Lorenzo looked at his watch again.

She was taking too long.

Ivan was with a group of people by the entrance to the terrace, which was fine, so there wasn’t a huge rush. But still. He didn’t like that she’d been up there fifteen minutes and hadn’t come back. It made him antsy, made him want to go up there and check she was okay, that she hadn’t run into any difficulties.

He glanced back at the entrance again. Ivan wasn’t there anymore.

A cold feeling twisted in his gut. Kira had told him that she’d just play her pretty airhead card if anyone caught her, but he didn’t like the idea of her getting confronted, not by anyone. And then if Cesare found out . . . Christ. His father was a hard, cold bastard and if he had any suspicion about what Kira was doing, he would be unforgiving.

Jesus, he should never have asked her to do this for him.

Lorenzo didn’t think, he headed straight to the terrace exit, brushing off people who greeted him. He needed to get to Kira. He needed to make sure she was okay.

You always want more, that’s your problem. And then people get hurt . . .

Taking the stairs to the second floor two at a time, he reached the hallway, glancing down in the direction of Ivan’s office. There was no one there. The cold feeling wound tighter.

He strode down the hallway to the office, pulling open the door without ceremony. And a cold shock went straight through him.

Because inside, Kira was standing in the middle of the room, her hands clasped in front of her, big blue eyes wide, looking up at the man who was standing over her.

Ivan.

“I’m sorry, Dad,” she was saying. “I didn’t mean to be in here. The door was open and—”

“No, it wasn’t,” Ivan cut her off tersely. “I keep that door locked at all times.”

From out of nowhere, a deep, protective rage gripped Lorenzo and before he’d fully thought about the fact that perhaps launching himself like a missile toward Ivan—especially in defense of a woman who was only supposed to be his intern—wasn’t the best idea, he’d taken two steps across the room, putting himself in between Ivan and Kira.

“What the hell are you doing?” he demanded furiously, taking a step forward and getting right up in Ivan’s face.

The other man’s eyes widened in shock, and he stumbled back. “I’m not doing anything.”

Lorenzo took another threatening step. “Yes, you were. Leave her the fuck alone.”

Ivan blinked at him. “I was only asking her why she was here in my office when the door is normally locked.”

He knew he was acting stupidly. That pretty soon Ivan would start asking questions about why Lorenzo was getting so angry on Kira’s behalf. And that was a suspicion he didn’t need right now, and yet he couldn’t seem to stop.

He wanted to protect her, keep her safe from anyone who might hurt her, including the father who’d neglected her, who hadn’t given her the help she’d needed when she’d needed it.

What about you? Who will protect her from you?

His need, his insatiable hunger . . .

You’ll destroy her like you destroyed Katie. Like you destroyed Mom.

No. He wouldn’t. Kira was strong. Kira was stronger than both Katie and his mother. She wasn’t fragile, she’d been able to withstand his demands on her and more, she’d returned them with a few insatiable demands of her own.

He wouldn’t destroy her. She wouldn’t let him.

Lorenzo straightened, staring at Ivan coldly. It didn’t matter what Ivan thought. Ivan’s daughter was his, and he didn’t give a shit who knew it.

He opened his mouth to tell Ivan exactly what was happening here when he felt Kira’s fingers brush his back in a soothing touch. “I’m okay, Lorenzo,” she murmured from behind him. “Dad must be getting absentminded or something, because there’s no way I can unlock a DS Corp. lock on my own.”

Her voice was calm and he wanted to turn and take her in his arms, crush her mouth under his and fuck Ivan. But no, there was still a mission to complete. He’d keep it together until then.

Ivan had taken several steps back from him, and Lorenzo didn’t miss the fear and suspicion in his eyes. But he only said, “Yes, perhaps that’s it. Having a senior moment, clearly.” His gaze flicked to Kira. “We’ll talk about this later.”

“Sure, Dad,” Kira said easily.

Ivan sniffed then moved over to the door and opened it pointedly. “Perhaps you’d like to return to the party?”

There was no other option but to go and so Lorenzo did, ushering Kira out first, then following on behind her, protective rage still pulsing inside him like a giant heartbeat.

As they walked down the hallway, she tried to say something to him, but he only shook his head. “Not here,” he said tersely. “Join me in the car. We need to talk privately.”

He texted his driver as they made their way downstairs and within a couple of minutes, the limo pulled up to the curb.

Kira gave him a quizzical look as they got in, waiting until he’d pulled the door shut before saying, “Is everything okay? I mean, if you’re worried about Dad, don’t be. I basically opened the door and walked straight into him, which is crappy timing, but I’m sure he didn’t suspect anything.”

