He looked at me one more time. "You will take good care of him, dottore? Men like our Luka... they shatter so beautifully once they learn what it means to love."
With that, he tipped his hat and sauntered away, spurs singing a metallic melody with each step. But just before he disappeared into the crowd, he glanced back and gave me the slightest wink.
The café seemed to exhale collectively once he was gone.
Luka's hand still gripped my thigh, fingers digging into the muscle. When I placed my hand over his, he startled, as if only now realizing he was touching me.
"We should go," he said, voice tight. "Now."
We made our way back to our quarters in tense silence. Luka moved differently now. He was hypervigilant, constantly scanning our surroundings. Once inside, he locked the door and performed a security check that seemed automatic. Only after confirming we were alone did some of the tension leave his shoulders.
"What was that about?" I asked, watching him pace the living area like a caged predator. "Is he going to help us or not?"
"He's waiting to see how things play out." Luka ran a hand through his hair. "Judges don't take sides unless they have to. They enforce the rules, but they love watching the game."
"So we're what? Entertainment?"
"For now." He stopped pacing, turning to face me fully. "Did you notice how he looked at you?"
I swallowed, heat creeping up my neck at the memory. "It was hard to miss."
"He was doing it to provoke me." Luka moved closer, something dangerous flashing in his eyes. "And it worked."
My heart rate kicked up a notch. "Luka..."
"I didn't like it," he said, voice dropping lower. "The way he looked at you. Like you were something he could just take."
"I'm not something anyone can just take," I replied, standing my ground as he approached.
"No," he agreed, stopping inches from me. "You're not."
Something had shifted between us. The controlled, careful distance we'd maintained during his recovery evaporated, leaving raw electricity in its place. His eyes dropped to my lips, lingering there. "You're attracted to danger. To violence. To people who could hurt you."
"Yes." The admission felt like jumping off a cliff. "It's something I've been in therapy for. A pattern I've been trying to break."
His laugh was soft, almost bitter. "Then you're doing a piss-poor job of it, doc. You don't get much more dangerous than me."
"I know. But you're different."
He moved closer still, close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from his body. "Because I saved you instead of killing you? That doesn't make me good, Vincent. It just makes me a traitor."
"Because you had a choice," I said. "And you chose not to be what they made you."
His expression flickered, something vulnerable breaking through before he masked it again. "You have too much faith in me."
"Maybe." I reached up, hesitating just a moment before placing my palm against his chest. "Or maybe I see something in you that you can't see in yourself yet."
He looked down at my hand, then back to my eyes. The air grew heavy. My entire body thrummed with awareness. Of his proximity, the scent of his skin, the rise and fall of his chest beneath my palm, the vivid blue of his eyes.
Then slowly, giving me every chance to pull away, he leaned in.
I held my breath as he paused, our lips a whisper apart. His eyes searched mine, seeking permission. I gave the barest nod, unable to form words with him so close.
The first brush of his lips against mine was devastatingly gentle, almost hesitant, nothing like the confident predator I'd come to know. This was Luka stripped of pretense, vulnerable and uncertain. The careful pressure, the subtle trembling of his mouth against mine… This wasn't just a kiss. It was a confession.
My eyes fluttered closed as he pressed closer, one hand cradling my jaw gently. His rough thumb pad stroked along my cheekbone as if I were something precious, something that might break.
I let him set the pace. This wasn't just our first kiss. This might be the first kiss Luka had ever initiated that wasn't tactical, wasn't part of a mission.
