“Yes.”
“Did you fight bad guys?”
“Sofia,” Lucia says, her tone gentle but firm.
Sofia’s mouth closes, but her curiosity remains.
Caterina leans forward. “He defended our country against people who want to hurt it.”
I turn my head toward her.
That was a very good answer.
The truth is, most people you fight in war aren’t “bad guys.” Everyone is just fighting for their country.
She looks at me, eyes bright with amusement and something else.
“That’s right,” I confirm.
That sets the girls off on a whole new tangent of questions, much to my dismay.
Teresa laughs.
And Caterina smiles, a bit wickedly.
It catches me in the chest so hard I forget, for one second, to monitor the room.
That is dangerous.
I know that.
But I still look at her.
She laughs at something Lucia says next, head tilted slightly, dark hair sliding over one shoulder, candlelight catching the gold at her ears. So warm and alive.
And the truth catches me in the gut. The truth I have known for a while now and still have not said out loud.
I am in love with her.
It caught me off guard when I realized it.
Not because I did not recognize the signs. I am not an idiot. I know what attachment feels like. I know what desire feels like. I know what protectiveness feels like when it crosses into something less professional and more dangerous.
I just did not expect it to happen to me like this.
With her.
With a woman I was hired to protect. A woman who argues with me about windows and security protocols, who orders flowers because her nieces love yellow roses, who can reduce aboardroom to silence with one sentence, who laughs like this only when she forgets to guard herself.
I love her.
The words sit inside me, completely undeniable.
I do not know what to do with them.
So I do nothing.
Which would be a better plan if I were not openly staring at her.
