Page 124 of This Life of Mine

I lift her without thinking and set her on the lip of the desk. She makes a soft sound as her hips meet the wood, her hands sliding up my arms, fingers curling at my shoulders. I step in closer, crowding her space, and kiss her again—slower this time. Deeper. I take my time with it, drawing it out, nipping lightly at her bottom lip before soothing it with my mouth.

She exhales against me, breath shaky.

I kiss along the corner of her mouth, then back again, letting the tension stretch, letting her sense how much I want her without rushing it. My hands brace on either side of her, caging her in without touching, making her tilt her chin to meet me.

She’s intoxicating like this—angry, soft, wanting, resisting. Appealing such that restraint feels like a losing battle.

I want her. All of her.

The kiss turns heavy. Less about urgency now and more about control—about how long we can stay right here before one of us breaks. Her breathing turns uneven, her forehead brushing mine as our mouths linger close, brushing, teasing, not quite pulling away.

Then she presses a hand to my chest.

Gently requesting a small amount of distance.

I still instantly, though every part of me wants to ignore it, wants to pull her back into me and finish what we started.

I force myself to step back, to give her space, even as my body protests the distance.

I stand there like that for a moment—foreheads nearly touching, breaths mingling, the air thick with everything we haven’t said yet.

“Tell me,” she says, voice steady but firm as her fingers stay curled in my shirt. “What do we know?”

I search her face. No fear. Just resolve.

“I want to know,” she adds.

I nod, understanding her request.

“Never again will I keep anything from you,” I say quietly. The significance of that promise stretches between us, unspoken but understood.

I lay it all out for her. Everything Reese and I have pieced together so far. The contracts. The broker. The money trail. The scope of it. I keep it clean, clear, and honest.

When I finish, Lina doesn’t appear frightened. She looks focused.

“We should confront him, David,” she says. “Now. Not later.”

I expected that.

I bob my head. “Not yet, love. There are too many moving parts. If we go at him now, we tip our hand and lose the bigger picture.”

Her jaw tightens. She hates waiting. It’s evident in the way her fingers curl into her palm.

“Reese needs time,” I continue. “He’s following the information we got last night. If we’re patient, he can get us to the source. The person who makes this possible for people like them.”

She exhales, frustration flickering across her face. But then she nods. She gets it, even if she doesn’t like it.

My phone buzzes.

I look at the screen, then back at her. “Looks like I’ll be busy today,” I tell her. “Chasing a few threads.” She studies me, my phone, and then nods.

“Reese is watching for me,” I say. “All the cameras. If anything looks even slightly off, he’ll have backup here quickly.” That eases her a little.

She pulls me closer, lowering her voice. “I want to see you tonight.”

I instantly smile.

“I don’t want to be anywhere else,” I tell her honestly.