"Luck had nothing to do with it. You kidnapped me, remember?"
He laughs. The sound sends tingles down my spine. "I remember."
"Best worst decision you ever made."
"The best." He tucks my hair behind my ear. That gesture. The one that started everything. "Definitely the best."
I lean in and kiss him again. Longer this time. Deeper. His hands slide down my back, grip my hips, pull me closer.
"We have work to do," I murmur against his mouth.
"I know."
"Giovanni isn't going to find himself."
"I know that too."
"So we should probably..."
"Probably." He stands, lifting me with him, and carries me toward the bed. "In a minute."
"Leone."
"One minute." He lays me down, covers my body with his. "God, maybe two."
I laugh. The sound surprises me. Light. Unguarded. The laugh of a woman who has found, against all odds, a place where she belongs.
"Fine," I say. "Two minutes."
He grins. "Generous."
"I'm a generous person."
"You are." He kisses me. "You really are."
Two minutes becomes twenty. Twenty becomes something longer. We don't talk about Giovanni or the war or the dead sister whose ghost still haunts the corners of his eyes. We simply exist, together, in the space we've carved out of the chaos.
Afterward, we lie tangled in the sheets, my head on his chest, his hand tracing lazy patterns on my back. The compound has gone quiet around us. Evening shift settled in, the rhythm of the building slowing toward night.
"Thank you," he says quietly.
"For what?"
"For asking. For listening." His hand stills on my back. "For not running."
I prop myself up on my elbow, looking down at him. In the dim light, he looks younger. Softer. The hard edges smoothed away by whatever passed between us.
"I told you I'm not going anywhere."
"I know. But hearing it and believing it are different things." He reaches up, traces the line of my jaw with his thumb. "I'm working on the believing part."
"Take your time. I'll keep reminding you."
He pulls me back down, tucks me against his side. I settle into the familiar position, cheek on his shoulder, arm across his chest, leg thrown over his.
"Tomorrow we need to go over the New York intel," I say.
"I know."
