Free Inferno by Adriana Noir Page A

have been a simple choice—but in the end—it really wasn’t.
    ~*~*~*~
     
    Taylor stirred, sensing she was no longer alone. Struggling to sit up, she smoothed her hands over her hair and straightened the blanket as her eyes darted around the room, trying to assess how long she’d been sleeping. The day had been as boring as it was long. There was only so much daytime television a person could stomach before they wanted to gouge their eyes out or stuff their ears full of cotton. By three, she’d opted to shut off the madness and lose herself between the pages of a book, but the small print made her head throb and the hours had continued to creep by.
    She glanced up as Sebastian’s broad shoulders and lean form filled the doorway. The soft golden light spilling from the hall fell across his shoulders and played on the damp auburn highlights of his curls as he leaned against the archway and studied her. Gone was the long scruff that had covered his cheeks. A respectable five o’clock shadow stretched across his upper lip and chin in its stead, and the warm, chocolaty scent of his body spray lingered in the room between them. The sight of him filled her with an instant longing to close the distance and ease the loneliness that had consumed her for most of the day.
    “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
    “It’s okay. I’m glad you’re home.” Smiling, she patted the seat beside her. He didn’t budge.
    “Did you eat yet?”
    Picking at the corner of the blanket, she lowered her eyes and shrugged. “Not yet. I was going to call something in, but I must’ve nodded off.”
    His stare grew heavy and scrutinizing, but he said nothing. Searching for a way to break the silence, Taylor slowly released the breath she’d been holding.
    “How was work?”
    It seemed rhetorical given his mood, but it was all she had.
    “It was a day,” he said, crossing the room.
    Her wide eyes swung up to his as he settled onto the edge of the chaise lounge beside her. The muscles along his jawline twitched as he traced a finger over the top of her hand.
    “Please, don’t ask about work right now, baby. We can talk about anything. Anything else at all, just not Marx and SKALS. I need somewhere, where even if just for a minute, I don’t have to think about them.”
    He looked so lost and alone. Deep lines creased his forehead, and there was a lingering fear in his eyes that scared the hell out of her. Her throat tightened with her nod. Whatever it was, it wasn’t good. Wrapping her hands around his, she gave them an affectionate squeeze. “Okay.”
    Open relief washed over him, softening his handsome features. Leaning in, he caught her chin and stole a slow, drugging kiss. When he pulled back, he managed a trace of the dimpled smile that she’d come to crave.
    “I don’t know about you,” he murmured, “but I’m starving.”
    His stomach rumbled loudly, as if on cue, prompting them both to laugh.
    “Nice one, Seb,” she teased, nudging his hip.
    His expression hardened, but there was a definite sparkle in his eye as he leaned over her and rested his forehead against hers. “Watch it, darling. Sooner or later, you will be feeling better and there will be no baby between us acting as a buffer.”
    She shivered at the husky menace in his voice. “That sounded an awful lot like a threat, Agent Baas.”
    Releasing a low chuckle, he tipped her face toward his. “Have you learned nothing in our time together? I don’t make threats, Taylor. Only promises.”
    Flushing a little, she hung her head.
    “Get up,” he said, patting her thigh. “If nothing else, you can keep me company while I whip us up something to eat.”
    A small niggling of guilt haunted her as she padded into the kitchen after him. It wasn’t so much that he was cooking; Sebastian often shared in the meal prep and clean up if he was home. It was more the feeling of uselessness hanging over her head. Lingering uncertainly in the broad arch between the kitchen and