Page 75 of The Assassin's Captive
The timer goes off, but he ignores it. Instead, he turns off the heat and comes around the island to stand in front of me. Close enough that I can smell his cologne, see the flecks of gold in his hazel eyes.
"What do you want me to be?"
The question is loaded with possibility and danger in equal measure. Danger because I'm risking my heart on someone Iknow damn well could destroy it. But I find myself answering with complete honesty.
"I want you to be mine."
Lorenzo's eyes search my face, looking for doubt or hesitation. He won't find either.
"Serena." My name comes out rough, almost broken. He acts like he hasn't already told me he loves me, as if that moment of tenderness in the hotel room didn’t happen. It seems to me there is still so much hesitation inside his thoughts until he says, "If Emilio hadn't given you to me tonight," he says, voice barely above a whisper, "I would have taken you anyway."
His confession fills my heart to the point I think my chest might explode. "What do you mean?"
"I mean I would have grabbed you after that meeting and driven until we ran out of road. Left Rome, left Italy, disappeared somewhere they couldn't find us." His thumb traces across my cheekbone. "Because I love you, and I can't watch you belong to anyone else."
The kitchen spins around me. I wrap my arms around him to steady myself because hearing him say those words without my demanding them feels foreign. But I love hearing them.
"Lorenzo—"
"I know what I am," he continues, stepping closer until there's no space left between us. "I know what I've done, what I do for a living. I know you deserve better than a man who kills for money. But I can't let you go."
"You love me."
"More than I knew was possible." His other hand comes up to frame my face completely. "You belong to me now. Not to Emilio, not to the family, not to anyone else. Mine."
The possessiveness in his voice sends heat racing through my veins. There's something primal and honest about his claim that calls to a part of me I didn't know existed.
"And if I don't want to belong to you?" I ask, smirking at him.
"Too late…" He leans his forehead against mine. "But you need to understand what that means. It means I'll kill anyone who threatens you. It means I'll burn down Rome before I let anyone take you from me. It means you're stuck with a man who doesn't know how to love gently."
I close my eyes, breathing in his scent, letting his words wash over me. When I open them again, I see fear mixed with the love in his expression. Fear that I'll reject him, that I'll decide he's too dangerous, too damaged, too much.
"Good," I tell him. "I don't want gentle."
The smile that spreads across his face transforms him completely. Gone is the cold professional, replaced by a man who looks like he's been handed everything he ever wanted.
He kisses me then, reverently, like he's afraid I might disappear. I melt into him, letting myself feel everything I've been scared of for weeks. The attraction, the connection, the sense that this dangerous man is somehow exactly what I need.
When we break apart, Lorenzo rests his forehead against mine again, eyes closed.
"The carbonara is getting cold," he murmurs.
I laugh, surprising both of us. "Then we should eat it."
He nods but doesn't move away immediately. "After dinner, we need to talk about logistics. New security protocols, safe houses, communication procedures."
"After dinner," I agree. "But right now, I just want to eat pasta with the man I love."
The words slip out before I can stop them, but I don't regret them. Lorenzo's eyes snap open, hope and disbelief warring in their depths.
"You love me?"
"Yes." The admission feels like jumping off a cliff. "I love you."
He kisses me again, harder this time, full of relief and joy and promises I can feel in the way his hands shake against my face. When we finally separate, we're both smiling.
"Come on," he says, taking my hand. "Let's eat."
