“She certainly did that. Her eye is incredible. You’ll have to give me her number before you release me. Is it dinner time yet? I’m starving.”
“Soon.”
“Good.” Her beautiful eyes sparkled. “And then it will be interrogation time.”
The quicksand he was treading on dipped.
“Does your phone have a timer?”
“I assume so. Why?”
Gino’s hostage, sitting across from him at the breakfast bar they’d just finished eating their dinner, gave him a smile that could only be described as pure evil. “Because I want you to set it for two hours.”
“We’re both wearing watches.”
“I’m not letting you get out of even a second of your interrogation. More wine?”
He looked at the bottle separating them. It was empty. “If I’m going to be interrogated, I’m going to open the bourbon.”
“Can I have some?”
“Is it likely to make you fall asleep mid-interrogation?”
She shrugged. “Who knows? I’ve never drunk bourbon before.”
“We can but hope then. Come on, let’s go to the living room.”
While Francesca settled herself on one of the two-seaters arranged in a square closest to the bar, Gino fixed them both a drink. When he carried them over, she patted the space next to her thigh. In answer, he raised an unimpressed eyebrow, put her glass on the oak coffee table, and took the sofa facing hers.
“You’re no fun,” she pouted.
“Drink your bourbon.”
She had a sip of it and pulled a face. “Can I have more wine instead?”
“Sure.”
A new bottle of wine uncorked and poured for her, he retook his seat. “Ready?”
“Set the timer.”
Obliging, he placed his phone on the table between them so they could both see the countdown. “Go.”
Instead of asking her first question, she reached for her wine and curled up with it in her hand.
“Drink up,” he encouraged.
She grinned. “Do I unnerve you?”
“Is that your first question?”
“Yes, and you have to answer it. You have to answer everything truthfully. That’s the deal.”
“I know.”
“So? Do I unnerve you?”
“Yes.”
