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‘He will be by the time I’ve finished.’ Alessio gave a deadly smile as he pulled a file out of his briefcase. ‘Revenge is sweet. We’ll get her where it hurts her most.’

Lindsay ignored that comment. ‘How are the children?’

‘Better off without her.’ Alessio opened the file and scribbled something in the margin of the first page while Lindsay watched him, deeply troubled.

‘However deep his own pain, I’m sure he wouldn’t want to hurt the mother of his children.’

‘Are you?’ Alessio reached for a file from the table. ‘That’s why you’re not a divorce lawyer.’

Lindsay put down her appointments diary carefully. ‘You can’t apply cold, hard facts to people’s relationships. It just doesn’t work. It’s important to delve deeper. I’m immediately asking myself why she would do a thing like that. Why would any mother leave her children? Was she depressed or something?’

Alessio gaze was faintly mocking. ‘I think it’s fair to say that she was extremely depressed once she realised that she’d trashed her chance of receiving a generous settlement.’

Lindsay lifted her fingers to her forehead, telling herself that his warped humour and lack of sentiment was good. If he kept talking like that it would make it easier to ignore the chemistry that still managed to crackle between them. Chemistry that made it impossible for her to relax.

How was she going to survive a week with him?

It wasn’t that she had doubts about her own willpower, because she didn’t; it was more that their powerful sexual connection stirred up something dark and ugly in the depths of her brain. Something that she didn’t want to face.

Feeling a flicker of panic, she concentrated her mind on work. ‘People usually have reasons for the way they act, Alessio. If she left her children, then—’ her hand dropped to her lap as she pondered the issue ‘—perhaps she didn’t want children in the first place. Did he pressure her? Was he a lot older than her? Was parenthood an issue that they discussed before they married?’

Incredulous dark eyes met hers. ‘Accidenti, how would I know? I’m a lawyer, not a psychiatrist.’ With an impatient flick o

f his long fingers, Alessio flipped through the pages.

‘But surely they should try some form of counselling before they just give up. He should let her come back and try again. There are children involved—’

‘What makes you think she wants to come back?’

Appalled, Lindsay stared at him. ‘Doesn’t she?’

He lifted his gaze to hers. ‘Lindsay—’ his voice held a warning note ‘—you’re doing it already. Ignoring the facts and looking at the emotions.’

‘Emotions are important.’

‘But they’re your emotions,’ he pointed out gently, ‘not my client’s.’

‘But the children—’

‘You seem particularly sensitive to this situation. Are you this emotionally involved with every case you deal with? No wonder you’re always so tense.’

‘I’m not tense.’ She was agonisingly aware of him, of his powerful shoulders and his hard, handsome face. Why is it, she wondered desperately, that a person can still be devastatingly attractive even when they are so deficient in other more important qualities? ‘You hate women, don’t you?’

He raised an eyebrow. ‘Is this my cue to say that some of my best friends are women?’

‘That’s not friendship.’

His smile was impossibly attractive. ‘Friendship means different things to different people.’

And she was in no doubt as to what it meant to him. ‘But you seem to make it your life’s work to make sure that women don’t profit from marriage.’

‘Only when the purpose of their marriage was profit. I don’t believe that marriage should be a source of income.’ His long bronzed fingers played idly with his pen and she lifted her own fingers and rubbed her forehead again. The dangerous mix of cool and charismatic was making her head spin.

‘It’s the source of your income,’ she pointed out, and his smile widened.

‘Touché.’ He glanced up as a uniformed girl sashayed down the plane with a tray of refreshments. ‘Ah—supper. Are you hungry, Lindsay?’

Her head was getting worse and to make matters worse her stomach was starting to churn. ‘Actually, no. But thank you.’ She wished once again that she hadn’t left her pills at home. This whole situation was going to be difficult enough without having to do it with a headache. ‘Perhaps this would be a good time for you to tell me something about the objective of this trip. If I’m to assist you, I’d better know something about the case.’

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