I yank it back, breathing heavily. “Testa di cazzo, Luciano. I could have killed you! What are you even doing out here?”
He only slips his hands into his pockets, looking utterly unconcerned. But his eyes glitter. “Hardly. You’re out of practice, little crow. And you set off every security measure around the villa with your little evening run.”
Irritated at the truth in his words, I turn my back on him. “I’ll be back soon.”
“Spar with me.”
Turning slowly, I glare at him. “What?”
He gestures to the space around us. “You and me. Like old times. Right here.”
I scoff, but something flickers in my chest. “It’s the middle of the night, Luc.”
He only steps closer, his voice a low murmur as he lifts my hair in his hand, winding it around his finger before letting it slipaway. “So? You’re here. I’m here. And you seem to have some excess energy to burn.”
He pauses. “Unless you want to do somethingelse,of course. I’m equally happy with either.”
There’s no heat in his words. His gaze sweeps over me, assessing. Searching. And his lips tighten at whatever expression crosses my face.
Luciano Morelli doesn’t miss a thing.
“Sparring it is, then,” he says – a little too gently. “Or we could talk about whatever sent you flying out here as if the hounds of hell were snapping at your heels.”
I toss him a dagger instead, and he snatches it from mid-air.
Show off.
I spring, but he’s ready, pushing me back and going for a low sweep that I can see a mile away. Sliding out, I give him a filthy look. “Don’t take it easy on me.”
“I happen to like you in one piece.” He easily dodges the flurry of movement, the slash of knives as he dances back. “And whatever you tell yourself, you need the practice.”
“Ass.” I launch myself at that, speeding up until our knives smash together with a metallic clang. He only smirks, our faces a few inches together.
“Fucking hell,” he whispers. “I’ve missed fighting with you, Caterina.”
His words send my stomach flipping, but I push him back anyway. “Flattery will still get you on your back.”
He wiggles his eyebrows. “Promise?”
And the laugh bubbles up my throat before I can stop it. “At least dance with me first.”
He more than meets my challenge. We move, up and down the path as I try to catch him. But… he’s right. I am out of practice.
He slips beneath my guard, and I pause as his hand slips around my throat. “My win, I believe. In a real fight, you’d be dead.”
I swallow as his breath heats my neck. And his lips brush against my exposed skin, the shirt I’m wearing oversized enough to give him easy access. “Luc.”
Heat. So much heat, as his palms rest on my shoulder. Slowly, he draws them down my arms, pressing against my back.
I let myself relax into him as he lifts my right hand. “Your guard is too high here.”
I nod wordlessly, inhaling as his hand slips to my stomach. “And this arm – it’s too tense. Keep it more relaxed, and you’ll have more fluidity.”
“Back to basics,” I whisper.
He turns me then, my body shifting against his. “We all have to go back to basics sometimes, little crow.”
I stare up at him. “You weren’t sleeping either, were you?”
