By Christine Feehan
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Justine sobbed softly. “I didn’t mean it when I said we were over. I’ll ﬁnd a way to help you, Paul. Don’t do anything rash until I ﬁgure things out. ” She waited a moment. ” When Paul didn’t answer or turn toward her, Justine jammed her ﬁst into her mouth to mufﬂe her weeping. A dark shadow fell across her so that Justine shivered and half turned, her eyes widening with terror. The predator in the shadows spoke softly to calm her, whispered a command even as he enfolded her in his arms. She tilted her head and gazed up at him with blind rapture.
She had moved much too quickly and was grateful the children hadn’t left their toys out where she could trip over them. Ordinarily, they were very good about such things, but little Vincente sometimes forgot. More than once Antonietta had suffered a minor bruise and damaged pride stumbling over one of his trucks. Once, she would have tumbled down the stairs if Justine hadn’t been with her to catch her. Vincente denied he was playing with his toys on the forbidden stairway, but his father, Franco, had punished him all the same.
There was much she did in her grandfather’s boardroom, using methods best not known or spoken of to get the results they needed. “And then you have Justine Travis. ” “Justine is a treasure,” Antonietta agreed. ” She tilted her head, 42 Christine Feehan frowning as a sudden chill went down her spine. The air in the bedroom stilled. The palazzo held its breath. “What do you mean, seemingly loyal? There is no question about it. ” “Is she? Does she conﬁde in you? ” She could hear the wind rise, rattle the great stained glass windows.
Dark symphony by Christine Feehan