Page 121 of The Quiet Witness

Lucien in turn nearly choked on his food, swallowing once before asking. “Did you really just say that? I’ve been trying to perfect it for months.”

“Well, it is sweeter.” Kate returned him a teasing wink.

He sighed dramatically. “You wound me, here I was thinking you were serious.”

“I mean it though! Your cooking skills far outweigh my own.”

At that the bastard dared to laugh, eyes glittering as she saw the words written.That isn’t hard to beat.

She barked out a “What?!” Daring him to say it out loud.

“Your spaghetti is masterful.”

Her heel dug into his shins, knocking his knee against the table with a vicious smile as he winced. Twirling the glass of wine between her fingers she took a delicate sip. “Glad to know you do feel pain.” She raised her eyebrow in jest, raising her glass in mock celebration. “How far we have come.”

“Especially the knife tasted good.” He tried and failed miserably at keeping a straight face.

Kate allowed a note of darkness to enter her tone, muttering lowly. “You nearly tasted it.”

Lucien snorted, face a mask of disbelief. “Uhu.” He leaned in over the table matching her tone. “As I recall it clattered to the counter.” He sat back. “Your next move, the hip thing as you call it, definitely brought me off balance though.”

She rolled her eyes. “What hasn’t yet happened, can still take place you know.”

Lucien’s glass clinked against hers, the colorless water in his sloshing, nearly spraying over the edge. “How far we’ve come indeed. However… I would dial down the cockiness.”

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

“You’ll be driving back. And before you make up all sorts of excuses about your shoes, I’ve got your sneakers waiting in the car.”

Indeed, the arrogance that had reared its head now flattened down, leaving a gap for ensuing panic to take hold. “But it’s dark out and it’s snowing and—”

He raised a hand, stopping her flow of buts. “The Volvo will hold its own, you just steer, tremble in your seat and bring us home… hopefully.”

***

The door to Lucien’s place fell shut behind them. As much as she had thoroughly enjoyed the evening, she was beat. Limbs dragging she kicked off her sneakers, bending down to pick them up with a pitiful groan.

The ones he had taken along so he could force her to drive.

Unbelievable.

Lucien’s voice rumbled up behind her. “That sounds like it’s time for bed.” He locked the door behind him, the click echoing out through the silent house. The sound that would have sent her into a panic before, now made her sigh in relief, knowing that she’d gotten them both safely home. She had steered his black ride up the mountain, had trembled in her seat with fear yes, but… her initial panic had switched to a calm confidence, seeing as she left the trees in peace, and the car forged its way up with ease.

She mumbled a quiet “Yes.” Greeting Ghost with a gentle hand on his head before dropping onto the armrest of the couch, covering her deep yawn. “I should really stay away from drugs and alcohol though.” Even though it had just been one glass of wine. It must have been the adrenaline spiking through her veins that left her aching to get to bed.

Lucien laughed, leaning against the door as he took her in, splayed across the couch. “Need help getting up there?” He jerked his chin up to the stairs. She followed his gaze, legs growing tired at the sight. But tonight, the dancing, the closeness they had shared. She needed space to clear her head, before she would let go of all her rational thoughts and that tiny voice inside of her that kept warning her of what he was and was able to do. Even if it made her angry with herself for not following her heart, just this once.

So she shook her head, covering another yawn. “No, I got it.” She pushed off the couch, ignoring the amused raise of his eyebrows when she stumbled against the small coffee table.

“So I see.”

She waved his concern away, stumbling once more on her trek to the stairs, this time over well… nothing she could see. Wood creaked as Lucien popped up beside her, one arm already lifted behind her. “Just in case—” He sent her a shit-eating grin. “You decide to meet the floor. A gentleman can’t let that happen, now can he?”

With the fatigue bearing down on her, she had no fight left to answer his provocations.

“Whatever makes you happy, gentleman.”

And to be honest, I kinda do feel like falling. If that happens to land me in his arms, well can’t do much about that, can I?