She caught up her gym bag and hurried down the stairs before she did something crazy like change her clothes again. She rushed back toward the sitting room her grandfather seemed to occupy more than ever these days, but stopped abruptly when she heard the whispered but furious conversation between her grandfather and his first-in-command. They kept their voices low, but lately she’d noticed her hearing seemed to be very acute. At the same time, her vision messed up, so that she saw in weird bands of color. Whenever that happened, she felt restless. Edgy. Need burned hot and wild between her legs.

She held the back of a chair just outside the sitting room, her grip so hard her knuckles turned white. She took in long, deep breaths, trying to regain some semblance of control. Her bones ached. Her fingers curled, and she felt that strange feral entity unfolding deep inside of her. Her skin itched, a terrible wave that refused to stop, and she swore something was pressing on her from the inside out, needing to escape. She was afraid of that something. It was wanton, hungry and in terrible need.

She put her head down and breathed more, desperate for the feeling to pass. She was very happy Paolo was nowhere near, because the sound of his voice seemed to trigger a deeper reaction in her.

“I’m telling you, Tonio, this is not a good idea. Something could go wrong.”

“You worry too much, Paolo. Always you worry. She’s young. Beautiful. His mind will be on her. Not my reserve. Not what day of the month it is. On her.”

“I don’t know why you have such an obsession with making certain you exact your revenge. You are putting not only Siena in jeopardy, but you as well. If evidence is left behind . . .”

“Marco knows what he is doing. Always you worry,” her grandfather repeated.

“She is close to the Han Vol Dan. I feel it. My other feels it. She’s very close.”

“You saw evidence of this?”

“No evidence, just a feeling. She can’t do this, Tonio. Stop her. I’m telling you, something could go wrong. If the timing is off, if she lingers . . .”

“She’s a good girl. She will do as she’s told and then go to her gym where many witnesses will see her there.”

Witnesses? She is close? What did that mean. Evidence? What were they talking about?

“Tonio.” Paolo bit out the name between his teeth.

“Paolo.” Her grandfather did the same. “The subject is closed. Go find her. Tell her the wine is in her car and she must go now.”

Paolo swore in Italian, but she knew he would obey. Everyone obeyed her grandfather. He’d built an empire with his wineries and his amazing grapes. He had more money than he knew what to do with, and he’d made good friends and many enemies along the way.