Page 51 of Burn for Me

“—an order, then obey the bloody command!” I finish my sentence, intentionally ignoring her statement. I don’t need saving; she should know that by now.

“Understood,Lieutenant,” she replies sarcastically. She tries to turn her attention back to the window, but I grip her jaw, forcing her to look at me.

“Goddamn it. Don’t you realize you could've died?!”I snap, focusing on the pretty pink curve of her lips. I half expect her to hit me or yell some more, but nothing happens. Quickly, I release her and grip the steering wheel instead. I’d much rather have a screaming match than deal with this silence. I just need to provoke her a little, and she’ll snap, just like always.

“Of course, you knew. I tried to warn Caspian that someone with a constant death wish wasn’t fit for this mission.”

"You could have died!” she exclaims, her voice echoing inside the car. But it doesn’t have the sharpness I expect; instead, it wavers. I don’t like that sound—it feels as if I’m hurting her in a way I never intended. My brows furrow as I try to hold my tongue, stopping myself from saying anything that might provoke that reaction again. My fingers flex against the wheel as it slowly dawns on me that she’s worried aboutme. Suddenly, Sharkie’s incisive rambling makes sense, and I glance at the dark pavement rushing past, trying to rationalize all the times Jasmine flirted with danger, dismissing them as mere carelessness. Regardless of the situation, they all share acommon factor that I’d rather not admit out loud.I’ve been there—each time.

I knew she cared somewhere deep down, but not to this extent. I don’t deserve any more than what she's been giving me—the occasional bedroom eyes and a whole lot of resentment. She doesn’t understand who I am or what I’m capable of. She doesn’t realize that I don’t deserve her care, her lo—

Suddenly, I swerve around Jonathan's car, and he mimics the motion, interrupting my thoughts.

“It doesn't matter. Don't pull that shit again.” I say, my voice barely audible over the sound of spinning tires and the occasional blaring of horns.

She doesn't respond; instead, she brushes her finger under her lashes to calm her breathing. I'm barely parked in front of the hotel when the passenger door is thrown open, and she stumbles while pulling off her heels and rushing towards the entrance.

“Jasmine!” I growl, tossing my door open hard enough to knock into the valet. She doesn't stop, so I’m forced to storm through the lobby like a madman, desperate to get her attention.

“Jasmine fuckin’ Morana!” I raise my voice a little louder as I stop at the main desk. Straightening my shoulders, I run my hand over the front of my suit and grin. However, my brief feeling of triumph quickly fades when she turns and hurls one of her heels in my direction before angrily stomping away.

“Ma’am, we can't throw things in the lobby!” the woman behind the desk calls out, and I grimace in response. I don’t think that was a wise choice of words; the poor girl hasn’t realized that my wife has a bit of a temper, and she's already on her shit list.

“Piss off!” Jasmine yells as she kicks off her other shoe, waving it in the air like she might throw it, too. Bending over, I pick up the poorly tossed heel, muttering a few unnecessary curses under my breath. I rush to the elevator and grip her wrist. Thesudden motion of my fingers wrapping around her delicate arm prevents her from smashing the button with her thumb as if she’s imagining it's my eye instead.

“Knock it off,” I warn quietly, but she suddenly spins around, yanking her arm away and putting her hands on her hips. It’s like I’ve been hit with a shockwave, frozen in place, completely taken in by the amazing sight in front of me. Jasmine’s eyes are burning with a fire I’ve never seen before; her chest rises and falls with every breath, making her dress hug her body just right.

“You're not my dad.” She grits her teeth, pushing her heel into my chest. “You’re my husband, so act like it.”

Hearing the word “husband” come out of her mouth shouldn’t feel this good, but here I am, biting my lip to hide how it hits me. I got so wrapped up in our earlier fight that I almost forgot we’re playing a role here, but when she rolls her eyes, I pull myself back together.

“He touched your bloody arse! How do you expect me to react!” I snap back, and her bottom lip quivers as tears well up in her eyes. I don’t know why it affects me so much, especially knowing she’s putting on a show, but without thinking, my hand reaches out to touch her.

“Don’t—”

The elevator dings, and she steps in before I can finish speaking, prompting me to follow her inside. I press my chest against her back and watch her reflection in the metal doors. Typically, I appreciate the silence because it allows the screams in my head to escape, but today, they’re absent. Instead, my thoughts are solely focused on her tense posture, the conflicting emotions playing across her face, and the faint scent of smoke clinging to her skin.

The longer I stare at her disgusted expression, the more I realize how much I can trust her with my life. She has proven herself time and again. Whether it's those late nights when shestops me from losing myself with a punching bag or when she follows me into a building where she has no reason to be just to ensure I’m not hurt.

She’s always there.

Before I know it, one of my arms wraps around her waist while my other hand moves up her torso to cover her mouth. She tenses and glances at me in the mirror, her focus shifting between my gaze and my hand, in sync with the elevator dings as we pass each floor. I wish she could see herself as I do, recognizing the beauty behind the mask I give her rather than the one she wears for everyone else.

Holding her gaze, I tuck my head into the crook of her neck and breathe her in. “You’re in a lot of trouble, little devil.”

The elevator stops on our floor, and she quickly turns to face me, panic evident on her features.

“Please don’t get me kicked out. I’m sorry—”

“Go.” I cut her off, but she continues to ramble, looking over her shoulder to ensure no one is listening.

“I couldn’t leave you—”

I pull the other shoe from her hand, effectively silencing her again. She turns, her head bowed into her chest. I can tell she’s caught off guard and doesn’t know what to expect. This is new. Having hidden eyes and ears doesn’t help my case for everything I want to say, but it certainly isn’t stopping me from doing what I want.

As we approach our door and I unlock it, she rushes inside, heading straight for the bedroom as if it will keep her safe. I’ve always loved a good chase, especially when it comes to her, but I’ve waited too long for this.Nothing will protect her from my demons—me.

I give her a moment to think she’s in the clear while I kick off my shoes and place them in the small entry closet alongside her heels. I pause mid-motion, contemplating letting the intel out ofmy sight. However, it's unlikely anyone would dare to walk into our room, so I pull the files from my pants and tuck them into one of our duffle bags so they won’t get in my way.

---