She was almost certain that for a moment his glance had flickered to her lips, and for that second, she thought he was going to kiss her. It shocked her just how much she wanted him to. Her chest was heaving, and her nipples were pebbled, and if she was betting girl, she’d put money on Dante having a hard on right now.
But it didn’t happen, and to mask her disappointment she spat venom.
“Shouldn’t you be having this conversation with your brothers?” she asked with wide eyes and saccharine sweetness. “After all, technically, I didn’t touch them at all. It was completely the other way around.”
It was a low blow, she knew. But he’d pissed her off, big time. Still, she felt a moment of guilt as she watched him pale under his tan, his expression betraying a moment of panic before he masked it beneath the trademark scowl she was becoming all too accustomed to.
“They wouldn’t have bothered without you leading them on. But let’s face it, it’s not like they’re spoiled for choice out here. Don’t think you’re anything special, Shyla. There’s just only one option really, isn’t there,” he replied scornfully. Shyla bristled, the veiled insult hitting its mark and dousing her with cold water.
“Don’t worry. They’re big boys. I’m pretty sure they can make their own decisions,” she responded, refusing to let him see he’d hurt her. She would have said more. Riled him and rubbed him the wrong way with her own barbed insults if they hadn’t been interrupted.
“Is there a problem here?” Lazarus said from right behind them.
“No!” They both said at once. Eyes spitting fire as they glared at each other.
Dante shoved her hand away like it had burned him, and Shyla braced herself against the wall as he whirled away and stalked off to busy himself in the kitchen.
“Here, let me help you.” Lazarus came rushing to her side and immediately slipped his arm around her waist to support her back to the bed, where Jericho was just waking up, his sleepy eyes warm and intense as he gazed at her.
But at the same time, she could feel Dante glaring daggers at her back.
“Was he giving you a hard time?” Lazarus asked, quietly.
Shyla shook her head. No matter how Dante riled her, she wasn’t going to be the one who drove a wedge between him and his brothers. “He’s just worried about you,” she replied, giving him a rueful smile. “Jericho explained about his friend Theo.”
“Ah!” Lazarus nodded as he helped her sit down. “Still, he has no right to take that out on you. I’ll have a word with him.”
“Oh no, don’t!” Shyla pleaded. “We’ve all got to co-exist in really close proximity. I don’t want to make things difficult.”
Jericho frowned. “It’s Dante who’s making things difficult, sweetheart, not you.”
“Yeah, well it’s not going to get any better if he thinks we’re all ganging up on him, so just let it go, please,” she implored.
Lazarus and Jericho exchanged a look over her head, but she breathed a sigh of relief when they let the subject drop.
At least the little drama had taken her mind clear off of being embarrassed by what had occurred with these two during the night.
* * *
“Lay off of Shyla,”Lazarus warned his brother when he cornered him in the kitchen area a little while later. He knew Shyla didn’t want him meddling, but there was no way he was going to let it go. Jeri felt the same and was distracting Shyla while Lazarus put Dante straight.
Dante looked at him derisively. “Ha! Come whining to you already, did she? That sounds about right. Stop being such a sap, Lazarus.”
Lazarus’s eyes narrowed dangerously, and he had to fist his hands to stop himself from grabbing Dante by the collar. “Actually, Shyla asked both Jeri and I not to say anything,” Lazarus corrected. “But I overrode that decision because you trying to intimidate her isn’t acceptable. She hasn’t done anything to you, and she doesn’t deserve your disdain.”
“Did you forget what happened to Theo?” Dante hissed, sticking his head in Lazarus’s space. “Why the hell are you taking such stupid risks?
Lazarus went toe to toe with his brother. “No, I didn’t forget Theo,” he growled back, widening his stance. “But I’m also able to keep sight of the fact that none of that had anything to do with Shyla, so stop treating her like she’s the guilty party here.”
Dante glared at him; his lips pressed together so hard they were almost invisible.
“She gave you the chance to get out of here. I’ll take you back down the mountain myself if being here is that much of a hardship for you,” he challenged.
“What and leave Jeri on his own with her? I don’t think so!”
Lazarus looked over Dante’s shoulder to where Jeri had Shyla sitting within the vee of his legs and was running his fingers carefully through her hair as he attempted to get some of the knots and snags out. Every time she winced, he’d lean forward and kiss her temple, or her neck and Shyla would tilt her head to one side to give him better access.
He raised an eyebrow. “Somehow, I don’t think Jeri would mind,” Lazarus remarked, nodding towards the couple in front of the fire.