Peter took a deep breath to calm his racing heart. "We need to get to work," he said gently. They reviewed what they had worked on the previous visit. Peter answered Luka's questions, and then they went on. They spoke back and forth, and Peter helped Luka read out loud to aid in p.r.o.nunciation. Learning a language took practice, both speaking and listening to it. Luka was getting that, and he was advancing quickly.

"Do you speak to the people you work with?"

Luka tilted his hand from side to side.

"You need to do that more. They will help you learn the specific English words in your profession. That isn't something I can help you with."

"What if they laugh?" Luka asked.

"They won't," Peter told him. "They will most likely help you if you ask them. The more you speak, the more comfortable you'll become. You will make mistakes, but you'll learn as well."

Luka looked up from the book they were using. "What if they think I stupid?"

"Then they're stupid, because you're a very smart man," Peter told him, and Luka smiled. They got back to work and finished the lesson. Peter gave Luka some additional exercises. Luka returned some of the CDs and videos, and Peter gave him different ones.

"The Little Polar Bear," Luka read, holding one of the videos. "Is for children."

"Yes. But it uses a limited vocabulary, and they enunciate clearly. The important thing is that you understand what is being said."

Luka appeared extremely skeptical.

"Just watch it." Peter wanted to tell him not to get engrossed in the story, but it was impossible.

"If you sure," Luka said and took the video to the living room.

Peter packed up his materials and made sure he'd left everything he wanted to with Luka.

"You like to sit?" Luka asked, motioning toward the living room. "I have drink." Luka opened the refrigerator and motioned to what he had.

Peter took a c.o.ke, and Luka grabbed a beer. Peter followed him into the living room, and they sat side by side on the sofa.

"Was it hard getting out of Serbia?" Peter asked and then opened his can of soda.

Luka didn't look at him. "For me, yes," he said in Serbian. "I was a scientist at a government lab. We were founded years ago under an old regime, and no one ever cut our funding. We brought in money because of our work in genetics, so they kept funding us. Originally, where I worked started under the socialist regime and continued through the political upheaval that followed its collapse. I was schooled by the government and then put to work in the lab."

"Didn't you have a choice?" Peter asked.

"As soon as I took the money from the government for my schooling, I did not. I had to work for them for a number of years, and after that, there was no place else I could go. I knew too much, and they would not let me work anyplace else. My country has changed a lot, but some things stay the same. Years ago, Josif and Bella came to visit, and they offered to help me leave if I wanted to. They said there were places I could work here in this country and that I could be happy. It took a long time for them to arrange things and to communicate back and forth because my mail was sometimes being read. But they eventually got me a message that I could have a job here and a place to live if I could get out. That was two years ago."

"What happened? Did they try to make you stay?" Peter asked.

"I stayed because I could not leave Misha." Luka stood up and walked to a small table in the corner of the room. He picked up a picture and handed it to Peter. "That was my Misha."

Peter looked at the photograph.

"After he died from a fever, I could not stay anymore. I wrote to Josif and Bella and told them that I wanted to come here. I spent the money to call them, and they arranged for plane tickets and paperwork with your government. I did not ask if I could leave Belgrade. I just left."

"Did you sell things?"

"No. I took what I had in one suitcase and my one carry bag. I did not have much." Luka took the picture gently from Peter's hand and placed it carefully back on the table. "I was scared the entire time I waited in the airport. Then I boarded the plane and it took off." He waved his hands in the air. "I was free. I did not know if they would stop me, but I did not want to take the chance that the plane would be ordered back. "

"What about your family?" Peter asked.

Luka shook his head. "They weren't happy when I told them about Misha."

Peter understood exactly what Luka meant.

"They told me that I was no longer their son."

Peter was sure there was a lot more to it than that, but he didn't want to pry. This whole subject seemed painful to Luka.

"That was years ago. It hurt, but I had Misha and we were happy."

Peter nodded his understanding. "Can I ask how old you are?"

Luka took a swig from his beer bottle. "Thirty-four."

Peter was shocked. He'd pictured Luka as twenty-seven at the most. Instead, Luka was a few years older than him. "I wouldn't have guessed."

