Safe In His Arms (Motorcycle Club Romance, New Adult Romance): Devil's Riders (Hot Blooded Heroes) by Joanna Blake Page A

that way exactly… did she? Mrs. Donahue snorted. Sally had a sinking feeling that Mrs. Donahue didn't think much of her at that moment.
                  "Here, take this flashlight. Marie, take Miss Sally out to the workshop."
                  She stood and followed Marie out of the house, hearing Mrs. Donahue muttering.
                  "How a body could be in love with someone and not know the first thing…"
                  Mrs. Donahue had a point.
                  She walked out a well worn path toward a barn about a hundred yards from the house. An enormous willow tree filled the space in front of it. A flat wooden swing hung from one of the sturdy branches above. Marie ran ahead and slid the barn doors open. She flicked a switch and ran back to the tree, hopping onto the swing.
                  Sally watched her on the swing for a minute. The girl was happy. She knew she was safe and loved.
                  Thanks to Donnie.
                  Sally walked into the open barn door and her mouth dropped open. The interior of the barn was modernized, with industrial lamps hanging high above, illuminating the room from corner to corner. There were work tables and heaps of scrap metal everywhere.
                  But most of all, there was art.
                  Huge metal sculptures were everywhere. A motorcycle that looked like it could take flight with the enormous wings spread out from the sides. There was an angel that looked like Marie as well as many abstract but beautiful designs. There was another motorcycle across the room that made a shiver run down her spine. It had horns and a tail, almost like a… no it was… a bike fit for the Devil.
                  How had he managed to make these out of metal? They looked so fluid, like they were molded out of silk. Then she saw the torches lining a high metal rack.
                  Of course. Donnie was a welder. Well, more than that really. He was a metal smith. And an artist.
                  An incredibly talented one.
                  She walked through the barn in awe, with something new to see at every turn.
                  A small figure hanging from the ceiling caught her eye. It was pirouetting, with long copper hair streaming down it's back. It almost looked alive the way it was spinning on it's wire. She stepped closer to get a better look.
                  The figure was a woman. Her head was thrown back and there was something wild and free is the way her arms were reaching behind her, almost as if she was about to take flight.
                  Her heart started pounding in her chest.
                  It looked like her.
                  Donnie had sculpted her.
                  All the fears she'd had about him, all the walls she'd put up, they all came tumbling down in that instant. He did love her. His mama had said so hadn't she?
                  She stayed in the workshop for almost an hour, touching things and just letting herself revel in her new discovery.
                  Donnie loved her.
                  And she loved him.
                  Finally she went back to the house with Marie following at her heels. Nobody seemed to mind that it was the middle of the night. She showered, wanting to get the slightest hint of Carl's touch off of her. Then she let Mrs. Donahue give her one of Marie's nightgowns and put her to bed like a child.
                  She closed her eyes and thought about the future for the first time in what felt like forever. She was exhausted. But she didn't sleep. She couldn't. She had to wait for him.
                  Donnie came home around dawn.
                  She heard his mother whispering as he came into the