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My eyes fill.

"Okay," I whisper.

He kisses my forehead and stays there. His hand slides to the back of my neck, under my hair, holding me close.

I might come apart anyway.

He doesn't let go.

When he pulls back, his thumb moves along my jaw once. He looks at me for another second, seeing what I won't say out loud.

Then he picks up the suitcase.

I follow him into the hall.

Luca stands by the window in the living room.

I haven't really looked at him before. I've seen him, but never long enough to take him in.

I do now.

He's tall. Lean. Not broad like Valentino. Narrower through the shoulders, sharper in the face.

Dark short hair. Rough jaw. A man's face. Nothing strange until my eyes move lower.

His neck.

Ink climbs from his collar to his jaw. More disappears beneath his sleeves. His wrists. His hands. His knuckles. A thin black line runs down the side of his throat and vanishes under his shirt.

He turns when we come in, and his eyes meet mine for half a second. Then he looks away. The window. The door. The suitcase in Valentino's hand. Anywhere but me.

He looks again because I'm moving through the room, and he can't help tracking it.

Then away.

Fast.

Like someone told him not to.

I almost laugh.

It's ridiculous, and I want to tell him I'm not that fragile.

I don't say a thing, because I know exactly what happened. Valentino talked to him. Whatever he said, Luca decided looking at me too long is a mistake.

I swallow the laugh.

"Luca."

His eyes drop before they can settle on my face. "Signora."

"Thank you for driving."

"It's the job." His gaze stays on the floor.

Valentino sets the suitcase by the door. Very careful. Too careful. He lines it up with the wall, adjusts the handle, then adjusts it again. The bag gives him something to fix besides this.

"Five minutes," Valentino says.