The Roman's Woman (A Singular Obsession Book 4) (2 page)

Which may have been why he’d taken his divorce so hard. When it was finally over, he no longer loved his wife. In fact, he hadn’t ever really known her. But it was as if Maria Gianna’s actions had tainted him somehow. Betrayal wasn’t a strong enough word to describe how he’d felt. He was
affronted
. His personal sense of honor had been tainted by proxy.

Well, honor would only get him so far. He grabbed the news sheet and tossed it to the floor with enough force to make him glad the privacy partition was up.

His phone buzzed, signaling a text. It was from Charles, his VP of public relations.

Where are you??? -C

Three question marks meant Charles was crawling up the walls right now. Gio was supposed to meet him before the event to strategize about the latest tabloid rumors.

Stuck in traffic,
he typed back.

The ceremony is about to start. Do you want me to delay? -C

Gio glanced at his watch.
Damn
. It was already past eight. The annual Morgese Foundation Charity dinner had already begun.

The bank’s charity arm was very active. It was a point of pride with Gio. Since he’d taken over, he’d expanded their directive, trying to make it an efficient and lean organization that still managed to fund more programs than in years past. In addition to the usual social improvement endeavors, the foundation now backed ecological and biomedical research. He was eager to meet the two scientists awarded major research grants this year.

Lifting his head, he scanned the traffic. The car hadn’t budged in the last five minutes. He was going to have to catch up with Kamal Patel and Sophia Márquez after the ceremony.

He texted back.
No
.
You’re going to have to give out the awards.
There must be an accident up ahead.

Gio put down his phone, simultaneously guilty and relieved that he wouldn’t be the focus of all those eyes turned to the stage this evening. Instead, he could slip in afterward, meet with key people, and then duck out after an hour or so.

How convenient for me, he mocked himself. Even though the traffic was out of his control, not showing up in time felt like a cop out. He had been looking forward to this event all week. But now he was letting Maria Gianna’s drama get to him.

It was almost nine by the time Gio ran up the steps to the hotel ballroom where the foundation dinner was taking place. He stopped in the lobby restroom to straighten his tie unnecessarily, still reluctant to be the cynosure of so much attention. Taking a deep breath, he left the bathroom and headed for the double doors leading to the ballroom. Briefly, he paused and braced himself before running the gauntlet.

Okay
,
enough procrastination
. He opened the doors and walked inside.

Despite the unsavory rumors swirling around him, he was surrounded almost immediately. Hands were shaken, polite small talk was made. People determined to speak to him came and went steadily for the next hour. One or two women even hit on him, which was strange under the circumstances—unless they hadn't heard the rumors. This was an international crowd, and his name had been carefully left out of today’s latest gutter story.

Smiling politely, he extricated himself from a conversation with one of the foundation’s smaller grant winners from the previous year. They had been lobbying steadily for more funds, but as far as Gio was concerned they hadn’t produced sufficient results to justify an increase yet. After making that clear as politely as he could, he escaped to find Charles.

Luck was with him. Charles was with the Kamal Patel. Patel was a water ecologist, specializing in risk resource management. His work assessed drought patterns and made recommendations about the most efficient water conservation methods tailored to local conditions. It was research that areas like California sorely needed, although it was doubtful Patel’s recommendations would make much headway in the bureaucracy of local government. Despite that, Gio believed the effort had to be made. Perhaps there was more he could do to get Patel heard.

He’d gotten so caught up in the conversation, that he hadn’t looked for the other principal grant winner, Sophia Má
rquez
. Dr. Márquez was a neurologist specializing in Alzheimer’s disease and other degenerative disorders. The project the Morgese foundation had funded was for exploratory research on the tie between pathogens and the diseases she studied. One of the pathogens,
Toxoplasma gondii
, was a compelling suspect.

Dr. Márquez’s research proposal described how mice infected with the parasite would become reckless. They exposed themselves to cats, effectively courting death so the parasite could pass to a feline host. Pregnant women were already rigorously tested for exposure to the parasite, but it was only in the last few years that a tie had been made between the parasite and altered behavior in humans. Men, in particular, became more careless with exposure, almost as if they too were courting death so the parasite could be passed on. Gio found the idea chilling.

Sophia Márquez’s suggestion that parasites like
T. gondii
could be tied to diseases like Alzheimer’s or schizophrenia was enough to make Gio sit up and take notice. After confirming the stellar quality of Dr. Márquez’s credentials, he put her name at the top of his funding list.

Gio was eager to meet her for another reason, as well. He’d asked all the applicants for a personal anecdote—a reason why they pursued the projects they did. He knew it was uncommon in grant applications to request any personal information, but he wanted a deeper understanding of the people asking him for money.

Dr. Márquez’s reason for pursuing her line of research had been the only one that truly moved him. The doctor’s mother had died of a fast progressing case of dementia, one that had been tentatively diagnosed as Alzheimer’s. Based on her knowledge of her mother’s lifestyle, Dr. Márquez suspected a link between a parasite like
T. gondii
and her mother’s disease.

Part of the research involved examining brain tissue from hundreds of patients to find such parasites. One of those samples came from her own mother. Since her study had been a double-blind, Sophia had no idea which sample had belonged to her mother, so she treated them as though they all were: with respect and reverence.

The application didn’t say whether or not her mother’s brain tissue had tested positive for a parasite. It was one of the things Gio wanted to ask her. Hopefully she wouldn’t be offended by his curiosity.

“Did you meet Dr. Má
rquez
yet?” he asked Charles once Dr. Patel had wandered off for more refreshments.

