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CHAPTER ONE

ANGELO GORDON’S blue eyes narroith interest

“You’re sure of this information, amico mio?” he demanded, his American accent spiced with Sicilian overtones that denoted his reaction to the news ly than words could have

Hawk nodded “Positive Baron Randall has been keeping tabs on Tara Peters since their affair ended two years ago”

“How did you find out?”

“The owner of the security agency Randall has on retainer talks more than he should after a couple of whiskey sours” Hawk didn’t e when someone else did

“That’s convenient”

“I thought so”

“Okay Giveout”

Hawk tossed the file on Angelo’s desk and waited for the tall Sicilian-American to open it

He pointed to the news story on top that showed his client’s enemy with his arm around a woman more than a decade his junior “Randall and Miss Peters o at a fashion show in New York He was there with another model, but left with Miss Peters By all accounts, he swept the young Miss Peters off her feet and into his bed She gave up ether for eighteen ed to his current wife Ruests he asked Miss Peters to remain his mistress”

“She refused”

“Yes”

“She was stronger than elo’s voice “Why is he having her watched?”

“According to iven instructions to scotch any possible roue hasn’t had to make the effort”

Angelo surged to his feet and turned to look out thebehind his desk His brooding six-foot-two-inch fraht and Hawk’s view of upper Manhattan “What the hell does he expect to accomplish? That’s what I want to know”

“Obviously reentrance into her life”

Angelo turned back, his patrician features creased with a frown of disbelief “That doesn’t make any sense She said no and apparently meant it”

“Right It e to last in the first place When he nosed with an inoperable heart condition”