw him or heard him.

She was grinning at him when he looked back at her. “You have a nice laugh,” she said. “You should do it more often.”

“Yeah, I should,” he said, aware of eyes on them again. “So, what I told you doesn’t bother you?”

Rosie didn’t answer immediately. “I feel like that’s a loaded question.”

“It is.”

The curl fell back across her cheek. “I try not to judge people, especially when it involves bad things happening to bad people. Maybe that makes me a bad person, but I can’t get too torn up over a rapist meeting an unsavory end.”

Surprise flickered through him. “Really?”

She lifted a shoulder. “I have this weird opinion on that kind of thing that a lot of people don’t agree with. I mean, I think there are some people who’ve forfeited their rights to live once they’ve taken another life or have done something heinous that goes beyond human decency, but at the same time, I wonder if any human has the right to decide to take another life. I go back and forth on this. I think . . . I think sometimes it’s understandable that when someone they care about is hurt horribly that a person has a break—they snap. Psychosis is a real thing and good people experience it under extreme distress. And people are weird.”

That appeared to be an understatement.

“Some of the most popular books and movies and television shows feature vigilante justice, whether it’s the ordinary everyday person next door or a superhero. People love that stuff, where the bad guys get taken down through violence or the legal system. And yeah, it’s fiction or made up, but what people enjoy speaks to their basic desires and fantasies. When you have a parent that goes after a molester, that parent is cheered. I mean, look at the Old Testament. An eye for an eye and all that jazz. That doesn’t mean going out there and killing people is okay, but I don’t know . . . like I said, sometimes you can understand why someone has done that. People are weird and they are complicated.” Rosie glanced at him. “A lot of things exist within a gray area. Some people just don’t want to acknowledge that.”

Dev wasn’t sure what to say.

“Anyway, the dessert here looks amazing, but I am stuffed.” Her lips twitched as she grinned. “That was a bizarre change of subject, right?”

He barked out a short laugh. “It worked, though. By the way, chocolate is my weakness.”

She lifted a brow. “Really?”

His lips twitched. “Yes. I try to eat healthy, but you put a chocolate bar in front of me, I’ll eat all of it.”

Rosie grinned. “I still can’t picture you eating pralines or having a hidden stash of chocolate in your drawer.”

“You’d be surprised.”

Her gaze met his again and held. “So, dessert?”

Dev knew what kind of dessert he wanted and it was nothing that was offered on the menu.

“I don’t want dessert,” he said.

Rosie didn’t look away. “What do you want?”

“I want you to come home with me.”

There wasn’t a moment of hesitation. “Yes.”

Rosie had never seen the de Vincent mansion at night. Granted, she’d only ever seen the section Gabe lived in and the part Richard had led her to when she’d brought the items she’d found in the closet to Devlin.

She’d asked about those things on the drive to his home, if he’d found out anything about them. He’d told her that he’d been able to get the iPad charged and unlocked, but he didn’t elaborate beyond that. Rosie didn’t sense that he was holding back because of distrust, but more like it wasn’t something he wanted to talk about right then, and for that, she couldn’t blame him. Their conversation had already gotten pretty dark during dinner, and now she didn’t want any more darkness to seep into their night.

And while there was definitely no love lost between Devlin and Sabrina, she suspected he was still processing news of her death.

When she walked out of the garage and waited for Devlin to join her, she couldn’t get over how quiet it was here. “This is kind of crazy.”

“What is?” Devlin joined her.

She scanned the lit grounds. A floodlight had kicked on when they neared the garage and there was landscaping lighting dotting the property. There were outdoor lights placed between the windows of all the floors, casting a soft, muted glow that gave just enough light for you to find your way. Even now, she could see all the ivy climbing the home. “It’s just so quiet.”

“A circus would be quiet compared to what you must hear every night where you live.”

Rosie laughed as she glanced at him. He stood with his back to the shadows and it was almost like he could seep right into them, vanishing. “True, but listen. I don’t even hear insects or animals.”

Devlin was quiet for a moment. “Huh. You’re right. I’ve never noticed that before.”

“Really?” Rosie figured that was something you’d notice right away. “How can you not notice that?”

“I grew up here,” he reminded her. “This is normal to me.”

That was a good point, but Rosie still couldn’t suppress the shiver that danced over her skin. It was common for animals and insects to avoid places with a lot of spirit activity.

