"Idiot," I muttered, changing the channel.
Why did powerful men always think they could get away with anything?
My mind drifted—unwelcome, unbidden—to Quentin Vanetti.
Standing in that parking garage. The way he'd looked at me. Like he wanted to say something but thought better of it.
Had he wanted to ask me out? Or was I imagining things, seeing attraction where there was only professional courtesy?
Stop it.
But I couldn't.
The more I replayed our interview, the more attractive he became. Not just the broad shoulders or the salt-and-pepper hair or that smile that had made my stomach flip.
His intelligence. The way he'd tested me with that horse story, clearly evaluating whether my passion was genuine. The attention to detail—noticing my shoes matched my bag without looking down.
Character mattered more than looks.
Though the looks didn't hurt.
This is dangerous.
I was supposed to investigate him. Potentially kill him. Not daydream about what it would feel like if he kissed me. If he held me. If those strong hands—
Stop.
I pressed my palms against my eyes, trying to erase the image.
This was a fantasy. An impossible, dangerous fantasy born from one professional interaction and too little sleep.
Quentin Vanetti was my assignment. My mission. Possibly my victim.
Not my... anything else.
Even if some traitorous part of me wished things were different. Wished I'd met him under other circumstances. Wished I wasn't the daughter of a murdered mob boss sent to determine if he was the killer.
Wished this attraction that had hit me like a freight train could actually go somewhere.
But it couldn't.
I had one month.
Thirty days to get the job, get close, find the truth.
And if he was guilty? Then this attraction, this stupid, inconvenient pull I felt toward him, would have to die along with him.
The limo pulled up to the private terminal. I grabbed my bag, tipped the driver, and headed toward the family jet.
Back to Salt Lake City.
Back to Quentin Vanetti.
Back to a mission that was already more complicated than it should be.
One month,I reminded myself.Stay focused. Stay professional. Do not fall for the man you might have to kill.
Simple.
