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Following that logic, though, it was true for her as well. The boss of this place had invited her to stay, even insisted on it.

As they reached the front door of Shira's house, Fenella turned to face Din, suddenly aware of the awkwardness of this moment at the end of what had essentially been a date. Not that either of them had called it that, but that didn't change the fact that it was.

"Thank you for today," she said. "I had a very good time with you."

"It was my pleasure."

He stepped closer, and Fenella felt her heart rate increase. Was he going to kiss her? Did she want him to?

Din's hand rose, gently tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, the gesture so tender it made her breath catch. He leaned forward, his intention clear in the tilt of his head, the softening of his eyes.

At the last moment, Fenella chickened out and turned her head, so his lips landed on her cheek instead of her mouth. It was a reflex, an instinctive protection of a boundary she wasn't ready to cross yet, even as part of her yearned to do exactly that.

Din pulled back, no hint of frustration or disappointment on his face. "Goodnight, Fenella," he said. "Sleep well."

"Goodnight," she replied, her voice slightly unsteady. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

It came out as a question, uncertain in a way she rarely allowed herself to be.

"Sure. Do you want me to come with you to meet Atzil?"

The relief she felt made her weak at the knees. "I would love that."

"I'll pick you up at two-thirty so we can enjoy a leisurely stroll over to the bar."

"I'm looking forward to it."

He waited as she stepped inside, raising his hand in a final farewell before turning to walk away.

Fenella closed the door and leaned against it, her fingers rising to touch the spot on her cheek where his lips had been. The house was quiet, with Shira apparently still out for the evening.

Why had she turned away? Din had been nothing but respectful, patient, and attentive all day. He had shown no signs of pushing boundaries or expecting more than she was willing to give. Unlike most men she'd known, he seemed content to move at a snail's pace and let her set the terms of their interactions.

And yet, when the moment came, she had pulled back, some deep-seated instinct for self-preservation overriding the warmth that had been building between them all day.

Fenella walked through the dark house to her room, her thoughts churning. Fifty years she'd spent running, hiding, guarding herself against threats both real and imagined.

It was difficult to adjust to her new reality, slow down, and stop seeing everything and everyone as a threat.

18

KYRA

Kyra sat at the island, cradling a steaming mug of coffee between her palms as her daughter sliced fruit for their breakfast.

"Did Fenella call you last night after her date with Din?" Kyra asked, taking a careful sip of her hot coffee.

Jasmine shook her head, her knife moving rhythmically through a ripe, juicy mango. "Not a peep. I was expecting at least a text, but nothing. Must have gone either really well or catastrophically bad."

"I'm betting on well," Kyra said. "She was trying to hide her excitement, but I could see right through it. She's at least intrigued, and she's willing to give him a chance."

"Can you imagine?" Jasmine placed the sliced mango on two plates, then reached for a bunch of grapes. "Carrying a torch for someone for half a century? That's dedication."

"Or obsession," Kyra countered, then softened. "Though I think in Din's case, it's the romantic kind. He didn't even know she was alive, and yet he hadn't forgotten her."

Jasmine paused with a bunch of grapes hanging from her hand. "I escorted her to the café to meet him, and there were definitely sparks between them." She chuckled. "The fact that she let me style her hair and apply her makeup in preparation for the date is telling. She even agreed to borrow a dress from me."

Kyra laughed. "Did she complain the entire time and try to make it look like she was doing you a favor?"