Without saying a word, Devlin took her hand and led her to the back outdoor staircase. His hand was cool against hers, the grip firm, and for some reason, she found herself grinning like she was sixteen again just because he was holding her hand.

“Dinner was nice,” she said as they climbed the wide steps.

“Just nice?”

“Okay. It was more than just nice.”

He squeezed her hand and she felt that in her chest. “I’m waiting.”

She looked over at him as they reached the third flight of stairs. “For what?”

“For you to admit that you were wrong.”

“What exactly was I wrong about?”

There was almost a teasing tone to his voice as he said, “You thought I was going to regret the dinner and it was going to be an absolute failure.”

She dipped her chin, grinning. “I didn’t think it would be an absolute failure.”

Reaching the third level, he let go of her hand as he pressed his finger to some kind of contraption above the lock. There was a clicking motion and the door unlocked. Super high-tech, right there. “Still waiting,” he said as he opened the door and stepped inside, flipping on the light.

“Okay. You’re right.” Rosie laughed as she followed him in. “Happy now?”

“Yes.” He tossed his car keys on a narrow, dark wood entry table. “Do you want anything to drink?”

“I’m fine,” she said, looking around as she placed her beaded clutch on the table beside his keys. His living area was the same size as Gabe’s and followed the same minimalistic design. There was a couch and a large TV mounted to the wall. With the exception of the entryway table and the end table, there was nothing else. No paintings. No additional seats. “You don’t have a lot of guests, do you?”

“No.” A small smile appeared as he made his way to a kitchen area outfitted with all the typical kitchen stuff. There was a fully stocked bar, and he picked up a bottle of what appeared to be bourbon. “Do you mind if I pour myself a drink?”

“Of course not.”

He turned back to the bar. “Is it obvious that I don’t have a lot of guests?”

“Well, you only have a couch and one barstool at the bar, so . . . yeah, it’s obvious.” She laughed.

“There’s not many people I want in my personal space.” He poured himself a drink and then placed the bottle back. “I want you here, though.”

Her breath caught as he turned to face her. “Why?”

“I like you, Rosie.” He came around the bar. “And I don’t like a lot of people.”

She snorted as she tucked a curl back behind her ear. “Never would’ve guessed that.”

He chuckled. “Do you want to see the rest?”

Rosie nodded.

Sipping from his glass, he turned to his left and started down a narrow hall. The walls there were also bare. “You know what the first thing I liked about you was?”

“My shining personality?”

“Shockingly no,” he replied, and she grinned at his back. “It was the peonies.”

“Ah.”

He opened the door at the end of the hall. “It was kind of you to do that. You were kind.”

“So, you now believe that I didn’t know who you were?”

“I should’ve believed you then,” he said, stepping aside. “This is, obviously, a bedroom.”

That it was, and she knew that only because of the large king-size bed in the middle of the room. But like with the living area, there was nothing personal about the nightstands or the long, narrow bureau. No photos or paintings. There wasn’t even a book on the nightstand or a piece of clothing lying on the bed.

“Do you actually live here?” she asked, turning to him.

“What?”

“Do you live here?” she repeated, gesturing to the room with a wide sweep of her arm. “I mean, it’s a beautiful room, but it’s empty. There’s nothing . . . intimate about it.”

Devlin stared at her for a moment and then said, “That’s the second thing I like about you.”

Her brows lifted.

“You speak your mind.” He walked over to the bed and sat down. “You’re not afraid to say anything to me. Even if you know I won’t like it or if it’s uncomfortable to hear, you speak your mind.”

“Most people don’t like that.”

“Most people are idiots.”

A laugh burst from her. “Wow.”

“It’s the truth.” He lifted a shoulder and took a drink. “You stand up to me. You get in my face. You tell me what I don’t want to hear but maybe need to. That is . . . unique in my experience.”

She glanced to the curtained French doors that led out onto the balcony and then her gaze fell back to him. “You’re starting to make me feel special.”

His gaze lifted to hers. “You are special.”

Feeling her cheeks warm, she inched closer to him. “Thank you.”

Devlin didn’t look away as he took another drink. “Probably the most special thing about you is even after how I behaved toward you, you’re still standing here. I’ve given you very little reason to be here, right now, with me.”

