The Raven (The Florentine #1)(111)

He brought his mouth to her neck before whispering, “My ideal hasn’t changed.”

Without a word, Raven wrapped her arms around his shoulders and kissed him as he carried her to bed.

Chapter Forty-five

“Someone is happy this morning.” Patrick smirked as he saw Raven sitting at her desk with a dreamy smile on her face.

She was staring at an image of Primavera that she’d used as the wallpaper to her desktop computer.

“Earth to Raven?” He snapped his fingers, causing her to jump.

When she saw who’d surprised her, she shoved his arm. “Jeez, Patrick. What the hell?”

He laughed. “I called your name twice.”

“I was concentrating.” She turned back to her computer, logging out of the system.

“On what, your wallpaper?”

“Very funny.”

“Why so happy this morning? Is it because Batelli got turfed?”

Raven glanced around the room at their colleagues. Fortunately, they weren’t paying attention to their conversation.

“Ssshhh!” She gave Patrick a censorious look.

He lifted his hands in surrender. “Sorry.”

“Summer is coming. That makes me happy.” Raven grabbed her cane and walked to the wardrobe to retrieve her lab coat.

“Right.” Patrick followed her. “Hey, if things with your wine collector are that good, why don’t we go on a double date? Gina wanted to plan something for your birthday.”

“It isn’t until July.”

“Well, she’ll plan a party for then. But we should go out before that. Bring your friend to meet us.”

“Um, I don’t know.” Raven tried not to look troubled.

“No big deal. I know how things are when it’s new.” He smiled again.

Raven returned his smile. “Things are pretty new with Gina. You guys have only been together a couple of weeks.”

“Yeah, but it feels like longer because we were friends first. How’s your collector?”

She directed her grin at her lab coat. “He’s good. Thanks.”

Patrick shook his head at her. “Now that we know everything is good, let me know when you’re free. We can go out to dinner or meet for drinks after work. You decide.”

He started for the door. “By the way, they’re going to reopen the exhibition hall in a couple of weeks. The Prado in Madrid agreed to lend us a few pieces.”

Raven gestured to him to come back. “Does that mean they’ve closed the investigation?”

“No. From what I hear, it’s just moved off-site. There’s no way Vitali is going to let the illustrations go without a massive investigation. By the way, be careful walking around the city at night. The newspapers are reporting that there’s a motorcycle gang attacking people. They shot a guy with a crossbow Monday night.”

“What?” Raven’s jaw dropped open.

“I know. Ridiculous, right? The BBC is reporting that both British and American tourists are canceling their travel plans to Florence this summer. The theft at the gallery, plus those bodies they found near the river, and now the motorcycle gang have all hit the news.”

“Is the gang attacking random people or are they targeting?”

Patrick gave her a quizzical look. “I have no idea. There were reports of attacks but when the police arrived, the victims had disappeared.”

“Thanks, Patrick. Say hi to Gina. I’ll let you know about dinner.”

Her friend nodded and made his way to the archives.

Raven thought of one word as she walked toward the restoration lab.

Hunters.

During her lunch break, Raven contemplated calling Ambrogio in order to leave a message for William.

But she didn’t.

He didn’t communicate by telephone, text, or e-mail. If she asked him to come to dinner with her friends, he’d decline, of course.

How could she introduce her . . . vampyre to her friends?

The answer was clear and concise.

She couldn’t.

Raven didn’t see William again until Saturday evening. He’d been busy day and night trying to locate the hunters.

It was a plausible explanation.

But Raven couldn’t help the doubt that crept into the back of her mind. She wondered if he’d seen the red-haired vampyre while he was hunting. She wondered who he was feeding from, since he wasn’t feeding from her.

She cursed herself for being jealous of his food sources.

On Saturday evening, at William’s request, she put on a little black dress that dipped very low in the back, exposing a great deal of skin. The dress would have looked better with stilettos, but now that her leg was back to its previous form, she couldn’t wear high heels without excruciating pain.

She took time brushing and styling her long black hair, curling the ends. And she made up her face with a light hand, accentuating the natural color of her lips and highlighting her green eyes.

William had said he was taking her out for the evening, but that she was to be ready before sunset.

A knock sounded at the door and she looked through the peephole.

It was Marco.

She opened the door to let him in and retrieved her purse. “Where’s his lordship?”

“In the car.” Marco moved past her, searching the apartment. When he seemed satisfied with what he saw (or didn’t see), he accompanied her to the landing, keeping careful watch on the stairwell as she locked the door.