Rome's Revenge. Sara Craven

have simple tastes.’

      ‘Yet you wear Christian Dior,’ he said. ‘You’re more complicated than you think.’

      Suddenly breathless, Cory reached down for her tote bag, jerking it towards her. Then rose. ‘Thanks for the coffee,’ she said. ‘And for the character analysis. I hope you don’t do it for a living. Goodbye, Mr d’Angelo.’

      He got to his feet, too. His smile held real charm. ‘Until next time—Miss Grant.’

      She’d almost reached the door when she realised what he’d said, and swung round, lips parting in a gasp of angry disbelief.

      But Rome d’Angelo wasn’t there. He must have used the exit that led straight to the street, she realised in frustration.

      Her mouth tightened. So, he liked to play games. Well, she had no intention of joining in—or of rising to any more of his bait.