The Roman's Woman (A Singular Obsession Book 4) (17 page)

Gritting her teeth, she silently conceded defeat. She didn’t want to go to her father’s house but what choice did she have now?

“I’ll get back to you. My plate’s a little full right at the moment.”

“Yes, it would appear so.”

Richard’s tone was distracted, and she realized he wasn’t looking at her anymore. Confused, she glanced over her shoulder through the plate glass window behind them.

A gorgeous Italian billionaire was standing on the sidewalk, staring at her possessively. His suit still appeared as crisp and clean as it had this morning, but then he always managed to stay neat and perfect. It would have been irritating if he wasn’t so hot.

“So that’s Gio Morgese. He looks very…sophisticated.” Richard’s tone implied just the opposite. “I didn’t realize he was going to be picking you up.”

Neither did I.

“He’s shorter in person, isn’t he?”

No, he’s taller.

Outside, Gio gave her a little nod, his hands in his pockets.

She shot to her feet and grabbed her purse. “I have to run, Richard. I’ll get back to you about coming around to the house.”

“Fine, darling, fine,” he said absently, trying to be subtle about the close inspection of his replacement.

Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, she hurried outside before Gio decided to come inside—she could smell the testosterone from here.

Richard is trying to get her back.

It was obvious. The man kept leaning in and trying to touch her hand, even when she was signing paperwork, for crying out loud.

And there he goes again.

One more, and Gio was going to go in there to beat the crap out of the good professor. He looked like an academic, too—of the overbred chinless variety.

Except he had a chin. Richard wasn’t hideously ugly, as much as Gio wanted to believe otherwise. He had those pale good looks of the English upper class, the weak kind that would fall apart in middle age. No doubt Richard did well with women in the University environment, where sheltered co-eds were easily impressed by a clever turn of phrase and a tweed coat.

Gio stood outside stewing until his fixed attention was noticed by the occupants of the cafe. Sophia turned and saw him waiting on the sidewalk. She didn’t look happy to see him. Perhaps he should have warned her he was coming back early.

She didn’t waste any time saying goodbye to her ex. Fortunately, for his equilibrium, all Richard received was a distracted wave as she headed for the door.

“
Bongiorno, mi amore
,” he said, putting his arms around her and giving her a warm and very visible kiss.

He didn’t fool her for a second. She gave him an exasperated glare and pulled him down the street, away from the cafe, putting on her coat and scarf as they went.

“What are you doing here?”

Merda
, she sounded mad.

“You said you were meeting Richard at the cafe near Kelly’s place. That is her place, isn’t it?” he asked, gesturing across the street.

“I meant, why aren’t you in London?”

“My meeting was rescheduled so I headed back early.”

“Of course it was.”

Red warning lights started flashing in his head, but he ignored them. “What does that mean?”

She stopped and spun around to face him. “It means, did you reschedule it or did the other guy?”

“My associate canceled,” he lied.

Sophia’s lips pursed and she tapped her foot. Even when she was angry, she was so damn sexy.

“
Gio
.”

Distracted by the delicious fullness of her lips, he’d lost his train of thought, a dangerous thing when a woman was irritated with you.

“Yes,
bella mia
?”

“Don’t
bella mia
me. I know you came back early because I was meeting Richard. But there was no reason to. You don’t have to be jealous.”

“I’m not jealous,” he protested, growing warm despite the sharp bite in the air.

“If you’re not, then what are you doing here?”

“I was concerned,” he said, reaching over to adjust the scarf inadequately covering her. He wrapped it around her neck and closed her coat more firmly against the wind.

Her face softened, and she put a hand over his. “There’s no reason to be.”

Was she serious? He threw up his hands, finally losing his patience.

“Sophia, that man called you ten times a day when we were in Italy. He’s stalking you!”

She laughed.

“It’s not funny.”

Sobering, she wiped the smile off her face and tilted her head at him. “It would be if you knew him. Richard never does anything if it’s the slightest bit inconvenient for him. Stalking anyone would be too much of a strain. But he is a pest ’cause he refuses to text on principle. He wrote a paper on how texting and instant messaging is destroying civilization. And if you’re ignoring his voicemails, like I have been since the breakup, he calls and calls until you give up and answer.”

“So he’s a luddite. Doesn’t change the fact that he’s trying to win you back,” he said.

Sophia stopped and for a moment she looked young and confused. “Yeah, maybe, but I'm not sure why.”

Her voice was soft and her eyes were distant like she was mulling it over.

“For the obvious reasons,” he said, a little sharply.

That got her attention. Her eyes met his and she cocked her head at him. “And what are those?”

Time seemed to stand still while as he gazed into her gingerbread brown eyes. “You’re beautiful, smart, funny…you’re everything.”

“
Damn
.”

“What?”

“I want to stay mad at you, and then you go and say a thing like that.”

His shoulders relaxed. “I’m not wrong about any of it. I didn’t like the look on his face now. He’s not safe to be around.”

He could tell she was trying hard not to laugh again, so he threw an arm around her and pulled her into his side. “But you’re right. I have no reason to be jealous. This is the end. You signed the papers for the house and you don’t have to see him again, right?”

Sophia wrinkled her nose and mumbled something.

“I didn’t catch that.”

Hesitating, she glanced up at him and then away. “I told him he could have the car, too.”

“Sophia, really!”

