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could be accepted. But forgotten?” Dissatisfied, she shook her head. “This isn’t the work of an amateur, Giovanni.” She ordered the computer to print out the image. “It’s the work of a master. There has to be some documentation, somewhere. I need to know more about that villa, more about the woman. Who did she leave her possessions to, who lived in the villa immediately after she died? Did she have children?”
    “I’m a chemist,” he said with a smile. “Not a historian. For this you want Richard.”
    “Is he in yet?”
    “He is ever punctual. Wait.” He laughed a little, taking her arm before she could hurry away. “Have dinner with me tonight.”

    “Giovanni.” She gave his hand an affectionate squeeze, then drew hers away. “I appreciate the fact that you’re worried about me, but I’m fine. I’m too busy to go out to dinner.”
    “You’re working too hard, and not taking care of yourself. I’m your friend, so it’s up to me.”
    “I promise, I’ll order an enormous meal from room service while I work at the hotel tonight.”
    She touched her lips to his cheek just as the door opened. Elise lifted a brow, mouth tight in disapproval.
    “I’m sorry to interrupt. Miranda, the director would like you to come to her office at four-thirty for a discussion of your progress.”
    “Of course. Elise, do you know if Richard’s free for a moment?”
    “We’re all at your disposal.”
    “That’s exactly what I was telling her.” Obviously immune to frost, Giovanni grinned, then slipped out of the room.
    “Miranda.” After a brief hesitation, Elise stepped farther into the room and shut the door at her back. “I hope you won’t be offended, but I feel I should warn you that Giovanni . . .”
    Darkly amused by Elise’s obvious discomfort, Miranda merely smiled blandly. “Giovanni?”
    “He’s brilliant at his work, a valuable asset to Standjo. But on a personal level, he’s a womanizer.”
    “I wouldn’t say so.” Head angled, Miranda slipped on her glasses, tipping them down to look over the copper tops. “A womanizer uses. Giovanni gives.”
    “That may be true, but the fact is he flirts with every female on staff.”
    “Including you?”
    Elise’s well-arched brows drew together. “On occasion, and I can tolerate that as part of his personality. Still, the lab isn’t the place for flirtations and stolen kisses.”
    “God, you sound like my mother.” And nothing could have irritated Miranda more. “But I’ll keep that in mind, Elise, the next time Giovanni and I toy with having wild sex in the chem lab.”
    “I have offended you.” Elise sighed, lifted her hands helplessly. “I only wanted to . . . It’s just that he can be so charming. I nearly fell for it myself when I first transferred here. I was feeling so low, and unhappy.”
    “Were you?”
    The ice in Miranda’s tone had Elise straightening her slim shoulders. “Divorcing your brother didn’t make me jump for joy, Miranda. It was a painful and difficult decision, and I can only hope it was the right one. I loved Drew, but he. . .” Her voice broke, and she shook her head fiercely. “I can only say it wasn’t enough for either of us.”
    The gleam of moisture in Elise’s eyes brought Miranda a hard tug of shame. “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “It happened so quickly. I didn’t think you gave a damn.”
    “I did. I still do.” She sighed, then blinked back the threatening tears. “I wish it had been different, but the fact is that it wasn’t, and isn’t different. I have to live my life.”
    “Yes, you do.” Miranda shrugged. “Andrew’s been so miserable, and it was easier for me to blame you. I don’t imagine the breakup of a marriage is ever one person’s fault.”
    “I don’t think either of us was very good at marriage. It seemed cleaner and even kinder to end it than to go on pretending.”
    “Like my parents?”
    Elise’s eyes widened. “Oh, Miranda, I didn’t mean—”
    “It’s all right. I agree with you. My parents haven’t lived under the same roof in more than twenty-five years, but neither of them bothers to end it, cleanly or kindly. Andrew may be hurt, but all in all I prefer your way.”
    It was, she admitted, the route she would have taken herself—if she’d ever made the mistake of getting married in the first place. Divorce, she decided, was a more humane alternative to the pale illusion of marriage.
    “Shall I apologize for all the nasty