She didn't want to be here.
Despite the icy blast of the air conditioning, Aisling could feel a trickle of sweat sliding down between her breasts. But that was the effect he had on her. The effect he had on all women. Some people called it charm, others manipulation. Whatever it was—it was as potent as hell.
'Aisling?'
The richly accented purr of Gianluca Palladio's voice washed into her thoughts like liquid silk, and Aisling composed herself as she turned away from the vast window and its spectacular view of the Roman skyline to the infinitely more distracting sight of the dark haired man sitting at the desk. The man they called Il Tigre—because he was fierce and powerful, and because he hunted alone…
Today his legendary talons were sheathed and Gianluca Palladio looked very much the urban tiger, in a charcoal suit whose dark colour emphasised the impressive breadth of shoulders and the hard, lean body beneath. His shirt was bl ...
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