Demon Fire (The Angel Fire Book 3) by Marie Johnston (top 10 novels of all time TXT) 📕

where this shit show ends seemed more exciting than being alone in the mountains for another winter.”

Sandeen’s lips quirked, then he slid his gaze to the base of the stairs. Boone looked over his shoulder. Sierra stopped at the base, hurt glimmering in her eyes.

Shit. Sandeen might not really be a demon, but he was an asshole.

How had Sierra expected him to answer? He might’ve been fighting his attraction since she’d healed and cooked her first pheasant. He might’ve liked her two days ago. How he felt about her today would depend on her state of mind and the secrets she was keeping.

“Did you find the toiletries in the boxes of clothes?” He should’ve turned back to his puzzle, but he’d hurt her feelings.

“Yes.” Her pea-green T-shirt made her look like she’d been fighting morning sickness for years. What an awful color. Despite her pale complexion, the brown leggings she’d put on gave her a petite Robin Hood look. He had a feeling all of the clothing chosen for her would flatter her in the worst of ways. “I’ll shower after I eat. My stomach is . . .”

She put her hand on her belly and dropped it just as fast.

The intuition he’d thought had turned on him years ago came to life. She hadn’t accepted the fact that she was pregnant. She needed medical care. She needed prenatal vitamins. She needed to know what her options were.

He needed to butt the hell out, but he couldn’t. Or he wouldn’t be here.

Millie faced the door to the bedroom. Her wings were lifted and flared. Her determination wavered but the solid hold of her wings didn’t. For weeks she’d thought about what Bryant had said. Weeks. And while she’d sat on her decision, nothing had changed.

Hit him where it hurts. She’d done a lot of thinking on that. She’d considered his work. Herself. His friends. Ultimately, she’d found an underlying current tying them all together.

Pride.

Her mate’s pride was important to him. He’d taken pride in his experience as a warrior, in his job as director, in his role as a mate. He was no longer a warrior. He wasn’t the director. Losing those roles had devastated him more than losing his legs.

But he still had her. The question was—did he still want her?

She loosened the tie to her robe and flung the door open. Leo jerked in the bed and rolled to look at her. Once she’d caught him tossing and turning and he wouldn’t confess why. She finally figured out that he refused to use a pillow between his thighs so he could sleep comfortably on his side.

Her pillow was there. Untouched for months.

Hit him where it hurts.

“Oh, you’re awake.” She went to the curtains she kept closed for him. He’d complained his eyes were sensitive. At the time, she would’ve done anything to keep more pain at bay. But his eyes were going to have to adjust to natural light again. Or he could close the curtains himself.

She swallowed hard, her resolve wavering. Bryant had brought a wheelchair back from the human world. Leo used it—to keep her from emptying a urine container. The bathroom was the only time he got out of bed.

She went to the curtains, fortified her nerves, and flung them open. Light flooded the room and chased away the shadows. The emerald of the lawn was like a carpet that ran to the tall trees that gave her property privacy from the other manors close by. “It’s gorgeous out today.”

“Millie,” Leo croaked. “Close them. Please.”

His wings were limp behind him. He faced the wall with the window and he wouldn’t roll over while she was in the room to witness his struggle.

His pleas almost had her turning around and scrambling to make the room dark once again.

No. She yanked on the tie to her robe and the ends fell apart. She hadn’t worn undergarments on purpose, preparing for this, wondering if she’d have the guts.

“There’s no comparison to sunlight, don’t you agree?” She spun around. The air was so stale in the room, she barely noticed a difference in temperature on her bare skin.

Leo held his hand in front of his eyes. Dang. She hadn’t thought of that. She’d made her big show right after she’d blinded him.

“Millie, the curtains.”

“They were never my favorite.” He’d know something was up. She rambled when she was avoiding talking about what was on her mind. He used to love coaxing it out of her, and his favorite way had been to kiss a path from her ear down her neck to her—

Heat flooded her until her knees almost crumpled. She hadn’t thought about sex in so long. Leo’s healing had been paramount. But they were angels. He’d healed quickly. He couldn’t grow back amputated parts, but he’d healed. His mind needed a nudge—or more. But he wouldn’t get to the more if she didn’t do something drastic. Dragging him to a human psychiatrist wasn’t an option for her kind.

“I think I might change them. Floral. What do you think?” Her body burned. At this point, before, Leo would have known she wasn’t talking and he’d be on her. His strong hands would be circling her waist. He wouldn’t undo her robe, he’d tease her.

She feathered her fingers between her breasts. Had she rambled just to get him to use his talented hands and mouth on her?

Would they be able to play those games again?

“Millie, close the curtains.” He moved his hand and his gaze landed on her. He blinked and ducked his head, like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

“I just love the sunlight.” She trailed her hand down her belly. His bleary brown gaze tracked her. “It’s so warm. Remember when we used to sit on a blanket outside?”

“I can’t get outside.”

“Bullshit.” She bit her lip. She rarely swore. He might have missed that.

His eyes were on hers. No, he hadn’t.

Bolstered, she kept going. “The grass is so soft. Aren’t we lucky in Numen? We can make