“I was a virgin!”

“How was I supposed to know that? You’re a twenty-six year old woman.”

Pepe thought virgins of that age were extinct, a thought he kept to himself. Cara’s skin had gone as red as her hair. He didn’t particularly fancy being on the receiving end of a slap in front of his entire family, even if she would need a stepladder to reach him.

“You used me,” she said. “You let me believe you were serious, and that we would see each other again.”

“When? Tell me, when did I say we would see each other again?”

“You said you wanted me to come to your new house in Paris so I could advise you where to place the Cannelotti painting you brought in the auction.”

He shrugged. “That was business talk. You know about art and I needed an expert’s eye.”

“You said it while dipping your finger in champagne and then placing it in my mouth so I could suck it off.”

“What’s done is done. I’ve apologized and as far as I’m concerned that’s the end of the matter. It’s been four months. I suggest you forget about it and move on.”

With that, he stalked away, striding toward Luca and Grace, ready to tell them he was leaving.

“Actually, it’s not the end of the matter.”

Something in the tone of her voice made him pause.

“It’s impossible for me to forget about it and move on.”