![]() You practically burst into my home telling my housekeeper you had to see me, and now here you are, having pushed your way in.” “No,” he said, his voice cutting through the relative silence of the grand antechamber. And she had just said words to him no woman had bothered to speak to him since he was sixteen years old.īut they meant nothing, as she meant nothing. Had she been walking by him outside, he would never have paid her any notice. She was wearing a form fitting black tank top and a long, ankle length skirt that nearly covered her dusty feet and flat, unremarkable sandals that appeared to be falling apart. ![]() She was dressed the same as many American college students who flooded the city in the summer. She red-cheeked and disheveled, her face void of makeup, long dark hair half-falling out of a bun that looked like an afterthought. ![]() Women who looked like they had spent a hot, sweaty afternoon traipsing through the streets of Rome, rather than a hot, sweaty afternoon tangled in silk sheets. He did not associate with women like this. Of that he was nearly one-hundred percent certain. He had never seen the woman before in his life. Renzo Valenti, heir to the Valenti family real estate fortune, known womanizer and chronic over-indulger, stared down at the stranger standing in his entryway. ![]()
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