Page 12 of The Saint

“Heard it was a big night in there.”

I turned my face to the moon. “It was.”

“You gonna tell me about it?”

“You girls not get enough to gossip about on your own?”

A chuckle tumbled out of his chest like thunder, and I shifted my weight to one side, away from the sound. “You wouldn’t leave us hanging now, would you, Major? We’ve been stuck out here doing perimeter duty all night, while you wined and dined with D’Angelo and his lieutenants. The least you can do is tell us what happened.”

“I got my stars,” I said, my chest swelling and my throat tightening. I swallowed against it, then continued, “I hung out with Sarah and Chaya, ate chicken spiedini and pasta, drank wine, saw Mateo try to kill himself again, and listened to D’Angelo tell everyone to lay low and not draw attention to anyone.”

“Mateo tried to kill himself?”

I waved away his concern. “Swallowed wrong or something. He disappeared for a few minutes and was fine when he came back.”

Lev ran a hand over his chin, saying nothing for a few moments. “So we’re supposed to lay low?”

Nodding once, I lifted my face to the moon. “There’s been a lot of heat since the war with the Silvas. D’Angelo doesn’t want any more attention drawn our way.”

“What’s that mean for us?”

I blinked. Lowered my chin. For my men, that question was easy. They’d always been told where to go, what to do. Now, they’d get some time home with their families, some months of relaxation after years of being on guard at the farm.

But for me?

Until recently, I hadn’t had time for myself since I was seventeen. Two and a half years in the IDF. Two years in a farmhouse with Queenie, Tessa, and five men. Then coming home to a war that was a long time coming, constant activity with long nights, early mornings, and little rest.

Until recently, I hadn’t had time to stop and think. But now?

Now, all I had was time.

“Time off to do what you want,” I muttered.

Lev shifted closer. “What about you?”

“They put me up in an apartment near Central Park.”

“Yeah?” His arm grazed against mine. “You got any plans?”

Sweat slicked my palms and coated my skin. I shrugged, my shoulder bumping into his. “I guess, just wait and see.”

Lev’s arm wrapped around my shoulders; his face lowered toward mine. “You want some company? We could celebrate your stars.”

I lifted my chin, and my throat grew tight. Deep brown eyes looked down at me. A crooked nose won in a fight when he was young. That scent wafted off his skin. Sweat and the smell of the outdoors, of a strong man who could kill with his bare hands.

Hands that had smoothed against my skin on long nights at the farm, making me feel…

Movement by the house caught my attention and I shifted, pulling out of Lev’s tightening embrace.

“What was that?”

He reached for his gun, and I felt naked without my own.

A breeze rushed through the backyard, ruffling papers under the lounge chair on the empty patio.

“Just the wind,” Lev said, lowering his gun to his side. He put it back in its holster, turning back to me. “What do you say, Major?”

Dread flooded my body, as thick and suffocating as the hot, humid night air. I turned my gaze from those papers—the notebook laying on the ground beside the sweaty tumbler empty of anything but melting ice. Lev stared down at me, an invitation in his eyes.