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“For what?”

“For coming when I called.” Her words were hushed with exhaustion. “For finding me.”

He tightened his hold as her breathing slowed, her body melting into sleep.

“I’ll always find you,” he whispered, but she was already asleep, weightless in his arms for the first time since he’d arrived in England.

Leo stared at the ceiling, listening to the slow rise and fall of her breath.

Outside, the city carried on.

But inside this room, everything had changed.

The boundary between them wasn’t blurred anymore—it was gone.

And for the first time in years, he didn’t want to go back.

19

Kat surfaced from sleep,the air rich with the scent of leather. For a heartbeat, she couldn’t place where she was. Then Leo’s phantom heat pressed against her memory, solid as the empty couch beneath her.

Leonid.

Gone. The cushion beside her was still indented and warm. He hadn’t been gone long.

Memory returned in shards—gunfire, Leo’s hands on her waist, the taste of adrenaline and want.

She sat up, stretching stiff muscles. Sunlight cut through half-drawn drapes, catching dust motes that hovered like golden ash.

The rain that had hammered London for days had stopped.

Her thoughts drifted to Leo.

Years of careful distance, gone in one night.

Her training screamed warnings about attachment, but they were hollow against the memory of his mouth on hers.

In the shower, hot water pounded the tension from her shoulders. Which man would she find this morning—the onewho’d held her, or the operative who kept everyone at a distance?

When she emerged, wrapped in a plush towel, she found a shopping bag placed neatly on the bed.

Inside, she found simple toiletries and precisely folded clothes. A cashmere sweater in moss green, soft jeans, boots worth more than her monthly salary. And beneath it all—deep teal silk and lace.

He’d chosen these colors specifically for her skin. Heat flooded her cheeks.

Everything fit perfectly. Of course it did.

In the kitchen, Leo stood with his back to her as he wrestled with an espresso machine, fresh shirt open at the collar. His shoulders tensed when he sensed her presence.

Kat let her gaze linger for a second longer than necessary.

Damn, he made control look effortless.

“Morning.”

He turned, eyes dropping to the sweater he’d chosen before snapping back to her face.

“Coffee?” His voice was too casual.