When his secretary buzzed through, he answered angrily, “I don’t wish to be disturbed.”
“I know, sir, but there’s a man here to see you. He says it’s urgent.”
Scowling, Rico demanded, “Who is he?”
“He says his name is Gianni Coretti and that you’re expecting him.”
Twelve
Rico felt a surge of both anger and satisfaction. At last there was a target for the fury writhing inside him. “Send him in.”
Gianni Coretti was tall, with short black hair, sharp brown eyes and the look of a man who didn’t have much patience. Good, Rico thought. Then they were well matched. Gianni was wearing a well-cut suit and looked more like the head of a corporation than an infamous thief.
He crossed the room in several long strides and offered his hand. Rico merely looked from the outstretched hand and back up to the man’s eyes. He gave nothing away, though mentally he was shouting, Why are you early? I still have four days with Teresa!
Which was ridiculous, of course. The whole point of this bargain he’d begun what felt like a lifetime ago was to have the Aztec dagger returned. That piece of family history that had been entrusted to him by his father. That’s what he should be interested in. Instead all he could think was, if Gianni was here with the dagger, then Teresa would go.
But no, a voice in his mind whispered. She wouldn’t. She’d bargained herself away for his assurance that he wouldn’t see the Corettis jailed. Teresa was going to stay.
For all the wrong reasons.
Damn it.
“I’ve heard quite a bit about you from my father and brother,” Gianni was saying as he let his hand drop to his side.
One eyebrow lifted. “Not flattering, I imagine.”
“Not in the slightest,” Gianni agreed with a grin. “But that’s not important now, is it? I have what you asked for.” He reached into his suit jacket and from the inner pocket pulled a cloth-wrapped item. “You can have it as soon as I have the evidence you gathered against my family.”