Ronan's hand found hers. His fingers were warm, steady.
"He was protecting you. The less you knew, the safer you were."
"And now I know everything, and I'm not safe at all."
"You're not alone. That's the difference." He squeezed her hand. "Your father was working in the dark, without backup, without resources. You have Shadow Ops. You have Caleb, my co-worker. You have me."
She looked up at him. In the dim light, the hard edges of his face seemed softer, more human. Not the operative. Not the security consultant. Just a man standing in a small kitchen, holding her hand like it mattered.
"What happens after the centennial? After we expose Warren and take down whatever network he's built?"
"I don't know." He didn't look away. "I've never stayed anywhere long enough to find out."
"Would you want to?"
The question hung between them, heavy with implications neither of them was ready to name.
"Ask me again in two weeks," he said finally. "When this is over. When you're safe."
"And if I'm not safe?"
"Then I'll make sure you are." His voice dropped, rough at the edges. "Whatever it takes, Lila. Whatever it costs."
She stepped closer. The space between them narrowed to inches.
"That sounds like more than a professional obligation."
"It stopped being professional a while ago." His free hand came up to cup her jaw, his thumb tracing the line of her cheekbone. "You know that."
"I know." She leaned into his touch. "I'm just waiting for you to admit it."
He kissed her then—not the soft, tentative kiss from the park, but something deeper, more urgent. She tasted coffee and something darker, something that spoke of long nights and hard choices and a man who had stopped believing he deserved gentleness until she'd walked into his life.
When they finally pulled apart, both breathing hard, he rested his forehead against hers.
"This is a terrible idea."
"Probably."
"We should be focused on the mission. On the evidence. On keeping you alive."
"Probably." She smiled against his mouth. "But I've spent two years being careful. Playing it safe. Following the rules. And you know what? It didn't protect my father. It didn't expose the truth. It didn't change anything."
"So what are you saying?"
"I'm saying maybe it's time to stop being careful." She kissed him again, quick and fierce. "At least about this."
He laughed—a real laugh, surprised and warm—and pulled her closer.
Outside, the night pressed against the windows, full of shadows and dangers they couldn't see. But inside this small cottage, for just a few hours, they let themselves forget.
Ronan's mouth found hers again, slower this time. Deliberate.
Lila's back pressed against the kitchen counter as he stepped into her, his hands sliding from her waist to her hips, pulling her closer. Tomorrow, they would plan. Tomorrow, they would strategize and document and prepare for the battle ahead.
Tonight was something else entirely.
She gripped the front of his shirt and tugged him toward the hallway. He went willingly, his mouth never leaving hers, one hand finding the small of her back to guide her. They bumped against the doorframe. She laughed against his lips, and he swallowed the sound, deepening the kiss until her laughter turned into something hungrier.
