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"That doesn't narrow it down."

Her lips twitch.

I slide my hand around her waist.

The teasing disappears.

"I missed you," she says quietly.

It's not the confession I wanted.

It does more damage than I expected.

"You've been gone six hours."

"I know."

"That's pathetic."

"Deeply."

I kiss her.

There is no desperation in it at first. No punishment. No attempt to erase what happened between us. My mouth moves over hers slowly, and Elena's fingers curl into my shirt.

This isn't forgiveness purchased with desire.

It's a choice.

Hers.

Mine.

When she kisses me back, the last of the distance between us breaks.

I pull her closer, and she wraps her arms around my neck. The kiss deepens, heat building where anger lived only minutes ago. I feel her smile against my mouth when I lift her onto the edge of the table.

"Careful," she murmurs. "There are important financial records here."

"I'll buy you new ones."

"That's not how records work."

"I'll buy the bank."

She laughs against my mouth.

There she is.

My impossible accountant.

My partner.

Mine, though I know better than to say that aloud tonight.

We make it as far as her bedroom before patience abandons us completely.

Later, Elena lies against me with her head on my chest, one leg tangled with mine beneath the sheet. Her breathing has slowed, but I know she isn't asleep because her fingers keep tracing an absent pattern over my ribs.