Page 42 of Duty and Desire

“Pretend I can’t read your mind and tell me from the beginning, please?” Claudia was trying to speak in a soothing tone, but that wasn’t going to work, not yet.

I didn’t want to be soothed. I wanted to rage against this whole mess of a situation.

I held out the empty glass. “I need another one.” She got up to replenish it, and I told them about Gio’s notes. “He was just trying to get information out of me.” I took the glass and drank half its contents.

My phone rang, but I ignored it. It fell silent for a few seconds, then started again. I put it on mute. Another text.

Please, come back. I think I know what’s happened. Let me explain.

I snorted. “And have you lie to me again? What kind of idiot do you take me for?”

Claudia took a deep breath. “Are you certain you haven’t… I don’t know… jumped to the wrong conclusion?”

I gaped at her. “What?”

“You didn’t even ask him about it.”

My cheeks were on fire. “I didn’t need to. I can read.”

She bit her lip. “And there’s absolutely no way this could be a big misunderstanding? You know, the kind thatactuallytalking about it could have cleared it up in less than a minute?”

“Why are you on his side?” I demanded.

“I’m not. I’m just trying to point out that this situation might not be as black and white as you’re painting it.”

Franz frowned. “Was there any indication in his notes that he knew who you were? Apart from Nick, the odd-job guy.”

I tried to recall what I’d read. “No, I don’t think so.” I scowled. “And I’m not going to give him the opportunity to find out.” I shuddered out a breath. “Because from now on, I’m going to avoid him like the plague.”

Franz’s eyes held a dangerous glint. “Don’t worry. I won’t let him get within two feet of you.”

Gio’s kiss made his betrayal all the more acute.

I’d let him in.

I would have trusted him with…

With my heart.

Chapter Fourteen

April 13

Gio

Idon’t think I slept more than an hour all night. Most of it was spent tossing and turning, cursing myself for being such an idiot.

I thought he’d gone to the bathroom, for God’s sake. Except when he didn’t answer, I feared he’d fainted in there or something. All it had taken was a glance at the table on the veranda for cold to flood through me.

My notebook. He looked inside my notebook.

It was the only explanation that made any sense.

I could see how he might take it. That was understandable. And I knew I could explain everything—if I got the chance. But all my messages and calls went unanswered. It wasn’t as if I could go to his home and demand he listen to me. I had no clue where he lived.

That phone was our sole line of communication, and Nick had severed it.

I’d drunk the bottle of wine he’d brought, which accounted forthe suede-like tongue and the pounding headache that had persisted all night. I’d hoped it would’ve sent me to sleep.

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