Dance Of Devils

Four - Nadia

  "Get your ass in here now, Miss Regarza," he demanded, the rough edge of his voice making her toes curl despite her growing irritation. When she stayed put, Lorenzo raised his eyebrow in the mirror, daring her to stay put and find out the consequences.

  She smirked, amused that he thought his own actions for the day would go without consequence either, and sauntered towards him, then past him, peeling off her clothes as she went, heading straight into the shower. She heard him groan behind her, walking into the spray of water already blistering hot waiting for her.

  "Crafty bastard," she muttered, letting it wash over her, taking with it the grime and dried blood, knowing he had let it run on for her, awaiting her return.

  The small assassin stayed under that hot spray until the water ran clean once more, then an extra fifteen minutes just to be sure, scrubbing delicately at her aching muscles, careful to avoid her deeper wounds. She stayed under the water until she had no more excuse to continue and exitted to find a towel warmed and waiting for her. She tried not to completely melt at the simple acts Lorenzo was doing, but the thought, simple as it was, had her in bits.

  She wrapped it tightly around her body, walking on the heated tiles to Lorenzo, who stood leaning against the 'his and hers' sinks, still only wrapped in his towel. His focus wasn't on her, instead, it was pinned to his hands, shaking as he tried to re-dress his wound.

  Nadia wished she hadn't noticed, wished for a second she could ignore how it hurt to see that slight shake of his hand. Then, with her heart aching in his pain, she fell a little deeper in love with him. For letting her see every side of him, the broken and the wonderful. Sharing parts of him she knew the world would never see. But here, just the two of them, the rest of the world locked outside of the bedroom door, he laid it all bare for her to see, as she did for him.

  The assassin's hands worked on their own accord, taking the gauze from his hands and covering his side swiftly, as he had once so delicately done for her, her fingers lingering against his skin, reaching up, pressing her palm to his chest. A heartbeat, strong and steady met her and a breath loosed from her body.

  Lorenzo moved his hands to her face once she had finished caring for him, brushing away a few strands of hair that had fallen into her eyes, thumbs caressing the tops of her cheeks. "Let me see," he rumbled, tilting her chin up to look at him.

  "I promise you, I am fine," she breathed, taking in the feel of his hands, warm and steady on her skin, the furrow of his brow as he inspected the cut on her head, then the one on her neck. He kept his hands firmly away from her throat and she could sense how much he wanted to reach out and touch it as if his touch could take away her pain, but she was so thankful he didn't. Nadia was many things; brutal, savage, careless at times, a murderer. But, with him, she could let herself feel, let herself be human, feel her terror and work through it. With him.

  She could do it all with him at her side.

  "Show me," he demanded again, knowing there was more that he couldn't see. Nadia bristled slightly at his demand, not ready to show him. Yet his eyes warmed with patience, a soft kiss pressing against her lips and that apprehension melted. She unwrapped her towel and took a step back, showing him where the bullet had caught her side, just brushing along the skin.

  "Twins," she whispered, the joke falling flat when she took in the look on his face.

  "Why?" He demanded softly. He wasn't asking her why she was injured, he wasn't stupid enough to think she would come out of their attack completely unscathed, but she saw the hurt in his eyes the question of why she had abandoned him, let him worry.