My pulse beats hard in my throat.
“If last night was only guilt, tell me.”
Still nothing.
“If I’m embarrassing myself, tell me that too.”
That snaps my eyes back to hers.
“No.”
The word is harsher than I intend.
Her breath catches.
“No,” I say again, voice rough. “You are not embarrassing yourself.”
Something in her face loosens.
Not relief exactly.
But close.
"You are, however, making it very hard for me to do the right thing."
Her eyes darken further. “And what is the right thing?”
“To tell you to leave.”
“Are you going to?”
I stare at her.
The room feels too small.
The house beyond the locked door feels impossibly large. Her father under the same roof. Her brothers somewhere down the hall or downstairs. Armed. Heavily. My men outside. A threat still moving around this family. A wound in my side that should make this entire conversation impossible.
And Caterina standing in front of me like temptation come to life.
“Yes,” I say.
The lie tastes like blood.
“So tell me,” she whispers, and the words brush against my lips.
I say nothing.
Her lips touch mine with the barest whisper.
“I want you.” Her voice is only for me. “Not because someone tried to kill me. Not because you were shot. Not because I’m confused. I want you because I want you.”
I close my eyes.
Only for a second.
Long enough to see last night again. Her mouth. Her hands. Her face when she thought she hurt me.
When I open them, she is still there.