“Calm down and stop waving like you’re being attacked by a bee. People are starting to stare.”

He looked around, spotting a pair of track-suited geriatrics watching them curiously.

“I’ll buy the car,” he said.

“
No
. I don’t want it around. It’s a piece of junk with terrible mileage. The backseat is broken, too. I’d rather let Richard have it since he cares so much. If my father had bothered to leave a will, he’d probably have given it to him, anyway.”

That didn’t make him feel any better. “Are you sure that’s what you want? You might regret giving that last piece of your father away someday. Then you’ll have to deal with your ex to get it back.”

“Trust me, I won’t want it back.”

Her phone buzzed, and she glanced down at the screen. It was a text from Richard, with a message he could see clearly over her shoulder.

Please call me if you need help with the Italian.

“
F
iglio di troia
. Is he serious?” Gio growled, snatching up her phone. “I thought he didn’t text on principle.”

Sophia avoided his eyes. “It’s the first text he’s ever sent me.”

And it was about him, offering help as if he was some kind of villain.

Because God hated him, the phone buzzed again and he lost it. He snatched the device from her hands and threw it into the middle of the street where it was immediately run over by a passing car.

“Gio!”

Shocked at his own behavior, he froze.

“Goddammit, Gio, all of my contacts were in there, my calendar—”

He grabbed her hand. “I am so sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

He looked at the phone, wondering if it had survived when another car, a bigger one, ran over it a second time. Wincing, he squeezed Sophia’s fingers until she met his eyes.

“I’ll buy you a new one—a better one. The most expensive one money can buy.”

She glared at him. “I don’t want a more expensive one. I want
that one
,” she said, pointing at the wreckage that used to be her phone.

He cringed. It was in several large pieces now.

“I can run out and grab it. My tech guys from the bank might be able to recover some data from the SIM card,” he offered, preparing to dart out into the busy street.

Sophia clutched his arm. “Don’t. You’ll get hit by a car…I have a backup of the data on my laptop.”

Relieved, he hugged her. “That’s great!”

But she was still upset. Putting a hand between them, she shoved him away. “Go home, Gio.”

Oh, he’d fucked this up.

“Sophia, I am so sorry.”

Her eyes closed. “I know that, but it doesn’t make this okay. You can’t keep flying off the handle like that and expect an apology to make it all better.”

“I don’t. I swear I’m not usually this insane. But you can’t trust this guy,” he said, gesturing back to the cafe.

She passed a hand over her face, and he hung his head. He was losing ground rapidly. He shouldn’t have come, but it had been hard to stay away knowing she was going to be alone with a former lover.

And now she was selling her father’s car to him, too? He should have Enzo make Richard an offer for the damn thing after Sophia rid herself of it. One he couldn’t refuse.

Merda
. His possesiveness was turning him into the godfather. Also, Richard looked like the type to whine to Sophia the minute Gio had his back turned. It was best to leave things alone. He would have the man watched, however. If his friend Alex’s situation with his wife’s stalker, Stephen Wainwright, had taught him anything, it was to proceed with caution—and to trust no one of the opposite sex around his woman.

Giving up, he kissed her forehead. “I’m still sorry, and I’m going home now to think about what I’ve done,” he said in an appropriately chastised tone.

Sophia’s lip quirked. “Good.”

“I don’t suppose you want to come with me?” he asked, waving to his driver.

The man was standing next to the car down the block.

“No. Kelly’s waiting for me with a very large bottle of wine. I’ll see you at your place later. Besides, I drove here.”

Disappointed he couldn’t sweep her off, he nodded.

“Okay. Do me a favor. Wait a while after the wine before getting behind the wheel. I’ll wait for you at home.”

He bit his tongue, but Sophia didn’t notice his sudden distraction. Instead, she gave him a narrow-eyed glance before walking away.

He made sure she was safely inside Kelly’s apartment building before he left, thinking over his little slip.

Home was where Sophia was. It was just a matter of time before she became aware of his intentions—and heaven help him if she was this mad at him when she did.

“I’m going to get you for this.”

“Sophia,
mi amore
, calm down. Keep your eyes on me—”

“I’m going to smash all of your espresso cups and throw out your grappa!”

“It’s only a few more minutes before we reach the airport,” Gio assured her, pulling her to him and rubbing her back.

In the headset, he heard his pilot snicker.

He and Sophia were in the back seat of his Eurocopter EC 135. They were on their way to the airport, where his private jet was waiting. It was a long weekend and he’d talked Sophia into spending it in Rome with him, instead of working through it the way she usually did.

The trip was originally intended as a romantic getaway, but he’d heard from his father a few hours ago. Salvatore had organized the whole family to come over for cocktails tonight.

Sophia had taken the news that all of his relatives were assembling to meet her rather well. She didn’t even mind traipsing all the way to Rome—giving up her rare and precious free time—to do it. No, what she minded was the helicopter ride.

“I’m going to use my dissection tools to cut microscopic holes in your favorite suits. You won’t be able to see them, but you’ll know they’re there and it will haunt you!”

“
Tesoro
, I’m sorry I forgot about your issue with heights,” he apologized, continuing to rub her back while the pilot choked back his laughter. “And it wouldn’t haunt me.”

It would
destroy
him. She knew him so well already.

“Say goodbye to your perfectly organized sock drawer! The minute we get back I’m going in and mismatching every pair! No more ROYGBIV color order!”