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“Where in the East Village?”

She hesitated Marco Santini had, thus far, not given her any reason to doubt that his intentions were honorable, but a false address was only wise She thought fast, went down a s and streets not too far from hers and came up with one

“Twenty-two Pascal Street”

Did his eyes narrow just a little? No Why would they?

“Charles? We want twenty-two Pascal You do kno to get there, don’t you?”

The driver coughed “Absolutely, Mr Santini”

“Excellent We’ll take Ms Simmons home first”

The Iroomed eyebrows “Marco, really…”

“Ms Simmons first,” Marco repeated “And then twenty-two Pascal Do you have that, Charles?”

“I do, sir,” the driver said, and the big Mercedes ht

The I on Park Avenue

Charles pulled to the curb, stepped out, opened her door Marco got out, too; The Impeccable Blonde stepped onto the curb, waited until he joined her and then looped her arh his She looked over her shoulder, flashed Emily an icy smile Then she leaned into Marco as if he were a tree and she were a vine

“I’ll be only a minute,” Marco said, but after that little display, Emily doubted it

Not that what he did was any of her business

Besides, there was a subway station only a couple of blocks away and the rain had tapered to a drizzle