Page 94
Story: The Gentleman
He came and stood beside her, shoulder almost brushing hers. For a moment, they watched in silence as the cliffs emerged—darker than the night itself, jagged and waiting.
“The Arken Institute’s hidden lab. Built into the cliff face. Sea on one side. Sheer rock on the other.”
“Perfect place for a last stand,” Kat replied, her eyes still fixed on the horizon.
“Or a trap.”
Something in his tone made her turn. Moonlight carved shadows across his face, catching the scar near his eye.
“Second thoughts?” She tucked her arm through his.
“About the mission? No.” He glanced down at her. “About you being here...”
The quiet worry in his voice cut deeper than she expected. But she couldn’t let it in.
Kat stiffened. “Don’t.”
“I’m not giving you orders. I’m asking.” His voice stayed level. “Stay on the boat. Let Navarro run extraction if it goes sideways.”
“You know I can’t do that.” The words came out razor sharp.
“We’re going in blind, Kat. Korolov’s turf. Unknown headcount. Eldridge might be on site, and if that’s true—” His hand gripped the railing, knuckles white.
“Then Ineedto be there.” She turned fully toward him. “You haven’t forgotten who I am, have you? MI6 trained. Senior field op. This is my job.”
He pushed loose hair that had escaped her hat behind her ear with tender care. “I know exactly who you are.”
“Then don’t ask me to play the damsel. I won’t knit socks while you charge the gates.” She softened her voice. “This isn’t about you protecting me. It’s about finishing what they tried to bury.”
Leo scrubbed a hand across his jaw. “I’ve lost people before, Kat.”
“I’m not yours to lose.”
As soon as the words left her mouth, she wanted to take them back. They weren’t fair—not to him, not to everything they’d survived together. But vulnerability was still a foreign tongue, and she hadn’t mastered the language.
Something behind his eyes darkened and closed. “No,” he said at last. “You’re not.”
Her fingers brushed the edge of his vest. “That’s not what I meant.”
Her palm flattened against his chest, feeling the steady thud of his heart as she slid it under the layer of Kevlar. “I meant I belong to myself. I make my own calls. And I choose to be here, doing this,with you.”
The tension in his shoulders eased fractionally. “Stubborn woman.”
“You wouldn’t want me soft.”
His mouth curved. “No, I wouldn’t.”
The words had come easy—but the truth beneath them surged, hot and sharp.
God, she loved him.
Had for years. Before she’d had the nerve to name it.
“I get it.” Her voice was steadier than the storm in her chest. “Why you’re worried. I do. But I need to see this through. For Jane. For Gage. For me.”
His hand covered hers, warm and strong. “I know.”
She rose on her toes and kissed him. A kiss that held promises she wasn’t ready to say out loud.
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