Dante hadn't returned. She knew he could take care of himself, but she still worried about him. How could they have a future together when the demon within him constantly warred for control of his body? She couldn't lose him, though. Perhaps she should put on something less revealing to prevent tempting him in case he returned. Where did he go? Was he coming back? He had to. It was just a fight. They would get past it and be as strong as they were before. She heard the front door unlock and open from the other room. Dante was home. He came back to her. She knew he would. Would he want to discuss what happened earlier in the shower between them? She should change. They didn't need a repeat of that episode. His footsteps came down the hall, alerting her to the realization that she wouldn't have time to change out of her lingerie into more modest pajamas. Her heart was in her throat when the bedroom door opened and Dante walked in with a smoldering look that reeked of testosterone. His pupils dilated when he saw what she wore.
