Page 15 of London
The sculpture had the figure of a warrior with a straight, haughty posture. He held a bow and quiver full of arrows, its strap stretched tautly over his smooth, half-bare chest. He wore a Doric chiton, the skimpy garment she imagined befitted the Greek sun god.
As she studied the statue, Linda noticed a slight resemblance between the motionless wooden features and those of her wickedly-hot Doctor Leon—the strong chin, the high cheekbones, the straight Roman nose. His sensuous lips were turned up slightly, in an almost naughty smile, while the eyes kept a secret known only to the two of them.
She shook her head. Now she was imagining the good doctor everywhere—even in a carving she’d completed months before meeting the man. It was crazy to spend this much time thinking of someone, especially after spending only a few hours with him.
This sensation was a new one for her. She’d never experienced anything like it, and yet… Beyond the frustration bloomed a joyful, crazy, adolescent attraction. What if this time she wasn’t wrong? What if hewasas good as he seemed?
“Bella mia!” A man’s baritone voice filled the room. Lost in her musings, Linda started and looked over to see the gallery’s owner walking toward her, a broad grin on his face.
Francesco Moretti was a middle-aged Italian with dark hair, tanned skin, and the classical features so common to his compatriots. As usual, he wore an elegant black suit—she’d never seen him in anything else.
He’d been one of her first clients when she’d moved to England. The long-time art dealer had commissioned her to design a few pieces for his home. His wife had then ordered an entire jewelry line from her which had fattened Linda’s bank account considerably. With an eye on his bottom line, Francesco had convinced her that his successful gallery could become even more so if she agreed to display and sell her work there. He’d been right. She’d yet to meet many of her new fans. Saturday would be an important stepping stone for her career.
“I was wondering when you’d planned to stop by.” Francesco’s English, spiced with a hint of an Italian accent, was impeccable.
Linda kissed him on both cheeks. “It’s wonderful to see you, Francesco. You surprised me.”
“Your work is so captivating it mesmerizes even the artist, eh?”
She laughed. “It does. Everything’s arranged beautifully. It’s fabulous.” She gestured encompassing the room.
“We’re almost ready for Saturday. The press, the television reporters, not to mention all of England’s art lovers are waiting for the big event.”
His gaze dropped from her face to her black slacks and fitted black jacket. He winced.
“I trust you plan to wear something less… funereal on Saturday?”
“Don’t worry,tesoro,” she said, the Italian endearment coming to her easily. “I promise not to embarrass you. Today, I’m dressed for business.”
He studied her, arching an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of that steely-eyed glare of yours. That alone will scare them into submission,cara.”
“Sometimes you have to stand up for what’s right. I need to be taken seriously,” she said, her hand tightening on her purse strap.
“And you certainly will be. Now, can I get you something to drink? Coffee, tea, soda?”
She shook her head. “No, thanks. I can’t stay. I only stopped by to see how things were coming along and to congratulate you. Everything looks wonderful.”
“Thank you, but the artists deserve all the credit.” He smiled, taking her hand in his. “Are you nervous?”
“A little. It’s my first big public event. So far, I’ve worked privately with clients. This is my official debut.”
“There’s no need to be nervous, Linda. Just be yourself. Everyone will love you. They’ll come because they already love your work.”
“I know, but still… It’s a big step.”
“It is, but you’ll be fine.” He grinned once more. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep you posted about everything.”
“Thank you. I’ll see you Saturday.Ciao!”
“Ciao, bellezza,” he said, using his old world charm and kissing her hand.
On the way back to her car, Linda mentally outlined her plans for the rest of the day. Regardless of her personal attraction to Gerard, she had to do something to help with his research to ensure his serum got on the market and into the hands of those who needed it as soon as possible.
Stopping at Laurent’sat theCafé Royale Hotel, she ordered a light lunch and coffee to refuel her for the next part of her day. While she waited for her food, Linda called HOPE and requested an emergency meeting with Jane Orwell, the head of the clinic’s Board of Directors.
With the meeting scheduled for two in the afternoon, it left plenty of time for her to enjoy her gourmet lunch and another sunny, if warm English day. Linda smiled and raised her coffee cup to her lips. If there was anyone she could light a fire under to get some attention, it was Mrs. Orwell.
Linda arrived at HOPE ahead of her meeting time because she wanted to see Gerard first. The pretty brunette receptionist checked to see if he was in and then led her to Doctor Leon’s office, although Linda remembered its location from yesterday. Had it only been twenty-four hours?
