“Don’t push,” I repeat, and it’s not a question. I demand. In other words, he’s telling me I was right earlier. We’re back to secrets. I don’t like it. And so, I do push. I push away from him. “I can’t run in this weather. I’m going downstairs to workout,” I add, referencing the gym and sparring area he had installed years back, even before my attack. I try to move past him to get to the closet where I can get dressed.

He catches me to him and rotates to press his back to the doorframe and hold me in front of him. “We’ll spar together.” His voice is dark, his eyes darker. “I’ll help you change.”

“No,” I say, my hand firmly on his bare chest, and the thunder of his heart beneath my palm defies his cool, calm, fuck-me-into-submission attitude that he knows won’t work. But I guess he has to try. He isn’t tattooed up like his father before him, I think rather randomly, though it’s really not that random at all. Kane doesn’t need ink on his skin to tell the story of who he is and what he does. The world knows when he walks into a room that he’s a leader. But he’s not my leader. He still doesn’t seem to get that.

“Lilah,” he says softly, and in that moment, he’s all kinds of dark and wrong for me. And yet, I’m just as dark and wrong, and I still want him. I still want his ring on my finger. But he promised me no more secrets.

“I need to workout,” I say, pushing out of his arms, and this time, he lets me go.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

I hurry into the closet and exchange Kane’s T-shirt for leggings, a sports bra, a tank, and sneakers. When I enter the bedroom again, he’s missing. Of course. He’s got things to do that he needs privacy to get done. Anger burns in my belly, as does the challenge of a murder unsolved, that claws at me with unforgiving insistence.

Fifteen minutes later, I’m on the mats working on the karate I’ve been mastering for years, since my attack, since my promise to myself I’d never be weak without my weapon again. Kane has pressed me to freshen up as of late, to use it more often, to practice. On that, he’d been right. I’d softened up on my karate, and I feared, become too dependent not on my firearm, but on a blade.

And so, I do practice the best I can on my own.

Another fifteen minutes later, Kane appears on the opposite side of the mat, and I swear the man drips arrogance and confidence no matter if he’s wearing an expensive suit or as he is now, sweats and a snug T-shirt.