He wanted to forget it, to put it out of his head, to focus all his attention on the great progress that meant Lia was playing with the wolves... but he couldn't. Rage tingled with every inhalation, and if he didn't send memories to Katherine's progenitors it was only because he didn't know their names.Leah stopped playing after a few minutes and advanced toward him. She knelt to his right, resting on her heels, and looked out at the sea: at the waves crawling up to her knees, and those breaking further out against the rocks.She was his own ocean, he was able to appreciate her in all her beauty, but he would not be able to discover her depths in all their magnitude, at least not as long as she continued to be silent.He dropped down on one elbow and took a picture of her. How could he not be angry if Katherine had no idea of the way that girl captivated him? He stroked her back with upward moves, from her buttocks to the nape of her neck, and Lia

"Lia...!"How was it possible for him to dream about her even having her by his side, after making love to her so intensely? It was an incredible thing to sleep with Lia. He couldn't remember all the women he had shared his bed with, but that girl was the first one he had allowed himself to sleep with.He inhaled deeply, searching for the special scent she left on the sheets, on the pillow, and reached out to caress her.Her absence made him jerk up. Next to him, the sheets were cool enough to know that She had been up for some time.—Lia! —She wasn't beside him, and the damned wolves hadn't warned him!—.  Lia!He pulled on a pair of shorts and scoured the upper floor with an anxiety of which he would never have believed himself capable. But he did not find her on the terrace or in any of the rooms. Neither her nor the wolves.—Lia! —he called out to her again almost desperately as he descended the stairs.<

—Stop joking, Carlo! —Ian scolded him, annoyed.—No, I'm not joking! I'm completely convinced that what you feel for her you've never felt for any woman before.Indeed, he was right. Ian had never felt half the sexual attraction for another woman that he felt for Lia, but that was it... That was it, wasn't it?—That may be, but that doesn't mean that I fell in love with her, far from it. My name is not Carlo Di Sávallo, who married the first little princess who made eyes at him! —he protested.His brother couldn't help but laugh at such a childish jab, which only served to confirm his suspicions.—True, true. —He admitted—. Your name is Ian Di Sávallo, but you're still going to end up tangled up with those little eyes.Ian made a gesture of deep exasperation with his shoulders and went inside to pour himself another brandy. Carlo was wrong, he had to be wrong, but he didn't want t

—Is it possible that you can't tell me anything... absolutely nothing? After everything that has happened between us?Lia lowered her head, disgruntled, and he ran his hand through his hair in lively agitation. It wasn't because of her, but because there was less and less time left before Katherine came for her, and that had him in the grip of the greatest restlessness he had ever experienced.—I'm sorry, I didn't mean to push you. —he kissed her on the forehead, holding her close— Forgive me, Lia, please forgive me. It's just that sometimes I long to hear your voice... to hear you in any other context than while we make love.He stroked her hands and brushed her lips briefly, reminding himself that the girl did not know the reason for his uneasiness, imagining that perhaps, when the time came, she would be strong enough to utter the words that would allow him to keep her by his side.—Are you sure you don't want to come with

Galagas was full to capacity with spectators, although the invitations to the exhibition had been exclusive - very exclusive! Everywhere waiters could be seen hurrying around with trays full of champagne glasses.The six huge glassed-in halls on the fifteenth floor of the Cavalier Hotel were filled with seductive women and smiling men enjoying the shattering of their expectations.It had nothing to do with the micro-nature cliché that had come with the brochures and invitations, but it was a life. A latent life that moved from photograph to photograph, and that was capable of absorbing all the attention of the public in those magnificent spaces of one hundred and fifty by one hundred and eighty centimeters.The congratulations to the artist had been pouring in since early in the evening, and the reviews promised to be flattering. The auction had not yet been authorized, and the rumor among those present already announced that large sums would be involved in the bidding to acquire some