Her eyes widen. She realizes I noticed.
“And in that alley?” My voice drops lower. “When I shielded you from the blast? When I had you pinned against that wall?”
She goes completely still. Not even breathing.
“The way your body responded to mine? The way you melted into me, the sounds you made? Trust me, Talia. There was nothing clinical about it.”
Color floods her cheeks. Her lips part slightly, but no words come.
“You responded like someone who’s been asleep their whole life and just woke up. That’s not analytical. That’s pure instinct.”
She shakes her head, starting to curl away from me. “You don’t?—”
“And twenty minutes ago?” I continue, not letting her retreat. “When I had you against the wall during training? The way you arched into me? The way your pupils dilated? The way you looked at my mouth?”
“Stop.” The word comes out strangled.
“Why? Because it’s true?”
“Because it’s embarrassing.” She presses her face against her knees. “You’re talking about it like … Like?—”
“Like foreplay?” I lean back, deliberately casual. “It’s physical attraction. The chemistry between us is so thick I could cut it with a knife.”
“You can’t just say things like that.”
“Why not? It’s true.” I study her—this brilliant woman, made small by someone’s cruelty. “You want me. I want you. The air ignites when we’re in the same room.”
“That’s not—” She stops, swallows. “You’re my protector. This is just—proximity. Adrenaline. Trauma bonding.”
“Bullshit.” I set my elbows on my knees, getting closer to her level. “You think I can’t tell the difference between fear and arousal? You think after years of reading bodies in combat situations, I can’t recognize when someone wants me?”
She peeks up at me, eyes wide. “This is inappropriate.”
“Probably. Doesn’t make it less true.” I hold her gaze steady. “When I touched you during training, your whole body responded. Not with fear. With want.”
“You don’t know what I want.”
“Then tell me I’m wrong. Look me in the eye and tell me you didn’t feel anything when I pinned you. Tell me your body didn’t wake up when I covered you with mine in that alley.”
She opens her mouth. Closes it. Can’t say the words.
“That’s what I thought.” My voice gentles. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting someone. Nothing wrong with your body responding to mine. That’s not being analytical or clinical. That’s being human.”
She shifts uncomfortably, face still hidden.
“And there’s nothing wrong with talking about it either.” I keep my voice steady, matter-of-fact. “We’re both adults. Sex exists. Attraction exists. Talking about what you want, what you like, what you don’t like—that’s normal. Healthy, even.”
She peeks up at me, eyes wide with something between shock and curiosity.
“But you’ve never done that, have you?” The realization hits me. “Never told Nathan what you wanted. Never told any man. Because talking was too much. Because having needs was ‘exhausting.’”
Her silence is all the confirmation I need.
“But Nathan said?—”
“You threaten Nathan. He’s a weak man who needs to break you down to feel powerful.” The anger rises again, protective and fierce. “But your body knows the truth. It responded to me because it recognized something it wants.”
She’s trembling now. Just slightly. “But Nathan said?—”
