22
EMMY
“It’s seven o’clock in the morning, Mrs. Black. This had better be good.”
“This is no more pleasurable for me than it is for you, I can guarantee that.”
I’d woken Nico up. My call had gone to voicemail, so I’d let myself into his villa—its location was obvious by the “Private - Keep Out” signs—and roused him personally. To give him credit, he didn’t try to throw me out or have his security staff do it either. But the two men I’d slipped past would probably get a stern talking-to later.
“Want me to make coffee while you put some clothes on?”
Turned out he slept naked, which was slightly awkward, but he did have nice abs.
“If you wouldn’t mind.”
He didn’t bother with a shirt, just materialised in the kitchen two minutes later in a pair of grey flannel trousers and bare feet.
