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He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Would you let me take you on a date?"

I blink. "A date?"

"A real one. You know who I am now. If you'll give me the chance, I'd like to get to know you again without deciding which parts of my life you can handle."

"You're aware we've already done the dinner-and-dancing thing?"

"Then we'll do something different. Something you choose."

I study him, remembering a beautiful terrace, a first kiss, and how much I wanted to believe that the man holding me was exactly who he seemed.

"Maybe," I tell him.

"Maybe?"

"I'll consider it."

His mouth curves. "You said that about our first dance."

"And look how that turned out. I ended up stabbing your wife."

He laughs, then winces when he sees my shoulder. "Fair point."

I stand slowly, and he rises without reaching for me. I know he's waiting to see what I want.

So I make the decision myself.

I step closer and take his hand.

"I want to kiss you, Enzo. That doesn't mean everything is forgiven, and tomorrow I might be angry all over again."

"Then tomorrow we'll talk about it."

"And you're not getting out of buying me dinner just because you rescued me from a warehouse."

"I wouldn't dare."

I smile, then lift my face to his.

His kiss is gentle at first, almost hesitant. I close my fingers around his shirt and pull him closer, letting myself enjoy something familiar after a night when everything else has been terrifying. I still have questions, and there are things I may never be comfortable with, but for the first time I know enough about this man to decide whether I want to keep kissing him.

And I do.

"Welcome to my humble kingdom," I announce later, stepping through my apartment door.

Rocco contacted my building manager while I was at the hospital. With my permission, a locksmith replaced the damaged section of the frame and installed a new deadbolt. Mrs. Patterson supervised the work, and the door closes securely behind us.

I'm holding the new keys. Tomorrow, the manager and I will discuss the building's master-key access, because there's no way in hell I'm pretending that problem is solved by a shiny new lock.

"You're sure nobody can get in?" I ask, turning the deadbolt twice.

"The locksmith checked it," Enzo says. "And you can choose whatever additional security you want."

I look over my shoulder. "Look at you, not ordering a small army to move into my living room."

"Restraint is becoming a new hobby."

"It's a good look on you."