Free Dante's Fire by Jennifer Probst Page A

and touched the edge of the soft mask, tracing the outline of his eyes, his mouth, over his dark brows. He stiffened beneath her touch.
    "You don't need to know."
    "I know. But I want to know. Do you help all women who have been hurt?"
    She watched him struggle, deciding whether or not to answer the question. He took the opportunity to begin touching her again, but this time when he caressed her shoulders and the top of her breasts, no image assaulted her vision. Just the tightening of desire for more.
    "Yes. I have no control over where I'm sent. It can happen anytime, but it's usually at night. I'm pulled into the scene. Most of the time, I get there to stop the attack. Once in a while, I'm there too late." Shadows stole his vision for a moment, and Selina glimpsed a deep pain that was a part of who he was. "I help them. Stay with them during the nightmares. Transition them to heal."
    "Do you make love to them?"
    The question popped out of her mouth before she could stop it. Still, she waited for the answer, knowing it wouldn't change her opinion of him. Knowing he would do anything to replace violence with light.
    "No." His gaze burned into hers. "I hold them. Let them get familiar with a man's touch again. Take away the fear. But I've never made love to a woman who needed my help. It’s against the rules."
    “Rules? Tell me.”
    He hesitated. Selina had a strange feeling he rarely talked to anyone about his abilities or limitations. She waited for him to ignore the question or tell her he couldn’t answer. Instead, he spoke.
    “When I was young and came into my powers, I was reckless. Angry. The first time, I struck out at the attackers of a young girl with too much force.” His lips tightened. “I killed him.”
    She kept quiet, hoping to offer her own comfort by the light caress of his hand over her back. “He deserved it.”
    “Perhaps. But it was against the rules. Afterward, my father came to me in a dream. He said I must always obey the balance of life, and never take justice into my own hands. That is for God to decide. Rule number one is ironclad. I am not allowed to take a life, not matter how I feel. I began to work harder to control my anger and I’ve never slipped again.”
    Selina wondered how he lived with the violence and hurt on a daily basis. Yet, there was so much gentleness in his touch, in his eyes, in his heart. Tenderness rose up like a wave and drowned her. “It’s so much responsibility to take on,” she murmured. “So much pain to experience on behalf of healing others.”
    He jerked back. His fingers tightened around her shoulder and he let out a shaky breath. “Thank you,” he said softly. The gratitude on his face broke her heart. As if he’d never come in contact with someone who understood.
    “What are the other rules?”
    “I can only save one woman at a time, and I never know when the healing process is complete. Usually, I’m connected with the woman until she reaches a point she no longer needs me. I sense when she needs me, and I’m able to appear by her side, wherever she is.”
    “So you don’t choose to come for these midnight visits?” she asked carefully. “You’re automatically dragged through some sort of time travel tunnel?”
    “A bond forms at the time of rescue. My duty is to stay with her through the healing process.”
    Humiliation cut through her. She didn’t know why the idea of him not choosing to come to her sliced deep. Like she was some type of mercy project for him. Duty . Dear God, was this all it was to him? Her muscles stiffened and she began to pull back.
    “Selina, no, you misunderstand.” He caressed her cheek. “I go because I want to. Your pain calls to me, and I’m only pulled in because I need to be close. Don’t you understand? As much as you think you need me, I need you more.”
    A fierce need rose up inside of her, swallowing the fear and hesitation. She wanted him. Craved him. His words and his heat seemed to burn her