"I couldn't tell you who I had in mind, Cos, because you would have said no," Henry had argued. "She is the best person I know for the job, and if you pulled your head out of your ass for a moment, you would see how much you two have in common."
Cosimo had growled, his dragon rising. "I was unprepared and felt like a damn fool. I would have been better off going into that meeting forewarned and therefore armed against all of her..." he'd trailed off, struggling to find the right word.
"Beauty? Charisma? Power? Intelligence," his traitorous friend had rattled off.
"Yes. That," Cosimo had replied, his body still frustrated by being in her presence.
"Well, I'm sure you will get over it if you decide to work together. I should warn you not to get any ideas about sleeping with her. Her ex-husband is a complete psycho from what I hear, and men she has tried to date in the past have all had curious accidents and illnesses."
Cosimo had snorted. "Sure it wasn't her doing? She is astregaafter all."
"I don't know if she's even aware that they have happened. She seems to have given up on the whole idea of dating in the past five years," Henry had replied thoughtfully.
Cosimo had thought of the waiter and the napkin she had tucked in next to her full, perfect breast. "I doubt that."
"Well, good luck with it all," his friend had said cheerfully and hung up.
Days later, Cosimo was still playing the conversation with Henry over in his head when he wasn't obsessing about Marcella.
"Damn Sforza woman!" he exclaimed, thinking he was alone. The sound of muffled laughter came behind him. He whirled around to see Bas, snipping rosemary and thyme from the garden.
"Don't you laugh at me, Basset," Cosimo snapped.
"Why? You laugh at us when we are being ridiculous over a crush," Bas said, cutting another stalk of rosemary.
Cosimo reeled. "I don't have a crush! She is insufferable."
"Kind of seems like you do. You have been ranting about this poor woman for over a year. Maybe you should have been talking to her instead." Bas straightened up and picked up the small basket of herbs. "We need her help, yes?"
Cosimo put his hands on his hips and blew out a breath. "Yes, but she's being difficult."
"You have always told us you get further with honey than vinegar," Bas continued. He looped his arm around Cosimo'sand made him walk beside him back toward the house. "Maybewe need to approach her from a different angle. You weren't ready for her last time, so let's change the playing field."
Cosimo opened the French doors that led back into the kitchen. "It sounds like you have a plan in mind already."
"I do," Bas said with a grin. "Let's invite her to dinner."
Cosimo sat down at the counter. "I'm failing to see how that would help me."
"This is your territory, and that counts to your dragon." Bas carefully washed his herbs and set them out on kitchen paper. "She would get to know you and the family better and would see that we aren't trying to play her. We just want our aunt back. There's no hidden motivation here."
Cosimo's dragon shifted uneasily. The idea of having Marcella in its territory had made it rise out of the sulk it had been wallowing in for days.
Want the witch, it grumbled.
"Just stop," Cosimo said, putting his head in his hands. The dragon wasn't going to shut up about her any time soon. He had been fighting not to go into Florence and hunt Marcella down for days. The dragon practically purred at the thought, the sound vibrating through his chest.
"What was that, Dad?" Bas asked.
"Nothing. The dragon likes the idea of her being on our chosen battleground, but I don't know if she will come around," he replied.
Bas slung a towel over one shoulder. "I'm going to take Bridget to the Mercato Centrale to buy supplies for dinner, so maybe ring her and ask."
"I don't have her number either."
"She's an academic. She might have a website," Bas pressed.
Cosimo took out his phone and did a Google search. Sure enough, she did have a site with a long list of her publicationsand an author photo that was too sultry and somehow didn't do her justice at the same time. He bet the photographer had given her their number too.
