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Lena cocked her head to the side. “If the story you want to tell isn’t about your three-way relationship, what is it about?”

Luke certainly wasn’t going to tell her here, in fact, the plan was to avoid telling her the full truth for as long as possible. “It’s about us, about what we are.”

“And what are you?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

Lena reached across the table and grabbed his wrist, two fingers settling on the soft inside. “You have a pulse, so you aren’t A.I. Enhanced military super solider?” she guessed.

“No.” Luke was distracted by her fingers on his wrist. They were soft, with white and pink nails, her skin delectably pale against the dark tint of his human flesh. She started to pull her hand away, but Luke wrapped his fingers around hers, holding her in place. They both looked at their tangled hands, and in an instant, the atmosphere at the table changed.

Luke imagined how they would look pressed against one another. The dichotomy of skin tones on the grand scale of their full naked bodies. Lena’s fingers curled into his, stroking the hollow of his palm, and Luke swallowed. Please let that be the opening strains of human mating rituals.

“I think I know a way to solve our problem.” Lena’s voice was butter smooth and velvet soft. He raised his gaze from their locked hands to her face. Blue eyes peeked at him under dark lashes.

“We have a problem?”

“I think we do. You want me to agree to make a movie about what you are, but won’t tell me precisely what that might be.” Lena slid her fingers from his, then reached up and ran her index finger from the tip of his eyebrow, down over his cheekbone, to the corner of his mouth. “So it looks like I’ll have to find out all on my own.”

She sat back and signaled the waiter for the check.