Dead By Sundown

Chapter Forty-Three: Breathless kisses

Chapter forty-three

The winter sun had swiftly dipped out of the sky as quickly as it raised. Mind finally rested, Nadia awoke just as the last rays of sun spilt across the room. The shadows of night already begun to dance over where her body was entwined with Lorenzo's, seemingly attracted to the dangerous power the radiated from them both. A smile, gentle and true, found its way to her face. Not moulded to perfection for anyone to see, an honest smile, a real feeling of happiness spreading through her chest at the sight of the sleeping form next to hers.

Arms dressed in ink were wrapped firmly around her waist, fingers grazing skin where her shirt had risen in sleep. Her head rested against his chest where it rose and fell with each breath, a comforting reminder that he was there. Alive. Both of them were. Nadia hadn't felt comforted by that thought in a long time.

Leo shifted slightly beneath her, arms tightening around her as he began to wake. Despite his still healing bruises, Lorenzo drew her impossibly close to him, further knotting their legs together, tucking his chin against her head. Still, his touch was delicate, mindful more of her injuries than his own. Nadia still tried to avoid the dark bruises that crept up his side, gently running her fingers up and down his bare chest. She marvelled at the strength beneath her fingertips, her touch moving from tracing his tattoos to the light scars hidden beneath the ink, no longer ashamed at the warmth the feel of him brought her. He shivered beneath her touch, causing her to lift her head and look down at him, briefly embarrassed at getting caught.

A silver eye opened halfway, looking up at her smiling face, then immediately closed again. The small assassin let loose a quiet laugh as Lorenzo pretended to fall back asleep.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," Nadia mused groggily, kissing the tip of his nose.

"I refuse to accept I have to get up yet," Leo grumbled, his morning voice harsh and even deeper than usual, his Italian accent thicker than usual, causing Nadia to bite her lip against the unexpected wave of desire that flowed through her. "What time is it?" He asked through a stretch.

Nadia glanced up at the alarm clock on Lorenzo's bedside table, "Ten to four," she groaned, tucking her face back into his side. Their meeting was that evening and, though both of them at that moment wished to continue to sleep, duty called.

At the reminder of the meeting, a fresh wave of guilt flooded Nadia. Unease at what lay ahead filled her, fear for jade's safety, worry for Giovani and his recovery, guilt over the attack at the restaurant and Santiago's injuries.

Lorenzo softly placed a finger underneath her chin, guiding her sight up to his face where he lay beneath her, watching her intently.

"I know that look," he mumbled, pulling her up with him as he sat back against the headboard.

"What look?" Nadia asked, genuinely confused.

"That little crease between your eyebrows, right there—" he placed a finger against the spot between her brows, running it down the bridge of her nose, leaning in and pecking her on the lips, "—that little crease gives all of your thoughts away."

Nadia smiled against his lips, tucking herself into the crease of his shoulder to hide he face from his, careful of his still healing bruises. It was one thing knowing he could read her like a book without even trying, but it was another to hear it from him. It scared her knowing just how quickly he picked up on her tells, how quickly they had become accustomed to one another's company.

She was so scared. Of everything, not just her response to Lorenzo's presence, but to the ever-growing threat of Ivan looming over their heads, of the attack from Colombo's men. The threat of losing him. Of losing any of them.