Page 62

“Attila’s a keeper, Luna. But he doesn’t know how to do relationships. You’re going to have to teach him.”

* * *

I findhim on the terrace, looking out at the city as the twilight fades behind a blanket of cold. Ice clinks in his glass as he lifts his drink to his lips and takes a sip, a contemplative look on his face.

“Mind some company?” I ask, hooking my foot in the railing as I come to stand beside him. I clasp my hands together over the railing, waiting. He turns to me, saying nothing, his eyes conveying all the words he wants to speak.

“I want you to stay,” he says. I throw my thumb over my shoulder and indicate the group of people waiting inside.

“They’re waiting for us.”

“No, I meant in Seattle,” he corrects. “I want you to stay here.”

“Why?” I dare not wish. I hold my breath expectantly, waiting for him to say something. He swallows sharply before speaking again.

“I don’t want to leave, but I need a reason to stay, Attila.”

“I want to see where this will go.”

He indicates the space between us with a finger that peels away from his glass. I move to take the glass from his hand and set it down on a nearby table. I close the space between us slowly, deliberately. If this is going to happen, I’m going to have to make it happen, because he’s taking his sweet time about it.

“What do you want, Attila?”

He sucks in a breath. I’m direct and to the point, but I have to rip off this band aid. If he wants us to be together, he’s going to have to tell me so. He stays silent for the longest time, while I wait and the night grows darker with us staring each other down.

“You’re a man used to getting what you want. I’ve seen you at your darkest. I’ve seen you be ruthless and calculating and devious when you want to be. I watched you as you decided and then actioned — the death of a man. You’re a man used to getting what you want, when you want it. Why, then, is it so hard for you to take what you want here and now?”

Attila tips his head to the side inquisitively, then grabs my hand and leads me away from the terrace. He drags me through the living room of Dante and Kingsley’s house. I scramble to keep up with him, but he won’t let my hand go as we cross the room, ignoring the curious looks from the intimate congregation. He finds the nearest bathroom and locks us in, then pushes me against the door, lifting my hands above my head. He looks at me for the longest time, as though waging a war with himself over what he’s doing.

“I’m a man used to getting what he wants, and what I want is you.”

His voice is hoarse as he speaks, before he bends and claims my mouth with his. I don’t fight it. If anything, I push into his body. More, more. I want more. My lips melt into his as our tongues do their happy dance; he doesn’t let me come up for air. Instead, he becomes everything and anything as he drinks me whole, savoring my scent as we entangle ourselves in a mess of limbs.

“What took you so long,” I murmur, in between breaths. He pushes his body into mine, until I can feel the hard ridges of muscle and I look down at where our bodies meet.

“Eyes, Luna. Eyes on me.”

“What. Took. You. So. Long,” I hiss, as he bites against my neck.

“I didn’t want just one more night, Luna. I wanted forever. I waited for you to tell me you were ready to start our forever after. And you just did.”

* * *