Lorenzo leaned forward and pressed the intercom button. “Take us home, Evans,” he said tersely to his driver, then gave into it, the craving to touch her that had been plaguing him the entire time at the party, pulling her into his arms and kissing her fiercely as the limo pulled into the traffic.

She returned the kiss, just as fierce, the heat and sweetness of her mouth easing the savage need inside him.

Eventually he pulled his mouth from hers and simply held her, relishing the warmth of her resting against him. “No, I’m sure Ivan wouldn’t have suspected anything. At least not until the moment I walked in and almost hit him.”

Her mouth curved, her fingers spreading out on his chest, a deep blue spark glinting in her eyes. “Poor Dad. You scared him.”

“Good. He deserved it.”

“True.” Her smile became wider, that blue spark dancing. “I did it, Lorenzo. Dad changed the code on the door and I thought I wouldn’t be able to get in, but I managed to guess it. And then I guessed the password on his computer, too.”

She looked so pleased with herself, he couldn’t stop from bending and kissing her lovely, pouty mouth again, wanting to taste her triumph. “I knew you’d do it,” he said, pulling back. “I never had any doubt.”

“Oh, I did. I spun out there for a bit when I realized Dad had changed the code, but then . . . well . . .” Her pale skin warmed, pretty and pink. “You were so confident to Nero that I could do it, and I didn’t want to let you down. So I pulled myself together and figured it out.” She put her chin on her hands where they rested on his chest and gave him a smug look. “Not bad for a screw-up like me, even if I do say so myself.”

“You’re not a screw-up.” He brushed his thumb across that tantalizing mouth. “You’re incredible. You helped Nero and me get the information we need, which is amazing.” He should be feeling way more satisfied about that than he actually was, yet the fact that she was so pleased with herself seemed far more important.

The flush in her cheeks deepened, the pleasure she got out of his praise obvious. It made him want to shower her with it, make it so she’d never doubt herself again. “I hope so. But if you can’t find anything in the files Nero downloaded, then you should know that I’m prepared to go into Dad’s study in the dead of night and do an actual physical search. For hidden compartments in his desk and any secret passageways leading to underground lairs.”

He laughed and pushed his fingers into her hair, shaking out the pins so her platinum curls would cascade over his hands, brush his skin. “Oh, I don’t think you’ll need to do that. There’ll be something in those files, I’m sure of it.”

“Damn, I was hoping for more spy stuff.” She pouted a little then grinned. “So what’s going to happen now?”

“Nero needs to go through those files, and with any luck we’ll find the evidence we need. And then we’ll take it to the board.” Her hair was so soft over the backs of his hands, and he couldn’t stop himself from twisting it through his fingers, loving the feel of it. He really should be feeling pleased with the success of their plan rather than the feel of Kira’s hair on his skin, but he didn’t.

“Sounds good.” Her gaze flickered away from his, examining the buttons on his shirt. “So . . . do I have to stop being your intern now?”

His chest tightened at the hesitant note in her voice. Did that mean she didn’t want to keep working with him? Or that she did? Not that it mattered. He’d leave the choice up to her about what she did. Either way, he wasn’t giving her up.

Gently, he reached out and put a finger beneath her chin, raising her gaze to his. “Do you want to keep being my intern?”

There was uncertainty in her eyes. “Well, I mean, I like working for you. But I have these plans for the arts-and-craft classes . . .”

“Then that’s what you should do. You know I meant what I said about giving you some start-up money to get them off the ground. I can organize that for you tomorrow.”

She gave him a small smile, but he knew that whether she remained working for him or not wasn’t really what she was asking about. So he added, “I’ll get another key cut for my townhouse too.”

Kira said nothing, her gaze searching his face, some expression in her eyes he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

“The key is for you,” he clarified, so she understood. “I want us to keep seeing each other, Kira.”

“Oh.” Emotion flickered over her face, gone so fast he couldn’t tell what it was. “So like what we’ve been doing? Having an affair?”

There was something in her voice, something in her expression that caught oddly at him, though he wasn’t sure what it was. “It’s hardly an affair,” he murmured, rubbing his thumbs over the platinum curls twisted around his fingers. “It’s a little more than that, don’t you think?”

“How much more?”

“Well, for a start, you’re the first woman I’ve ever given a key to.” He smiled, but she didn’t smile back.

Jesus, did she not want this? Had he been assuming she wanted this as badly as he did all along?

“You don’t want it?” The question came out sharper than he’d intended.

