TWO

Zarek

Stepping further into her apartment, my gaze darted to a small urn and a portrait of a charming cat perched atop a bookshelf.

"I'm sorry about," I leaned in to read the name inscribed on the urn, "Ada."

She shot me a look of mild amusement and commanded, "Take off your jacket."

"We're not—" I began, but my words faltered as she shrugged off her denim jacket and draped it over a chair by the kitchen island. Beneath the jacket, her figure was unexpectedly striking—tall, slender, yet defined in all the right places. The jacket had concealed much more than I expected, including the pert little ass she'd been hiding in those cargo pants. Despite the stabbing pain in my gut, a different heat flared within me.

"Whatever you're thinking, stop. I need to check that wound," she interjected, snapping me back to the present. Needless to say, her confidence was unshaken. If only she knew who she let into her apartment.

She vanished into what appeared to be the bathroom and returned clutching a first aid kit and a damp towel. I reluctantly shed my jacket, wincing as the fabric moved over the fresh gash—a painful reminder of my underestimation back in the alley. I should've known there were two perps.

Carefully, I placed my jacket on the floor to avoid staining her belongings and eased myself onto the couch.

"May I?" she asked politely, her fingers poised to lift my shirt. As she began to gently clean the wound, her brow furrowed in concentration, capturing my full attention.

"You do this often?" I asked.

"What? Bring home injured men and clean up after them?" she chuckled and I decided that it was the best sound I had heard all day.

"What's your name?" I asked.

"Leora." She said softly.

Leora.

Suddenly, she was all I could see. My heart started running a million beats a minute. Her name was as beautiful as her, striking in a way that captured you, enamored you, ruined you. The glow of her tawny skin set against her dark braids gave her the aura of a warrior goddess—both my doom and my salvation wrapped into one.

What the fuck is going on with me?

"I'm Zarek," I blurted out, the words tumbling out before I could clamp down on the impulse. Stupid, revealing my real name, but the confession was already hanging between us. "I thought you should know, given you sort of saved my life back there."

"Sort of?" she quirked an eyebrow, pausing.

"Yeah, when you were handling the other guy, the first one tried to attack you with a knife. I stopped him." I angled my face towards her and smiled. "I guess we both owe each other a thank you."

"Well, thank you," she murmured softly, her focus returning to the wound. She wiped away the last of the blood with practiced ease, her expression unreadable.

What kind of a woman doesn't flinch over a stab wound?

She was an enigma. Her body was taut the entire time, coiled like a spring. Her high alert was understandable—I was, after all, a stranger who had barged into her life. Yet, I couldn't bring myself to leave. Hell, why was I even here? There was something about her, a pull that seemed to beckon me closer.

I was drawn to her, compelled to stay and unravel the mystery of the woman who had unexpectedly saved me.

"I think this needs stitches. I'm not qualified for that, neither do I have equipment," she said.

"It's fine. We can just bandage it up. I'll get medical attention tomorrow."

She carefully bandaged the wound and then gently pulled my t-shirt back down. "You shouldn't keep this t-shirt on; it's wet, and it's cold outside."

"Oh, I'm not planning on going anywhere tonight. But I wouldn't mind borrowing a woman's t-shirt for the night," I said with a smile.

She squinted her eyes. "Who are you, really?"

"I told you, I'm Zarek," I responded, trying to maintain a neutral expression .

"Why were you stabbed in the middle of an alley?"

"Wasn't it because I was chasing the two men you so bravely saved me from?"

"Don't play dumb. Tell me why. Should I be scared of you?" Her gaze was intense, probing, and though her face was stoic, I caught the flicker of fear in her eyes—a fear I knew I had caused.

"I'm not here to hurt you, Leora," I said, reaching slowly for my wallet to not startle her. She flinched slightly, watching my every move. I pulled out my police badge—a decoy issued by my team for interactions with civilians.

She inhaled sharply and whispered, "So you are a narc then."

"I'm in law enforcement, not a narc. What about you? I did just witness you assaulting two men."

"I'm pretty sure I deserve a badge of my own now," she laughed and I realized I was wrong before. This was the best sound I had heard all day, hell all year!

She excused herself to wash her hands and vanished into her bedroom through the adjoining bathroom. When she returned with a large T-shirt, a pang of curiosity struck me. It was a men's T-shirt. Did she have a boyfriend? Why was I even concerned?

"Here," she tossed it to me nonchalantly.

"Whose is this?" I couldn't help but ask.

"Jealous?" she teased with a smile. "It's mine. I prefer men's clothing."

I nodded, feigning indifference, yet a wave of relief washed over me.

Knock it off, Zar!

I quickly changed into the T-shirt she provided, tossing my blood-soaked shirt atop my jacket. When I turned around, I caught Leora watching me intently. Had she observed me changing? I hadn't exactly hidden myself. A smirk appeared on my face, prompting her to roll her eyes dramatically.

"‘Like what you see?'" she mocked in a deep voice.

"I wasn't going to say that," I chuckled.

"Oh please! You know you're hot. No need to pretend you're not flirting with your body."

Her voice echoed in my head as she called me out. I stood there, regretting my forwardness. I was usually more cautious, given the dangerous edges of my job. But there I was, right in her space, unintentionally sending all the wrong—or maybe the right—signals. This wasn't me, or at least it shouldn't have been.

I had to clear the air, fast. "Listen, I understand this situation is unusual, but I assure you, I'm not flirting with you with my body—or flirting at all."

The moment the words left my mouth, her expression dropped to one of embarrassment. I immediately regretted the sharpness in my tone. I hadn't meant to come across so harshly. But the damage was done.

"Uh, I'll head to bed. The spare room is that way."

She gestured and retreated to her bedroom so swiftly, I didn't get a chance to explain further.