The Italian Read Online Free

around him. He wasn’t equipped anymore to deal with a beautiful woman.
    A beautiful woman, moreover, who was the granddaughter of a man who had shown him kindness and courtesy, and from whom he had received a first-rate grounding in international law. This man had sent him a wonderful gift, and in return, Stefano had subjected his beloved granddaughter to the treatment usually meted out to criminals.
    Well, maybe it wasn’t too late to make amends.
    He glanced at his watch and winced. It was too late to make amends tonight . He had an appointment with a snitch, who might be willing to give information on someone else who might be willing to give away Serra’s hiding place. It was the latest in a long series of frustrating meetings with the underbelly of humanity, but he had to make the appointment. Even if a thousand lowlifes disappointed him, the thousand-and-first might yield up his nemesis.
    “I owe you an apology, Ms. McIntyre. I can’t imagine what you must be thinking. I apologize profusely for your treatment by my men.”
    Her brow furrowed again. “I wasn’t treated with discourtesy by your officers, Judge Leone.”
    “You must call me Stefano.”
    “Stefano,” she said softly
    She smiled and his heart beat just a little faster. Later, after she was gone and his hormones weren’t scrambling his brains, he would have time to reflect upon the astonishing fact that a woman’s smile could still make his heart rate increase.
    The smile transformed her face, turned her from a perfect sculpture into a living, breathing woman. Those stunning eyes turned soft. The smooth planes of her face shifted and he saw with sudden insight that this was her usual expression. Smiling and warm.
    She looked around, taking in the no-nonsense decor, the law books and piles of documents. Her gaze came back to his and she went right to the heart of his life. “You must be after some very dangerous men to be so carefully protected.”
    To deny it would be foolish. Stefano didn’t say anything. Couldn’t say anything. He merely nodded his head once.
    “I know several very brave judges have been killed here in Palermo. I’m glad for you that your men protect you so well.”
    Your men . The thought of his men sobered Stefano. “What are you doing here, Ms. McIntyre?”
    “Jamie, please. Though you’re very good at saying ‘McIntyre’. My name has been mangled pretty thoroughly since my arrival.”
    “Jamie it is. So why are you here?”
    “As I told you on the phone, I’m here on a study-vacation. I’m a designer and I’m hoping to get some inspiration in Palermo. I majored in art and art history and I’ve always been interested in the architecture of this city. Such an unusual blend of Moorish and Romanesque and baroque styles. I thought I could get some good work done, and I have. It’s a beautiful city.”
    “Mm.” Stefano was noncommittal. He’d only seen Palermo through tinted bullet-proof windows. “What kind of a designer are you?”
    “Eclectic.” She pointed to the book. “For example, I designed that wrapping paper.”
    He picked it up, turned the shimmering paper in his hands. “It’s beautiful.”
    “Thank you.” She fell silent and so did he. Her skin glowed in the penumbra like pearls underwater. He couldn’t have taken his gaze from hers if a bomb had gone off in the next room.
    A discreet knock sounded and Stefano started out of his trance.
    “You must go now.” Stefano didn’t have to put regret into his voice. The idea of this enticing young woman leaving filled him with regret. “But I’d consider it an honor if you’d have dinner with me tomorrow night.” He smiled at her, marveling that he still remembered how. How long had it been since he’d last smiled?
    “I’d like that,” she said.
    He rounded his desk, standing by her chair until she stood, then walked her to the door with a hand at her back.
    His mother had raised him to be a gentleman. He rose to his feet, he held open