Flaming ties

as Eva sat at the kitchen island, flipping through a magazine she wasn't actuall

, saying he had "business" to handle. He hadn't said much else, and Eva had been left to wonder what ki

bed the small kitchen knife she'd been using to cut fruit ear

ca's voice called

ed inside, his expression tense. His shirt was rumpled,

" she asked, trying t

e as he walked past her and into the kitchen. He poure

easily. "Handling things? You disappear for hou

e, his jaw clenched. "Yes, that's exactly what you'

this penthouse like some kind of prisoner, while y

nd intense. "This isn't about fairness

n't ask for your protection or your help. You dragged me into th

ny idea what I'm risking by keeping you here?

ven closer. "Then why are you doing

, the war he was fighting within himself. "Because I care about you, Eva," he sai

it - to be so raw, so honest. "Then stop pushing me away," she whisp

air. "I'm not pretending," he murmured. "You're a distraction, Eva.

t. "Then don't," she challeng

harged with an undeniable pull. Luca's eyes searched hers, and she could se

ing her waist as he pulled her against him. His lips crashed down on her

ith equal fervor. The world seemed to disappear around them - the danger, the uncert

against hers, his breath heavy. "This is

fingers tracing the line of his j

er himself. "Eva, I'm not a good man," he said softly

at her. "I don't care about what you've done, Luca. I

he fear of letting her in. "I'm trying to protect you," he

his lips. "Maybe I don't need protect

ser, his arms wrapping around her as if he never wanted to let go. "I don't know h

both hope and fear. "We'll figure

ting against hers. "Together," he repeat

ng that they were standing on the edge of a precipice, and