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‘Time is a commodity in business, not a luxury.’ He didn’t add that the solicitor’s chance of success was slim, no matter the time allowed. Both men knew the invitation would be rejected. A great pity, in Leo’s mind. He’d hoped to see for himself the look on Douglas Shaw’s face when the man learnt the fate of his company. But Shaw’s repeated refusals to turn up had denied Leo the final spoils of victory.

‘He won’t show.’

Her voice was so small he wasn’t sure he’d heard correctly. ‘Scusi?’

‘My father. He won’t show. He won’t meet with you, will he?’

He schooled his expression. Had she divined his thoughts? Absurd. He shook off the notion. ‘You tell me. He’s your father.’

‘Leo, I haven’t—’

‘Leonardo!’

Leo heard his name boomed at the same time as Helena stopped talking and darted a startled look over his shoulder. He turned and saw a lanky, sandy-haired man striding forward with a petite blonde by his side.

Leo grinned. ‘Hans.’ He gripped the man’s outstretched hand. ‘I didn’t know you’d be here. How are you? And Sabine.’ He raised the woman’s slender hand, planted a kiss on her knuckles. ‘Beautiful, as always.’

She issued a throaty laugh. ‘And you, my dear, are still the charmer.’ Rising on tiptoes, she kissed him on both cheeks, then turned her sparkling eyes on Helena. ‘Please, introduce us to your lovely companion.’

Leo shifted his weight, fielded a sidelong glance from Helena and sliced her a warning look. Do not embarrass me.

‘Helena, this is Dr Hans Hetterich and his wife, Sabine. Hans, when he is not winning golf tournaments or sailing a yacht on the high seas, is one of the most prominent spinal surgeons in the world.’

‘Nice to meet you, Helena.’ Hans took her hand. ‘And please pay my friend no attention. I am not nearly as impressive as he makes me sound.’

An unladylike snort came from beside him. ‘I think my husband is not himself tonight.’ Sabine commandeered Helena’s hand. ‘Normally he is not so modest.’

Hans guffawed and clutched his chest, earning him an eye-roll and a poke in the ribs from his wife. He winked at her, then turned a more sober face to Leo. ‘Our new research unit in Berlin is exceptional, thanks to your support. Our stem cell procedures are attracting interest from some of the best surgeons in the world. You must come soon and see for yourself. And you are most welcome too, Helena. Have you visited Germany?’

Her hesitation was fleeting. ‘Once, a long time ago. On a school trip.’

‘Perhaps in a few months,’ Leo intervened. ‘When I get a break in my schedule.’

‘How is Marietta?’ Sabine said. ‘We haven’t seen her since her last surgery.’

His fingers tightened on his glass. ‘She’s fine,’ he said, keeping his answer intentionally brief. He had no wish to discuss his sister in front of Helena. Proffering a smile, he gestured at the dwindling number of people around them. ‘It appears the waiting staff would like us to be seated. Shall we...?’

With a promise to catch them later in the evening, Hans and Sabine joined the trail of diners drifting through to the ballroom. Leo turned to follow, but Helena hung back.

He stopped, raised an eyebrow. ‘Are you coming?’

After a pause, she jammed her evening purse beneath her arm and shot him a baleful look. ‘Do I have a choice?’

He gave her a silky smile—one designed to leave her in no doubt as to his answer. But just to ensure she couldn’t mistake his meaning he leaned in and said softly, ‘You don’t.’

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Gorgeous. Devastating. Lethal.

Those were three of a dozen words Helena could think of to describe Leonardo Vincenti in a tuxedo. And, judging by the lascivious looks he was pulling from every corner of the ballroom, she wasn’t the only female whose hormones had clocked into overdrive at the mere sight of all that dark, brooding masculinity.

He spoke from beside her. ‘The fish is not to your taste?’

She cast him a look from under her lashes. ‘It’s fine. I’m not very hungry.’

The treacle-cured smoked salmon served as a starter was, in fact, superb, but the knots twisting her stomach made the food impossible to enjoy. Which really was a shame, some part of her brain registered, because she rarely had the opportunity these days to sample such exquisite cuisine.

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