Luka grinned. "My parents look younger than their years too. Misha was younger than me, but he looked older. We always teased each other about that."

Peter expected Luka to be sad, but he saw life and happiness in his eyes.

"I was sad for a long time," Luka said, as if reading Peter's mind. "But Misha and I were happy together. We had a good life for three years." Luka paused. "He was a good man," he added. "We loved each other. Now he watches from heaven."

"Do you ever feel conflicted between what you feel for Misha and what the church teaches?" Peter asked.

"I used to. My parents did. But I don't anymore. I know Misha is in heaven and he's watching out for me. The rest is what everyone else thinks." Luka blinked a few times. "I'm a scientist. I think rationally. I haven't gone to church regularly since before Misha died. Mostly when I have, it's for the tradition and comfort rather than a deep religious belief." Luka drank more of his beer. "Have you had many boyfriends?"

Peter scoffed and then shook his head. "I've never had a boyfriend. I've dated a few people, but it never lasted for very long." He drank his c.o.ke and settled back on the sofa. He felt surprisingly relaxed. He was rarely like this around other people. He always tried to be friendly and helpful, but those same things acted like a barrier and allowed him to remain at a slight distance without truly trusting others. He could help, and then he went home once they no longer needed him.

Luka shifted and placed his bottle on the coffee table. "Has no one ever-?" Luka spoke softly in his native tongue, the words soft and resonant. "Have you ever been loved?"

A wave of loneliness washed over him. Peter took a deep breath. "I was. A long time ago. But I don't think I have been for a very long time. I haven't deserved to be loved." He sounded whiny and pushed the maudlin thoughts from his mind. The problem was, they didn't want to leave and kept coming, piling one on top of the other. He wanted to ask how Luka could be here with him. When he turned his head, he found Luka staring intently back at him. "How can you look at me like that? What about Misha?"

"He would want me to be happy," Luka countered. "I loved him very much, and I always will. But he's not here anymore. When I first got the offer to move here, Misha wanted me to take it. He said I could have a better life here, but I wouldn't leave him. He was angry with me at first, because he said I was throwing away what could be the best opportunity I would ever have for a better life. Misha worked in a factory, and between us we never had very much. He said I deserved more than he could give me." Luka blinked a few times in rapid succession. "That was when I knew how much he really loved me."

"Because he wanted you to leave?" Peter asked skeptically.

"No," Luka said, chuckling. "Because he was willing to let me go. He wanted me to be happy more than he wanted himself to be happy. That was true love. When he got sick, Misha made me promise that if anything happened to him that I would move on and be happy again." Peter heard a hitch in Luka's voice. "So I mourned for him, and now it's time I moved on. It's what Misha would have wanted."

"Is that why you kissed me? So you could prove you had moved on?"

Luka shifted on the sofa. "No. I kissed you because I wanted to kiss you." He moved closer. "Just like I want to kiss you now." He cupped Peter's cheek with his hand and gently guided their lips together. Peter's breath caught, and Luka kissed him hard, then sucked on his lower lip. Peter couldn't stop the moan that welled from his chest. Luka's own taste mixed with the headiness of the beer was almost overwhelming. Peter pressed forward, taking Luka into his arms. He held him close and used his weight to push Luka back against the cushions.

Luka held him, deepening the kiss, cupping Peter's head. Luka thrust his tongue into Peter's mouth for a few seconds, and when Peter reciprocated, Luka sucked on it, his lips wet, hot, and the most sensual experience of Peter's life.

"Luka, I...," Peter said, pulling away. He gasped for air and stared at Luka, wondering what the h.e.l.l was happening.

"Quiet," Luka said in English. "Talk too much." He grinned and tugged Peter into another kiss.

Peter started slightly as Luka slid his hands down his back and then firmly cupped his b.u.t.t through Peter's pants. d.a.m.n, it felt good to be touched this way. His head swam, and Luka must have felt the effect he was having on him because he kissed him hard, sucking and probing. Peter figured his lips would be swollen and red for days, but he didn't give a d.a.m.n. Let everyone see that he'd been kissed to within an inch of his life. All he cared about was that Luka didn't stop, and from his intensity, he didn't seem to want to.

