"Pasta's great," I told him. "Thank you."
I watched him cook, struck by what a dichotomy he was—a man who killed without conscience, yet took pleasure in such a simple domestic task.
Once the food was ready, he set a plate down in front of me at the table and took the seat across from mine. Other than my groans of pleasure every time I put a bite in my mouth, we ate in silence.
When we finished, I found Tristan's eyes on me, and I gave him a questioning look.
"Would you sit for me one day soon?"
"Sit for you?"
"I'd like to draw you. Properly," he added. "Not from memory."
I frowned at him. "The pictures in the room. You drew them from memory?" The idea was crazy to me. I could barely draw an apple.
"Yes. But they're not right."
They looked pretty damn good to me. "Oh. Uh, sure." I guess that answered the question of whether or not he planned for me to stay. Looked like I'd be here for a while, at least.
"Thank you."
A smile teased the corners of my mouth. "You're welcome."
I picked up our plates, leaving them in the sink when he told me to, and we made our way back to the bedroom. He eyed my things, all together in the corner, but said nothing as I left him in the bedroom to get ready for bed.
I was tucked into my side when he came out and turned off the light. I heard the rustle of his lounge pants hitting the floor, and then felt the dip of the mattress.
Unlike the last time I was in his bed, he didn't keep his distance. Instead, he climbed beneath the covers, found me in the darkness, and pulled me close to him. When he found me still clothed, he silently stripped me bare again.
I didn't protest as he tucked me beneath him, covering as much of my body as he could with his until we were skin to skin everywhere he could reach. When my arms came around him, he released a heavy, shuddering sigh. "Is this okay?" I asked him. "Is it too much?"
"Yes," he whispered. "And not enough." After a long pause, he asked quietly, "Why didn't you run, Luna?"
I knew he was talking about when Enzo left the key in the cell. "I don't know," I told him honestly.
"He would've let you go."
After a pause, I confessed, "I didn't want to leave you." He always gave me the truth, as far as I knew. And he deserved the same from me.
He was quiet for a bit. "Because of Gino?" There wasn't an ounce of emotion in his voice when he said his name. A sure sign, I was learning, that it was something that disturbed him a lot.
"No. I wanted to stay with you."
His fingers dug into my hip. "Why?"
I started to tell him it was because I wanted to make sure he was okay, but that wasn't the complete truth. I stayed because…I cared. "Because I wanted to be with you. And I was worried."
Slowly, his fingers loosened their hold on me. "If you ran, I would've come for you." He pressed his lips to the top of my head. "I'll always come for you, Luna."
He drew back enough to meet my eyes. Even in the dark, the intensity in his gaze made me shiver. I knew he meant what he said, but it didn't frighten me. Instead, a warm feeling surged inside of me. Other than my brother, no one had ever cared enough about me to care if I was there or not. Not my foster parents. Not the men I danced for—and fucked. They were all just using me, just like I used them.
But I wasn't lying when I'd told him I cared. My feelings for this dangerous man were complicated, but they were there, no matter how hard I tried to fight them.
The realization was both thrilling and terrifying.
I lifted my hand to his cheek, brushing my thumb over his sculpted cheekbone. His eyes fluttered shut at my touch.
"What are you doing to me, Luna?" he murmured.
