Page 38 of The Gentleman

The words landed hard, and she didn’t argue.

They ate in silence.

The food was excellent.

Kat barely tasted it. Her mind kept playing backthatkiss.The pressure, the heat, the hunger?—

She jabbed at a spring roll, missed and launched it across the counter. It skidded before hitting the floor with a smack.

Brilliant.

Leo moved before she could, bending to retrieve it without a word, just silence thick enough to wade through.

While his back was turned, she pressed her palms against her eyes, fighting to erase the rasp of stubble, the taste of him, the solid heat of his body locking with hers.

He dropped the spring roll into the trash, then straightened, but when he turned, he avoided her gaze.

“Your car. Can they track it?” She seized on something neutral. “MI6 has access to the ANPR camera network across London.”

Leo nudged his food with a chopstick. “A shell corporation owns the apartment. Three layers deep.” His voice found its professional rhythm—safer ground. “The car’s clean too. Different entity, no connection to Guardsmen Security.” A pause. “Even Eldridge would need weeks to crack it.”

“You’ve thought of everything.”

“It’s what I do.” The corner of his mouth lifted marginally. “What we both do.”

“Yes. Of course.” He was right.

That’s who I am. An agent before anything else. Woman after. Right?

Leo stood abruptly and collected their plates. “I should...” He gestured toward the kitchen sink, then busied himself with rinsing dishes even though there had to be a state-of-the-art dishwasher stashed away inside one of his kitchen cabinets.

He stacked the clean containers. Everything about him was deliberate, except for the tremor he thought she couldn’t see. The domestic routine was surreal. Pretending normal, while reality howled at the door.

As if that kiss hadn’t rewired something fundamental between them.

She’d perfected the art of compartmentalization. Mission parameters in one box, personal feelings in another, never allowing them to touch. But Leo obliterated her careful divisions simply by existing in the same space, making her hyperaware of every breath, every movement.

The air felt charged, volatile—like standing too close to something about to ignite. Her training said choose the mission but her heart said something else entirely.

“It’s getting late,” Leo said finally, his back still to her. “You should get some rest.”

“Right.” She stood, uncertain in this unfamiliar space.

Leo turned, drying his hands. “Take my room. The bed’s more comfortable.”

“I can’t take your bed.”

“You can and you will.” That voice again—the one that didn’t ask, didn’t negotiate. He sighed and his voice gentled. “You need proper rest, Kat. Tomorrow won’t be easy.”

She hesitated. “Where will you sleep?”

“Couch.” He pointed to the elegant sofa in the living area. Too short for his frame.

“That’s ridiculous. We’re both adults.” The words tumbled out before she could stop them, hanging in the air like a dare.

His eyes met hers, something flickering in their depths that made her breath hitch. For a moment, she thought he might suggest an alternative arrangement.

He looked away. “The couch is fine.”

---