Page 17 of Under Her Skin

They’d studied the photographs and exchanged loaded looks, but both swore blind they didn’t know who she was. “It’s probably some hoax,” the kindly lead officer said. “Some people just like to frighten a woman on herown.”

They made it sound like she should expect this kind of thing, being on her own. Hero’s feminist hackles went up, and she gathered up the notes and photos, and thanked them stiffly before turning away. She almost dared someone to attack her as she walked back through thelobby.

Come atme…

Her fear had turned to anger now, and she stalked past the hotel’s security guard without acknowledginghim.

George Galiano was waitingfor her, sitting at one of the restaurant’s outside tables, smoking a cigarette with a glass of red wine in front of him. He stood when she approached and kissed both of her cheeks. “You look beautiful, Miss Donati. Please, joinme.”

Over a lunch of fresh crab salad, he asked her about her plans for theapartment.

“To be honest, Mr. Galiano, I just want a haven. I’ve arranged for it to be furnished, of course, but beyond that, I hadn’tthought.”

“Well, I know some good interior designers, should you require them.” He paused. “I see Bachi has already begun to remodel the otherapartments.”

“He owns them all,then?”

George nodded, a nasty gleam in his eyes. “As I told you, you pissed him off royally by beating him to that last one. Bachi has dreams, I think, of owning every major hotel in this region, maybe even in Italy. His plans are, like him, ridiculouslyconceited.”

“I think it’s healthy to have ambition,” Haven saidcarefully.

George smirked. “You are very generous, MissDonati.”

“Hero,please.”

“Hero. Such a pretty name. Tell me, Hero…has Arturo’s legendary prowess in the bedroom beenexaggerated?”

Ugh. Hero looked at him steadily. “If anything, it’s beenunderplayed.”

But George laughed. “Fair enough. I meant no offense. I only asked because I wanted to see how loyal you were tohim.”

“I’m as loyal as I would be to any…friend. I’ve been here less than a week, Mr. Galiano, I have no interest in being drawn into disputes between the two ofyou.”

“Understood.” His smile faded, and he sighed. “For my part, I wish I could understand why we drifted apart, how it got so awkward betweenus.”

Hero’s curiosity got the better of her. “You mentioned a woman you both lovedbefore.”

He nodded. “Flavia. She died twenty years ago now. She was a beautiful woman, like yourself, but that beauty was to be herdownfall.”

“Howso?”

George’s eyes were haunted. “She was murdered, stabbed to death. They never caught herkiller.”

The brief look on Arturo’s face suddenly flashed in front of her eyes, followed by the images of the woman in the picture Hero had received earlier, and she wentcold.

“Stabbed?”

George nodded. “Multiple times. She never stood a chance. It devastated the town, myself and Arturo the most. I think neither of us has been the same since. Of course, Arturo was her lover at the time, and so the general consensus was that he was the only one suffering.” He shook his head. “But I sound like a bitterman.”

The realization that Arturo had also lost someone he dearly loved in some way cemented the connection between them even further. Suddenly Hero had to admit it to herself—she was falling hard for him, in more ways than between the sheets. It now seemed impossible to avoid coming clean to him about the apartment and trying to make itright.

“Mr. Galiano, thank you for lunch, but I have to gonow.”

George stood as she did and kissed her cheek, lingering perhaps a beat too long for her comfort. He took her hands, searching her eyes. “Please know, Hero…Arturo is not your only option. Please be careful. He is not who he says heis.”

Hero pulled her hands away, her expression steely. “Thank you for the warning, Mr.Galiano.”

Creep. Hero bid him goodbye and got out of there, much to her relief.Not my only option. Ugh, the arrogance of theman.