"I...," Peter whimpered as Luka placed a finger on his lips. He got the idea-talk was definitely overrated. Luka shook under him, and Peter followed Luka's lead. The last thing he wanted was for this to stop. He pushed away the doubts that seemed to swell inside him that this was simply too good to be true and that he didn't deserve this kind of happiness, even if it was temporary.

"Peter, no worry," Luka whispered to him, his lips so close Peter could feel his breath. "I no hurt you." Luka kissed him harder, sending a jolt of frenetic happiness through him.

"How can you say that?" Peter asked. "You don't know me very well." He stilled, sighing softly.

"You do that a lot," Luka told him. "Why you sigh?"

"I told you I don't deserve-" Peter's words were cut off when Luka kissed him again.

"You talk too much." Luka grabbed his b.u.t.t hard, holding him still and kissing Peter hard. Peter throbbed in his pants and his mind began shutting down. Everything narrowed to just him and Luka. All his doubts receded and his mind was still for what almost seemed like the first time in his life. He went with the sensation and the affection he felt with each of Luka's caresses.

He could barely control himself. Peter began thrusting his hips slowly, throbbing in his pants, wanting some sort of release. "Luka, I can't," Peter said as he pulled away. "I can't do this here." Luka shifted under him, and Peter backed away, lifting himself off Luka. "This is too much," Peter gasped, running a hand through his hair. "You're too much." His brain had short-circuited, and he forced his breathing to slow down, taking regular, deep breaths while staring at Luka. "How can you not see what I am?"

Luka shifted again. "I don't understand. You talk riddles."

"I don't mean to," Peter whispered.

"You say more when you quiet," Luka said. "Body. Lips"-Luka waved his hand in front of him-"say more than mouth." Luka shook his head and then cupped Peter's cheeks gently. "Let body speak." Luka pressed to him, and Peter moved backward, letting Luka do the driving. He quickly ended up back on the cushions with Luka pressed against him, and he reveled in it.

Peter's mind whirled in happy circles, his body throbbed, and he was about to come in his pants like some h.o.r.n.y seventeen-year-old. He swallowed hard and pulled away. "We need to stop," he said breathily, trying to make his brain work. He needed a few minutes to gather his thoughts. Luka shifted, and Peter sat up, moving out from under Luka. Luka was breathing hard as well, and when Peter glanced at him, disappointment showed plainly on Luka's face. Peter slid closer, lightly tugging Luka to his side. "We need to take things slower," he said as an explanation.

"Oh," Luka whispered and rested his head against Peter's shoulder.

When he'd met guys in the past, Peter had usually done one thing with them-have s.e.x. The few relationships he'd had had been one-night stands that extended a few weeks or a month, but that was all. He didn't want that with Luka. Not that he really understood what he did want. Well... that wasn't true. Deep down, Peter knew he wanted to be loved, but wanting something and deserving it were two very different things.

"I think I should go," Peter said and slowly stood up. He turned around and leaned close, kissing Luka lightly on the lips. He knew if he did anything more, he'd end up back on that sofa, and this time he'd tear the clothes off Luka's compact body and find out what scientists have under their geeky clothes.

"You still come to hospital?" Luka asked.

"Yes," Peter said. "I'll pick you up at five thirty tomorrow. This is not good-bye, just slowing things down." Peter stroked Luka's stubbly cheek and then turned to leave. He picked up his bag in the kitchen and walked to the back door.

He waited for Luka and then said a quiet good-night. They kissed one more time before Peter opened the door and stepped out into the night. He walked to his car and got in, then started the engine. He saw Luka wave from his doorway, and Peter waved back, regardless of whether Luka could see him or not. Then he slowly pulled out of his parking s.p.a.ce and traveled down the alley.

He pa.s.sed a man walking in the same direction he was going. Peter recognized the guy's clothes from earlier. As he pa.s.sed, he saw the man turn toward him. Something wasn't right, and since Luka lived just down the way, he picked up his phone and called the nonemergency number for the police as soon as he was out of the alley and could safely pull over. They said they would have an officer drive down the alley and that others had reported the man loitering there.

Peter felt better and hung up. Then he pulled onto the street and continued home. He wondered if he should call Luka, but decided against it in case it was nothing.

