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CHAPTER ONE

AS SOON as she heard hi

Very wrong

‘Shelley?’

Shelley frowned at the intercom ‘Yes, Marco?’

‘Are you busy?’ He spoke every word as if it were poetry Sexy, deep, strong, lyrical The kind of voice that drove women crazy Shelley had seen it for herself, time after time

Waitresses would go ga-ga for that voice Female bank employees would flutter their eyelashes—even wo on to him like small-town hookers Actually, they were the worst Rich, confident, bored ed women who fancied the idea of an Italian lover in their bed And out of it!

Shelley wondered if he was being hounded by one of the more persistent females It happened Maybe that hy he wanted to speak to her—to ask her to let his pursuer know in the nicest possible way that he was definitely not available!

‘No, I’ue she had been studying on his behalf Marco was currently the hottest art dealer on the international circuit, and Shelleythe wheels of his life—so that it ran as smoothly as possible ‘What’s up?’

‘We need to talk’

‘I’ue and pushed it to the front of her desk

‘Good’ Seconds later he appeared at her door, al outside in the corridor, like a person waiting to be interviewed

Shelley stared at hi okay?’

He hesitated, thick black lashes shading the ebony glitter of his eyes ‘I’m not quite sure how to answer that’

She watched while he caht-filled rooh to call her office Watched his air of distraction as he walked over to theto gaze out at the lake beyond The litter and throw back the intense golden light—as if someone had scattered the surface with sequins

He turned back to face her and, as always, Shelley derived intense pleasure just fro or a perfect sky She kne lucky she was and how many people envied her—with her perfect job and her perfect boss

‘Shall I make us some coffee?’

He shook his head ‘No Thanks’

For the first time, she noticed the unfamiliar shadows beneath his eyes and deep in her subconscious little warning bells began ringing sounds of danger Marco always slept like a baby ‘So, isn’t it?’ she said

He sat down opposite her and spread his hands expansively, in a very Italian way ‘Not wrong—just different Soed’

‘Don’t speak in riddles, Marco,’ she implored ‘You know I can’t stand suspense! I’o to see the!’