Charles scanned the crowded ballroom. “I don’t see her. Should I go find her?”

Gio nodded. “I’ll be on the balcony,” he said, giving the crowd a wary glance.

Charles smiled sympathetically. “What about our other conversation?”

“It can wait till tomorrow,” he said, shoulders sagging. All this socializing was draining. “Just try to catch Dr. Má
rquez
before she leaves,” he added as he took in the thinning crowd.

Charles nodded and walked away in search of the other grant winner.

What time was it again?
He checked his watch and stifled a yawn. It was still too early for him to leave. Making his way up the stairs to the less-crowded balcony, he flagged down a waiter and asked for a grappa. The waiter had just finished serving him his drink when he saw
her
.

A buzzing, lightheadedness overcame him as he took in the sight of the woman below him in the center of the ballroom. The stranger was a vision, stunning in a vintage white satin dress reminiscent of a 40’s pin-up. Her hair was dark brown with gleaming mahogany highlights, with lips that were red and full. Her skin was a light caramel color that complimented her exotically attractive features. And her body was outrageous…

There was simply no other description for it. Curves that should have been illegal filled out that satin with a flair that dropped his IQ several points.

Gio shifted, uncomfortably aware that he was aroused. He’d never gotten that hot and hard so fast before. Feeling like a stupid teenager, he downed his drink. He was grateful for the protection the balcony wall offered as he stared down at his siren, memorizing her face and every delicious curve.

She was probably married. Or a lesbian. That was the kind of luck he was having these days.

He shook his head and tried to get a grip. Even if she wasn’t available, he had to meet her—just as soon as he composed himself. Surely the siren would notice a raging hard-on if he went to shake her hand right now. It was an embarrassing position for a man who prided himself on his self-control.

Clutching his empty glass, he used his free hand to grip the railing. A flare of what could only be jealousy spiked through him when his siren laughed at something the man next to her said—a man he hadn’t noticed through his haze of lust. There was actually a cluster of men, all standing way too close to her. Irritated, Gio glared at the men as if he could will them away with the power of his mind.

Footsteps behind him signaled Charles’ return. “I’m sorry, I was waylaid on the stairs. I didn’t see her. She’s probably in the restroom,” he said, huffing a bit as he joined Gio on the balcony.

Gio waved the excuse away and pointed at the siren. “Who is that?”

Charles leaned over the railing. “Oh, good. You found her.”

Startled, Gio glanced at him. He couldn’t mean the siren. “No, the woman in the white dress. Who is she?”

Charles gave him a knowing smile. “That is Dr. Márquez, hiding in plain sight. I spoke to her earlier. Shall I call her over?”

Gio stilled. That couldn’t be Sophia Márquez. No doctor looked like that. That woman down there was his fantasy pin-up, not an M.D. who cut up brains for a living.

Crap.

Was she married? The grant application didn’t include any personal questions about family beyond what the applicant shared in their personal anecdote. Had he at least included marital status on the questionnaire? If he had, he couldn’t remember what hers had been. All he could recall was the details of her work.

“Gio?” Charles was waving a hand in front of his face with a smirk.

Feeling himself redden, Gio shook his head. “No, I’ll introduce myself. I should apologize for missing the ceremony,” he said, straightening his suit jacket.

“Okay.” Charle’s voice was smug, but Gio didn’t care.

Dr. Márquez had broken from the thinning crowd. Worried she was leaving, he hurried after her, taking the steps down from the balcony two at a time.

Getting down to the center of the ballroom was easier said than done. Twice he was stopped by acquaintances eager to network. With poorly concealed impatience, he dismissed them as quickly as he could. When he had finally broken away, there was no sign of Dr. Márquez. He glanced up at the balcony where his friend was obviously trying to stop laughing. Glowering, Gio waved, and Charles pointed at the main ballroom doors.

He swore under his breath and hurried out in pursuit. After checking the richly appointed hotel lobby for white satin and not finding it, he shot to the door and scanned the sidewalk outside. There was no sign of the siren.

“
Merda
!” he vented, startling a well-dressed older couple he hadn’t noticed next to him.

Embarrassed, he apologized profusely before going back inside. Missing Sophia Márquez tonight was a disappointment, but he knew her name and where she worked. There would be another chance to meet her. As an important donor, it wasn’t out of the question for him to set up an inspection of the lab where she worked.

The grant he’d awarded her was large enough to guarantee she had to meet him personally, maybe even take him out to dinner if he hinted at it. And her laboratory was a short flight away, not far from where his best friend Alex’s wife Elynn worked. Placated by the thought of visiting Alex again
and meeting
the doctor, he headed back inside.

A few hours later, he was home in his city penthouse. Sophia Márquez’s bio was open on his laptop, along with several tabs featuring some flattering profiles on her various research projects. There was no mention of a spouse in any of it, but that was no guarantee there wasn’t one. On impulse, he shot off an email to Enzo, his head of security.

A little more information on the good doctor couldn’t hurt. At least he’d know whether or not there was any point in indulging his sudden and unexpected crush.

Three Days Later

Gio resisted the urge to throw the phone across the room.

“You can’t be serious,” he ground out in Italian, pacing his office in the gym shorts he’d been forced to change into.

Across the line, his father sighed, his voice tired but inflexible. “It’s not Lucca’s fault. He’s young and easily led.”

“I don’t care about that. If he doesn’t understand the concept of family loyalty, he’s out,” Gio finished in a tone of barely restrained anger.

He had never been this close to losing his temper in a long while. He wanted to break something.