She looked away again. “No, it’s not that.”

“Then what?” There was a sudden pressure in his chest, as if something heavy was resting on it, pushing it down. He thought she’d be happy about it. But she didn’t look happy.

“If it’s not an affair then what is it?” Her voice was quiet, her pale lashes veiling her gaze. “I mean, how long exactly do I get to keep your key for?”

Irritation needled at him. This was not going like he’d hoped. He’d thought she’d be pleased, not asking him lots of questions. “You get to keep the key for however long you want. There’s no time limit.”

Her blue gaze flicked to his. “Until you get sick of me though, right?”

He stared at her, surprised. “What the hell makes you think I’ll get sick of you?”

“I’m not an easy person to be with, Lorenzo. You know this. I’m . . . difficult.”

“So?” His irritation deepened. What kind of bullshit was she talking about now? “I’m difficult, too. You don’t have a monopoly.”

“Yes, but my difficulties won’t ever go away. All I can do is manage them.”

“And? I manage mine as well. That’s all anyone can do.” He frowned, studying her face, trying to see what her problem was, because he didn’t understand. “What’s wrong? I thought you might want this, too.”

Her eyes had clouded, a strange emotional storm in them that he couldn’t decipher. “I do want this, but . . .” Her pale throat moved as she swallowed. “I don’t do uncertainty well, Lorenzo. I like to have rules and limits. They’re reassuring for me.”

“I can give you rules and limits, if that’s what you want.”

“But you can’t tell me how long you and I will be in a relationship for.”

“No. Of course, I can’t. No one knows the future, Kira.”

She pushed at his chest, tugging her hair out of his fingers, obviously wanting to put some distance between them. He let her, his irritation twisting into something a little hotter, a little more like anger.

Kira sat up, turning her face away from him, putting her hair to rights again.

Jesus, what the fuck did she want from him? Promises of forever? Was that it?

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” He didn’t bother to mask his annoyance, trying to keep a handle on the sudden pain that had blossomed inside him. “I thought Katie and I would be together forever, but we weren’t. Life doesn’t come with guarantees and time limits, you should know that.”

She was silent, her fingers still moving in her hair. Then her arms dropped, her hands moving to fold in her lap. “I do know that.” Her voice was very quiet, all the mischievous humor drained from it, leaving it sounding colorless and flat. “But maybe a few guarantees are what I need right now.”

Frustration burned inside him, a hot ball of it right in the center of his chest. “I can’t give you that, Kira. All I can give you is what we have right now, for however long it works out between us.”

The color died completely from her skin and her head bent, her attention on her folded hands, and he couldn’t stop himself from reaching out and covering those pale fingers with his own. “Isn’t it worth it? Isn’t it worth taking what you can get for however long you can get it? Life is so short. I thought you of all people would understand that.”

She didn’t look at him. “I want to go home now, Lorenzo.”

* * *

His hand over hers was very warm, and she could feel that warmth seeping into her, burning away the ice that crept through her veins. And she knew that if she let it sit there, let it burn away that ice entirely, she’d forget what she was supposed to be doing.

That she was supposed to be careful now, not let herself get carried away by her emotions. That she was supposed to be thinking things through.

The problem was that her heart was screaming at her to stop being such an idiot, to stop asking for stupid things like time limits and guarantees. It wanted to take Lorenzo’s key and the fact that he wanted their relationship to continue, and just go for it.

But that wasn’t how it was supposed to go now. She had to think through the consequences, because the last time she hadn’t, she’d killed people.

Sure, no one was going to die if she flung herself head first into a relationship with Lorenzo. No one was going to end up in a coma. But there was one person who could end up getting very badly hurt all the same.

Her.

That’s an excuse, and you know it. You’re just scared. You don’t think you’re good enough for him.

Oh, that was crap. She wasn’t scared. She was still recovering from the accident. Still recovering from the death of her friends. Still trying to find atonement, to find meaning in the tragedy she’d been a part of. She was still learning how to manage herself.

Anyway, she knew what would happen if she said yes to Lorenzo. She’d probably end up falling in love with him, hopelessly, helplessly. And one day, at some point, she’d screw things up, because she always screwed things up. She’d forget, the way she always forgot, about what was important. And maybe Lorenzo would be patient with her and maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe he’d decide she wasn’t worth keeping hold of after all, and then it would be over.

But it would be too late for her by then. She’d be in love with him and he’d break her heart. And she wouldn’t ever recover from that, she knew it with certainty.

So no, it wasn’t fear. It was logic. She couldn’t grab what she could get for however long she could have it. She’d been doing that all her life, and the consequences had gotten her nothing but pain.

