Page 27 of Mario
She will ask questions with that composed face and those cool gray-green eyes. She will notice what others miss. She will press where she shouldn’t.
She should be more afraid.
I suspect she will be.
I suspect she will come anyway.
My phone lights up on the desk with a message from Lorenzo.
Murray received the revisions. She says she’ll respond tonight.
I read it twice.
Then I put the phone down.
Outside the study, somewhere in the house, Matteo is settled down with his book.
Somewhere beyond the gates, Tomasso is on his way to a woman who may or may not matter tomorrow.
And here, in my hand, is the first thread of a problem I have no business pulling.
Victoria Murray.
I sit behind my desk, open the document, and begin to read.
Chapter Three
Victoria
The day after I meet Mario Conti for the first time, I’m back in his building with a visitor badge on my blazer, my briefcase over my shoulder, and a very firm lecture playing in my head.
You are a professional.
You have just taken on your first big client.
Do not screw this up.
Ground rules:
Do not think about the client’s hand in yours.
Do not think about the client’s smile.
Do not imagine the client’s voice saying your name in that sexy accent.
And for the love of God, do not think about the sex dream you had about the client last night.
By the time the elevator reaches the thirty-second floor, I have failed at all four of them.
The elevator doors open, and I step out with my face arranged into what I hope is a calm, competent expression and not the face of a woman who woke up furious with her own subconscious.
Because honestly.
A sex dream.
Not even a vague one. Not even the merciful kind that disappears the second you wake up and leaves behind nothing but warmth and confusion.
No, my mind produceddetails. Like,all the details.
