Page 31 of The Roman's Woman (A Singular Obsession)

“I didn’t ask Alan to do that, by the way.” He leaned forward to pour her some wine.

“Of course not,” she replied dryly, taking the glass.

“I promise you, I didn’t say a thing. Not about us.”

She laughed. “I think the way you were carrying on, screaming like a fishwife over a little spilled acid was kind of a big tip-off that there was anus.”

He ignored the insult. “Is there still?” he asked softly.

Taking a large sip, she leaned back in her chair and stared at him. “Why do you even want there to be?”

She was at least four sizes too large to be billionaire girlfriend material. She and Kelly had Googled his ex-wife right after he left the day before. The woman was a stick insect…of the gorgeous blonde variety. Seeing the photos had made Sophia sick to her stomach despite Kelly’s assurances that Maria Gianna was too skinny.

Gio was giving her a look of mingled frustration and something else she couldn’t quite define. “I want a second chance. I promise I won’t need a third.”

Some deep dark part of her soul thrilled at his words, but it was buried under layers of apprehension and distrust.

“Why?”

His hand fisted on the table. “I—because you’re amazing. Your research application was head and shoulders above everyone else’s. I couldn’t forget what you said about why you were pursuing that line of research…By the way, did you ever find out if your mother’s sample tested positive for the parasite?”

Sophia swallowed over the sudden lump in her throat. “Her results were inconclusive,” she said, her throat tightening.

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

She gave him a small nod. “So you were so impressed by my big brain you simply had to meet me?” she drawled sarcastically.

He cocked his head and flashed her a devastating smile. “Well, after I saw you in that white dress and almost swallowed my tongue, meeting you became a top priority.”

Her blush crept down all the way down to her chest. Even her décolletage was red. She snuck a glance at Gio’s face, but he was politely looking into her eyes.

“I find it hard to believe I’m your type,” she said.

He frowned and toyed with his fork. “Why is that?”

“I’m not some skinny fashion plate. I don’t dress to show off my body. That white dress is the exception, not the rule. I wouldn’t look right on a billionaire’s arm. I saw pictures of your ex-wife. She’s like a size zero.”

“Sophia, that hardly means I only like skinny women. In fact, I always thought Maria Gianna dieted too much. I’m more egalitarian in my tastes than that.”

“So you’ve dated fatties before?” she asked, her eyebrow raised.

His brow creased. “You’renotfat. I love your curves. I think you know that…and in case you’ve forgotten, I’d be more than happy to demonstrate my enthusiasm for them,” he said, his face sharpening with a predatory hunger that sent a shiver down her spine.

The waiter arrived with their meal, saving her from having to respond to that. She picked at her meal, blushing awkwardly whenever she caught his heated gaze.

He gave her a break for a little while, discussing the lab and its research. Apparently, Alan had given him a tour after she’d gone home yesterday and he was eager to discuss their recent findings and the current state of science in general.

“I do think it’s a double-edged sword that we get so much money from private sources these days,” she said, warming to a topic that she often discussed with her colleagues.

“So I should take my money back?” Gio asked with a glint in his eye.

Sophia’s laugh was a higher pitch than normal. “Bite your tongue. Alan would have me drawn and quartered if he heard you teasing like that. No, I meant that it’s a shame government funding of research has stagnated in the last decade. It’s not a priority in tough economic times. Politicians forget that science funds innovation and industry. And scientists themselves have become extremely conservative when it comes to what research topics they pick since so much depends on getting the next grant. Innovation is dwindling across the board. Cash-strapped labs can’t risk being on the bleeding edge anymore. Most of the time they have to have the research half-done to obtain the money in the first place—to prove a project’s viability. At the same time, having to answer to private donors such as yourself comes with its own set of pitfalls.”

“Like having to have dinner with your benefactors?” he asked with a wry twist of his lips.

“If only it stopped there,” she said, choosing to take his question at face value as they finished up their meal. “Not only do we get accused of conflicts of interest—sometimes with good reason if you do pharma research—but private donor money can come with a lot of strings. The Morgese Foundation doesn’t have this reputation, by the way. I’m thinking of experiences other colleagues have had.”

He nodded and ordered coffee from the waiter before answering. “I’m glad the foundation has good word of mouth. That work is important to me.”

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