She wouldn’t do it again.

“Kira,” Lorenzo said, his voice roughened. “Look at me.”

Carefully, she removed her folded hands from under his and steeled herself to glance at him.

His face was set, his features carved from granite, staring at her so intently it was like he was trying to see the secrets of the universe in her eyes. “So that’s it? I can’t give you a fucking guarantee, so it’s over?” A muscle ticked in the side of his jaw. “Don’t you even want to try?”

Pain leapt inside her, sharp and sudden as a knife thrust. “You think I haven’t been trying? All my fucking life I’ve done nothing but try, Lorenzo. And I’m tired of it. I’m just so . . . goddamn tired. I don’t want to try anymore. Because you know what? Trying means failing, and I’m so goddamn sick of failing, too.”

He tried to grab her hand, but she pulled it away, giving a violent shake of her head.

Cursing under his breath, he sat back against the seat, his furious silver gaze on hers. “Failing? Failing at what?”

She stared back, unflinching. “Failing my friends. My parents. You. And I can’t fail you, Lorenzo. I can’t. That would break my heart.”

His expression twisted and he leaned forward, reaching for her again. “Kira—”

“No. Don’t touch me. Please.” She swallowed, staring at him. Willing him to listen and understand. “The accident hurt me. You can’t see the scars, but they’re there. One day, I’ll recover, I know I will, but . . .” She paused. “If something goes wrong between us, I won’t ever recover. I won’t ever recover from you, Lorenzo. Understand that right now.”

The lightning in his eyes flashed, a furious storm. “I would die rather than hurt you,” he said, his voice full of gravel.

“Like you said though, you can’t give me guarantees. And right now, I can’t rebuild my life without them.” Her eyes prickled, and there was a heaviness in her chest, a pressure, as if someone had her heart in their hands and was slowly squeezing tight. “I . . . want you, Lorenzo. Believe me, I want you. And maybe if the accident hadn’t happened or if I was a different person, things would be different. But . . . they’re not. I am who I am. And. . . .” Her throat got tight, and she had to force the last few words out. “I don’t want to be hurt again. I have to protect myself. You can understand that, can’t you?”

Something flashed across his face then. Something bright and anguished, and she nearly reached for him, only remembering at the last minute that perhaps touching him now would be a bad idea.

So she clenched her hands together tightly instead, furiously blinking back the tears that threatened to spill over. Trying to ignore the squeeze of pain around her heart.

The anguish was gone from Lorenzo’s features as quickly as it had come, his expression shuttering like a door being slammed in her face. The brilliant silver in his eyes dulled, became iron gray. “I understand.” His voice was flat, cold. “I would never want to do anything that would compromise that.”

It should have relieved her, but it didn’t. That icy note in the words only made the pain sink deeper inside her. “I know you wouldn’t,” she said huskily. “You’d never hurt me deliberately.

He turned away, his posture stiff. “Of course not.” Leaning forward he pressed the button on the limo intercom. “We need to take Miss Constantin back to her house, then you can take me home, Evans.”

Kira’s fingers clenched tighter. Didn’t take a genius to work out that he was disappointed, maybe even hurt by her response. That caused the tightness around her heart to magnify, making her own disappointment and hurt that much sharper and more bitter.

You’re a coward. He’s made you happier than you’ve been in years, and now you’re throwing it in his face because you’re scared.

Kira forced the thought away hard.

Lorenzo would get over it. What they had wasn’t even real anyway, not really. It was based on sex, on chemistry, nothing more.

Liar, liar, liar . . .

Ignoring the denial, she waited out the agonizing minutes it took to get back to her parents’ house. Then, after the limo had pulled up again to the curb and stopped, she reached for the door handle. “Thank you, Lorenzo. For everything.”

“The money you need for your classes will be in your bank account in the next couple of days,” he said expressionlessly, getting his phone out of his pocket. “Whatever happened between us has nothing to do with my promise to you that you wouldn’t lose out.”

Of course, he’d do that for her. He was a man of principles.

“Thank you,” she repeated, her voice scratchy. “That . . . means a lot.”

He gave her a curt nod, but didn’t look at her, his attention on his phone.

Her eyes felt dry and sore, her throat aching. “I’m sorry,” she said hoarsely. “I’m so sorry, Lorenzo.”

He didn’t look up from his phone, giving her nothing but a cold, aching silence.

A tear slid down her cheek.

Time to go.

She got out and shut the door behind her, and she didn’t look behind her as she walked up the front steps.

Not once.