Luca’s grip was firm but not forceful. His fingers wrapped around my wrist, holding me in place as I made to leave.
"Stay," he murmured.
I should have pulled away. I should have reminded him who I was—what I was planning. But the weariness in his voice made me pause.
"Just for a moment." His voice was quieter now, strained from the pain he tried so hard to mask.
Reluctantly, I let him guide me back. He shifted slightly, wincing, and I found myself adjusting to ease his discomfort.
I cursed my own weakness when I didn’t resist as he pulled me into his embrace. My head rested against his bare chest, his heartbeat steady beneath my cheek. I hated the way my body relaxed against him.
It was the same way he had held me the night he cleaned my wounds—back when I wanted nothing more than to