Chapter 4.

LUKA HURRIED HURRIED home from work, walking from the bus stop as fast as he could. He unlocked the door and climbed quickly to his bedroom. He got out of his work clothes, washed up, and put on a fresh shirt. Peter would arrive at any minute to take him to the hospital to see Bella, and he was excited about both prospects. He checked how he looked in the mirror and then hurried back into the bathroom to shave. home from work, walking from the bus stop as fast as he could. He unlocked the door and climbed quickly to his bedroom. He got out of his work clothes, washed up, and put on a fresh shirt. Peter would arrive at any minute to take him to the hospital to see Bella, and he was excited about both prospects. He checked how he looked in the mirror and then hurried back into the bathroom to shave.

He was just finishing up when he heard the knock at the door. He grabbed a towel and wiped his face as he hurried down the stairs. He set the towel aside and peered out the window before pulling the door open. Peter smiled at him, and Luka stepped back. "I get my things," Luka said and hurried to grab his wallet, keys, and phone. Once he was ready, he moved toward the door, but Peter paused, looking at him. Then Peter gave him a gentle kiss. It didn't deepen, but Luka felt better. He'd been worried after Peter had left the night before that he'd pushed too hard.

"Let's go see Bella," Peter said after breaking the kiss.

Luka agreed and locked the door after they left. He followed Peter to his car and got in. Then they headed out. Peter looked around him as they slowly moved down the alley. "What wrong?"

"Nothing," Peter said. "I saw a man hanging around the alley last night. I called the police and they were going to drive through. I wanted to make sure he wasn't here again."

"I see man too," Luka said, shifting in his seat. "I think they watch for me."

Peter pulled to a stop. "Why?"

"Government looking for me, I think," he said as nonchalantly as he could. "I not know for sure." His insides turned.

"I don't see anyone now. Did you see anyone this morning or afternoon when you came home from work?"

Luka shook his head. "No." It didn't make him feel much better, because he knew people could be watching without him seeing them.

"It's probably nothing. Maybe it was a neighbor out for a walk. I might have overreacted, but since you live here I was concerned." Peter glanced over and gave Luka a quick smile. "The police were just going to drive through the alley. Sometimes making their presence known will deter people."

Luka understood what Peter was saying, but the unsettled feeling in his stomach didn't go away. He was in this country legally, so he knew he had nothing to fear from the police, but they still bothered him. Back home they were an instrument of the government and often acted first and asked questions later.

Peter patted his leg lightly. "Let's go to the hospital."

Luka forced his mind off the worry and smiled as he thought about seeing his cousin. They rode to the hospital and parked before going inside. By now Luka knew the way to Bella's room, and she smiled as he walked inside.

"Luka, honey," she said in Serbian and then began to cry. Luka hurried to her and hugged her tight. This happened every time he visited. Bella was still hurting so badly. "They say I can come home in a few days."

"I hope so," Luka told her.

"Half the church has been up to see me," she told him.

Luka nodded. He knew she would have plenty of company and support, but he also knew from experience that it didn't dull the pain of loss. Only time did that, and she hadn't had enough of it.

"But I miss him." She carefully reached for a tissue from the tray and brought it to her eyes.

"I know you do," Peter said as he came forward. He approached the bed and took her hand. "It's okay to miss him, and you're allowed to cry and feel bad about it." Luka heard a hitch in Peter's voice. "You're also allowed to be angry and upset as well. It's all normal."

"I don't want to be any of those things. I just want Josif back." She broke into tears for a few moments. Luka stood nearby as Peter held her hand.

"You've been through a lot, and you know there's a lot still to go."

"I missed his funeral," Bella said between sobs.

"I know. It was beautiful," Peter said. "It reflected what Josif believed and was attended by people who loved him. I know you couldn't be there, but we sent him on his journey in the best way possible." She sniffed and seemed to calm down. Luka wondered how Peter did that. He seemed to make her feel better. "When you can get around, we'll take you out to the cemetery if you like. He was buried with his family. No one knew what you two wanted, and his mother and father offered a place."

She sniffed again. "They've been up to see me," she said and once again broke into tears.