Eighty Five

Isabella

He is carrying me through the house. I try not to think about how good it feels for Dante to touch me, the warmth of his chest surrounding me after all this time. That is a slippery slope, and no way am I signing up to take that ride again.

My body's reaction to him annoys me. "Put me down," I snap. "You're still covered in blood and sweat."

"No."

I this about smashing this cake in his face, but decided not to. While I would find it satisfying, it would be a waste of great cake.

When we reach the top of the stairs, he turns left instead of right, walking toward his wing of the house. "Where are you going? You went the wrong way."

"You are staying with me from now on."

The absolute nerve. "I want my own room, Dante."

"You will stay in here with me."