“Not yet,” Lev shot back, his mouth curving in that rare, wicked half-smile.
Their voices faded as they stepped inside, and I lingered a moment longer on the balcony, looking out at the skyline. From up here, the city looked untouchable.
The wind tugged at my hair, warm and salt-sweet from the sea. I turned back toward the villa’s glass doors, where Roman and Lev stood framed by the soft golden light inside, one smiling, the other already scowling, both of them mine in ways I couldn’t quite explain. Dmitri had sat down on the couch and his gaze met mine, the heat in his eyes sending a flush of heat straight through me to my core.
I looked at them—my wild, impossible men—and felt a chill that had nothing to do with the breeze.
Whatever tomorrow brought, I knew one thing for certain. Nothing about it was going to be simple.
CHAPTER 34
Kara
As soon as I walked back inside some time later, the smell of food hit me, all warm spices, grilled meat, and the fresh aroma of baked bread. Roman stood at the island, sleeves rolled up, a grin playing on his lips as he lifted the lid off one of the platters.
He’d ordered enough food to feed a small army.
“What… is all this?” I asked, blinking at the spread.
Roman looked up, mischief dancing in his eyes. “Brunch. Or lunch. Or a feast. I’m still not sure what time it is, but I figured you’d be hungry.”
“This is…” I glanced at the dishes. There was shakshuka, roasted lamb, flatbreads, pasta, sushi, even a plate of waffles. “A lot.”
He gave me a half shrug. “You didn’t exactly leave a note with your preferences.”
“Roman.” I laughed, shaking my head. “Did you orderone of everything?”
“I like to be thorough,” he said easily, crossing his arms. “Besides, if I guessed wrong, I’m sure I’d never hear the end of it. You’re a hard woman to predict.”
Behind him, Lev appeared in the doorway, silent as ever, a small towel slung over his shoulder. He glanced at the mess of plates, then at Roman. “You know she’ll only eat like one hundredth of all this.”
Roman waved a hand. “Details, shmetails.”
Lev rolled his eyes and moved past him, coming to stand beside me. He reached out, gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear. His fingers lingered there, just long enough to make my heart trip.
“Sit,” he said quietly. “I don’t even know the last time you’ve eaten.”
He was already pulling a chair out for me before I had the chance to protest and I just sat down. I didn’t argue. It was pointless when his voice sounded like that.
Roman poured a glass of wine and set it in front of me with a little flourish of his hand. “To surviving,” he said, raising his own.
“Barely,” I muttered, clinking my glass against his.
“Barely still counts.”
Across the room, Dmitri sat near the window, a book in his hand. He wasn’t reading it, just turning it over thoughtfully. His sleeves were rolled up, his shirt open at the collar, and his focuswas on me in that way it so often was. Not obvious, not hungry, just… aware. He absorbed everything in silence.
“You’re quiet,” Roman said in his direction.
He looked up slowly. “You talk enough for all of us.”
Roman smirked. “See? Hedoeslisten.”
He studied me for a long moment, his gaze thoughtful rather than assessing. “Tell me something,” he spoke finally.
My brow arched. “That sounds ominous.”
Roman glanced up from the table, already grinning. “Oh, here we go. Dmitri’s about to psychoanalyze someone again. Should I grab a notebook?”
