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“But he’s involved!”
She took another step toward the building’s doors. “No more than you. And only when it’s to protect those he loves. Addiu, Roman.”
“Sabina.” He hated the plea in his voice, but he couldn’t hold it back. He couldn’t let her walk away, even though he saw doom in every fancy bead on her expensive dress. “Please. I have to see you again.”
Her spine turned to steel, her eyes to stone. “No,” she said simply. And without another glance his way, she walked into the building. To him.
Roman could only stand there and curse.
With a hand pressed to her fluttering stomach, Sabina paused just inside the door. That had gone better than she thought it would when she looked up into his familiar green eyes. She had handled herself well. Well enough, anyway. Now if she could just stop trembling, she’d push on with her plans and put him totally from her mind. Again.
“Oh, blast him,” she muttered. Drawing in a deep breath, she smoothed her hair, her dress, and tried not to dwell on the absence of the hatred she’d been clinging to for days. She had truly expected to spit in his eye if ever she saw him again. But when he touched her, for a split second she’d forgotten all he’d done to her, to her family. She only remembered how he’d been the first one to really listen to her in years. The first one who seemed to understand how empty she felt after Serafina died. He had made her feel beautiful and wanted.
Well—she wasn’t the first girl ever to have fallen for a snake. Lorenzo had inspired just as much passion once upon a time. They would find that spark again. “Enzo, Enzo, Enzo,” she repeated to herself as she tapped up the stairs. “No Roman. Enzo.”
She was familiar enough with his law office that it felt like a safe haven when she entered, breathed in that clean smell, and smiled at the receptionist. “Hello, Helen.”
Helen Gregory looked up but did not return the smile. “Miss Mancari.”
Her heart sank even as her brows lifted. “I thought we were on a first name basis.” She had, in fact, never told Helen her last name.
Helen sniffed and turned back to the appointment book on her desk. “Is there something I can help you with?”
Her hands started shaking again, and her voice came out in a pathetic, meek little whisper. “Is Enzo still here?”
“Do you have an appointment?”
An appointment? Her throat went tight, and she had to fight the urge to just spin around and go home, back to the comfortable emptiness of her room and the ice in her veins. But then she saw Mama’s face, heard Mama’s plea.
She had to fight for Lorenzo, for a life with him. And if that started here with the firm’s secretary, then…then she’d just mimic Mama’s steel spine. Pretend to have strength until she felt it.
Sabina planted her fists on her hips and glared at the redhead. “I hardly need an appointment to visit my fiancé. Is he in his office?”
Helen picked up a metal file and went to work on her fingernails.
Sabina growled and decided she’d just answer her own question. At least Helen didn’t try to stop her as she moved down the hall. She aimed for Lorenzo’s small office in the back, but she paused when she saw an assortment of files on a table in the conference room, topped by a familiar pair of spectacles. She poked her head in and saw Lorenzo standing beside the open window, his hands in his pockets.
Her heart skipped a little when she saw him—joy? Nerves? “Hey there.”
Lorenzo looked her way and smiled. “Hi.”
Sabina motioned toward the door even as she advanced into the room. “Did you…tell Helen? What all’s happened, I mean? She was treating me like an unwelcome stranger.”
Lorenzo’s eyes widened, and then he sighed. “I didn’t. But she must have figured it out.”
“How?”
He shrugged, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “I think she considers herself a Pinkerton investigator in training. Don’t let her bother you.”
Easier said than done. “Sure.” She stopped beside him at the window. The warm breeze carried the scent of sausage from the vendor on the corner, which she breathed in with contentment—until she realized she could hear every word from the passersby below. She let out a long breath and looked up to see Lorenzo studying her. “You heard the whole thing, didn’t you?”
His nod wasn’t agitated, anyway. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop—I just came over to cool down after he left and—”
“You don’t have to explain.” Experimentally, she reached for his hand. His fingers gripped hers comfortably, so her shoulders relaxed. She grinned. “I probably would have eavesdropped quite deliberately had I been in your shoes. I just want you to know that—”
“Bean.” He squeezed her fingers. “We don’t have to talk about this. Really.”
She almost relented, until she looked in his eyes and saw the unease hiding in the hazel depths. “I think we do, Enzo. If we’re really going to start over, we can’t have him between us.”