“That’s not true.” Drawing in a shallow breath, she walked over to him and stopped in front of him. “Yeah, there were a lot of times that I didn’t like you. At all.”

He was silent as he stared up at her.

“But I . . . I always felt like there was more to you than just being an arrogant asshole.”

A grin tugged at his lips.

“There. That small smile.” She plucked his glass out of his hand and placed it on the nightstand. “The first time you smiled in front of me, the first time you laughed, I could tell it wasn’t something you did often.”

“You’re very observant.”

“I am.” She placed her hands on his shoulders and then sat in his lap, straddling him. He made this low growl as his hands came to her hips. “We didn’t get along, but there were moments when we did, and during those moments, I . . . I liked you. A lot.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah.” She lifted her hands to his face and dragged her fingertips along his jaw. “I still like you a lot and I know . . . I know that liking you isn’t always going to be easy, but I want . . .”

His hands tightened on her hips. “You want what?”

“You’re a lot of things.” She cupped the back of his head. “And I want you. All of you.”

“You have me.” He ran his thumb over her smooth cheek, tracing the bone. His touch was featherlight, but she stirred restlessly in his lap. Lust pricked her skin. He moved his fingertips down her throat, over her shoulder. A small sigh escaped her.

Slowly, he moved his hand to the neckline of her gown, his palm pressing against the swell of her breast. “You have all of me,” he said.

Rosie placed her hand on his side, moving it toward his back, kneading the cords of bunched muscles. He caught her wrists and replaced them on his chest. Before that could fully register, he dropped his hand to her hip and tugged her down and against him. All soft curves pressed against hard lines. His erection, straining against his trousers, pressed against her core, and when he moved her against him in a slow, undulating grind, she gasped and stiffened.

“I want you.” He rocked his hips again. His next words came out as a low, harsh growl. “I want all of you tonight.”

Her hips rolled down, and he lowered his head, moving his lips across the cheek he’d caressed moments before. “Then take me.”

His remaining hand slid up the flare of her hip, up her stomach. He stopped just below her breasts, his thumb brushing over the swell. Her breath caught as his kisses reached the corner of her mouth. She turned her head slightly. Their lips brushed.

“And if I want to keep you?”

Her fingers curled into his shirt as she rocked against him. “I will have to take that under consideration.”

“Or I just need to work harder at convincing you?” He dipped his head to the space between her neck and shoulder. Lowering his hands to her hips, he nuzzled her neck. He let his hand stray higher, nearly reaching the peak of her breast, and then his hand closed over her breast, the heat of his skin searing her through the thin material of her dress and bra.

Her back arched, pressing her breast into his grasp. He answered, pushing the material aside, exposing her bra. He smoothed his thumb over the taut pebble.

His eyes remained latched on to hers as he teased her nipple through the cloth. She moved her other hand down his chest, and her stomach muscles tightened. “I need to see you, touch you . . . taste you.”

His words sent a dark shudder through her. “Yes.”

Moving his hand down, he slipped it under her dress and then lifted the material up. She lifted her arms, and within seconds, the dress was lying on the floor. His sharp intake of breath was lost when he found the clasp on the back of her bra and unhooked it. That, too, joined the dress on the floor.

“You are so beautiful.” He lowered his head, flicking his tongue over one pert nipple.

She moaned as both of her hands now clutched his sides. And then she was tugging his shirt up. He chuckled as he pulled away from her aching breast and helped her get the shirt off. Her eyes devoured every inch of his exposed skin. He was ripped, satin stretched over rock-hard muscles. Her hands flattened against his lower stomach, and his muscles bunched.

Rosie lifted her gaze as her fingers trailed over each hard ripple. “You’re perfect.”

“I am far from perfect.” He moved his hand to her other breast. His tongue swirled over the nipple. “That’s something you need to know.”

Her head went back as her breath came out in short gasps. “Perfection isn’t a constant state.”

He drew the rosy peak into his mouth as he caught her other nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

“God,” she moaned, rolling her hips against him. “See, this is perfect.”

Desire swirled inside her, leaving her feeling out of control and dazed. Why did she feel this way? Was it more than lust? But then his mouth tugged on her breast and his tongue rasped over her nipple, and she stopped thinking. It was all about feeling and the raw, exquisite sensations shooting down to her core, warming and dampening her. All she knew was that she wanted every part of him, the smooth, chiseled edges along with all the rough, frayed ends.

