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I did not want to imagine my parents’ nocturnal activities.

“What are you doing awake?” I asked.

She raised a brow. “What are you doing awake?”

“Sandro is outside.” I grinned sheepishly. “Is it okay if I let him in and stay here?”

Mom gave a short laugh. “Oh my God…this reminds me of…” She broke off and gave a shake of her head. “Of course. He’s your husband.”

“Same alarm code, right?” I didn’t want to wake up Dad. It was embarrassing enough that I ran into Mom and it felt like I was in high school sneaking in a boyfriend.

“Yes, it is.”

“Okay, then.”

I shuffled past the kitchen toward the entrance. I cleared the alarm, opened the door, and stuck my head out. The chilly night air pebbled goose bumps on my skin, but I wondered if it was from the weather or the anticipation of seeing Sandro. A shadowed shape headed my way and Sandro’s form became apparent after it cleared the canopy of trees. He strode to me in an easy gait. He had changed his suit, but it was still black.

If the weather was colder, I bet he would be in an overcoat to conceal more weapons. I knew he had a gun under his suit. A knife and another backup gun strapped to his ankle. Seeing him in this urban setting, it occurred to me no matter where we were, I was married to a lethal man.

It made me shiver.

He hastened up the steps, and his hands hit my hips, backing me into the house.

“You have to be?—”

His mouth slammed down on mine, and I was up against the wall beside the entrance. His hands skated over my sides, rough and desperate, while his kisses consumed me.

When he let me come up for air, I breathed, “Wow.”

His eyes gleamed, and he flashed me a grin.

DoorI mouthed.

He stepped back. His movements were still relaxed while he closed it without a sound. Then he caged me against the wall again.

“What were you doing standing outside?” I asked.

“I was debating whether I should climb up the building.”

I snickered. “You’d be hitting Dad and Mom’s balcony first if not getting reported by a neighbor.”

“Yeah, that wouldn’t make a good impression.”

“Or you could have texted me first.”

“What’s the fun in that?”

“Well, we couldn’t have fun if you were injured or in jail.”

His hands went to my butt and lifted me up. My legs wrapped around his torso.

“Your confidence in my abilities needs work.” His mouth hit mine, ghosting over it. “I’m going to hammer it into you.”

The threat pulsed between my legs. I squirmed against him, gratified to hear him groan.

He walked us to the stairs. “You’ll have to make sure I’m heading in the right direction to your bedroom.”

He’d never been to my bedroom, but he knew it was not street-facing like my parents’ room was. Plus, it had been a while since Sandro had been inside our home. Certainly not after he came back from Russia.