Her hands slipped over rock-hard abs that dipped and rippled. Masculine perfection. Her hips rocked against the thick length pressed against her core. God, he was huge .

He lifted her suddenly and turned, placing her in the center of the bed. Her heart raced as she rose onto her elbows and watched him shuck off his pants and tight boxer briefs. Within moments, he was naked and she . . . she was still wearing her heels. She started to sit up, but he caught her ankle.

“Keep them on,” he ordered in a smoky, thick voice.

Her stomach twisted.

Devlin reached for the nightstand. A drawer opened and a condom landed on the bed beside her. He climbed over her and then lowered himself onto his side beside her.

Reaching for him, she gasped when he caught her hands and pinned them to the bed. He shifted over her and then he let go of her wrists, letting his hands trail down her arms and over her breasts as he worked his way down. When he caught her nipple between his teeth, she cried out again, wantonly rolling her hips against his hardness. Tension between her legs built quickly, stealing her breath, shocking her. She’d never come this way before, but oh—oh sweet Jesus —the coil tightened deep inside her womb. Her movements became almost frantic. His growl of approval burned her skin, igniting the fire as he lifted his head to stare down at her.

She reached for him again, but this time she ran her fingers along his smooth jawline. Their eyes met, and her throat tightened with unexpected emotion.

He dipped his head as his hand slipped down her stomach, resting just below her navel. “You make me want . . . so much, Rosie. You have no idea.”

She lifted her head, brushing her lips against his. “Show me.”

His large, powerful body shuddered beside her, and hot, sweet darts of fire sped through her blood. Her lashes lowered and her breath caught in her throat as his hand slipped farther down, gently palming her.

“There’s just one problem.” He kissed her and then pulled back. His tongue slid over her lips, then inside, matching the slow, languid thrust with his fingers. Tremors started in her stomach. Muscles quivered.

“What problem?” she gasped.

“When I want something, I don’t let it go.” He tormented her until she moved her hips against his hand, but anytime she tried to get more, to take control, he nipped her lip, her throat. “Ever.”

That one word stirred so many raw emotions in her that for a moment she was lost. A small, keening whimper escaped her as her release came out of nowhere. Devlin pulled her to him, holding her close as her body shuddered. Sweat coated his skin, muscles taut and rigid from holding back. And then he turned her around, easing her onto her side. He used his thigh to separate hers. She arched her back, grinding her rear against the length of his erection. “What if I don’t have an issue with your problem?”

“Don’t make a promise you won’t keep.” His warm breath danced over her cheek. He cupped her breast, running his thumb over the hard nipple.

Her breath was quickening. “I don’t make promises I don’t plan on keeping.”

Devlin slowly slid into her, inch by inch. It had been a while, so it took a few moments for him to stretch her, but when he did, she felt so unbelievably full. He was moving so deep that she felt like she’d come apart in a shower of sparks. The steady friction sent her body blazing. Slow and steady strokes soon became not enough. More—she wanted more. She moved her hips, and his low growl had her blood pressure skyrocketing.

“Harder,” she whispered. “Please.”

The things he whispered in her ear as he shifted her onto her knees and thrust into her from behind, each stroke harder and faster than the one before, could probably be classified as depraved, but they excited her. Every thrust mounted her pleasure and deepened her cries. And when she started to spasm around his cock, he caught her chin and forced her head back and to the side, claiming her mouth with his as he spent himself.

“God, that was . . .” He dropped his forehead against her shoulder and shuddered again. “That was fucking amazing.”

“Hey,” she murmured as she wrapped her arm through his. “We agree on something again.”

Devlin laughed quietly against her shoulder and then he lifted his head, kissing her cheek. “I’ll be right back.”

She pouted as he pulled away from her and rose from the bed. Not one to miss a prime opportunity of seeing him in all his glorious nakedness, she rolled onto her back. The first thing she saw was that unbelievably firm ass that just begged her to take a bite out of it, but then she lifted her gaze.

“My God,” she gasped, jerking upright.

Devlin halted, looking over his shoulder at her. Realization dawned in his shadowy expression. He whipped around, but it was too late. She’d already seen.

“Your back,” she said, scooting to the edge of the bed. His back was a mess of scars, old faded scars that crisscrossed over one another, forming a disturbing map of what could only be one thing. “Dear God, Devlin, what happened to you?”