Page 3 of The Roman's Woman (A Singular Obsession)

Sophia Márquez’s suggestion that parasites likeT. gondiicould be tied to diseases like Alzheimer’s or schizophrenia was enough to make Gio sit up and take notice. After confirming the stellar quality of Dr. Márquez’s credentials, he put her name at the top of his funding list.

Gio was eager to meet her for another reason, as well. He’d asked all the applicants for a personal anecdote—a reason why they pursued the projects they did. He knew it was uncommon in grant applications to request any personal information, but he wanted a deeper understanding of the people asking him for money.

Dr. Márquez’s reason for pursuing her line of research had been the only one that truly moved him. The doctor’s mother had died of a fast progressing case of dementia, one that had been tentatively diagnosed as Alzheimer’s. Based on her knowledge of her mother’s lifestyle, Dr. Márquez suspected a link between a parasite likeT. gondiiand her mother’s disease.

Part of the research involved examining brain tissue from hundreds of patients to find such parasites. One of those samples came from her own mother. Since her study had been a double-blind, Sophia had no idea which sample had belonged to her mother, so she treated them as though they all were: with respect and reverence.

The application didn’t say whether or not her mother’s brain tissue had tested positive for a parasite. It was one of the things Gio wanted to ask her. Hopefully she wouldn’t be offended by his curiosity.

“Did you meet Dr. Márquezyet?” he asked Charles once Dr. Patel had wandered off for more refreshments.

Charles scanned the crowded ballroom. “I don’t see her. Should I go find her?”

Gio nodded. “I’ll be on the balcony,” he said, giving the crowd a wary glance.

Charles smiled sympathetically. “What about our other conversation?”

“It can wait till tomorrow,” he said, shoulders sagging. All this socializing was draining. “Just try to catch Dr. Márquezbefore she leaves,” he added as he took in the thinning crowd.

Charles nodded and walked away in search of the other grant winner.

What time was it again?He checked his watch and stifled a yawn. It was still too early for him to leave. Making his way up the stairs to the less-crowded balcony, he flagged down a waiter and asked for a grappa. The waiter had just finished serving him his drink when he sawher.

A buzzing, lightheadedness overcame him as he took in the sight of the woman below him in the center of the ballroom. The stranger was a vision, stunning in a vintage white satin dress reminiscent of a 40’s pin-up. Her hair was dark brown with gleaming mahogany highlights, with lips that were red and full. Her skin was a light caramel color that complimented her exotically attractive features. And her body was outrageous…

There was simply no other description for it. Curves that should have been illegal filled out that satin with a flair that dropped his IQ several points.

Gio shifted, uncomfortably aware that he was aroused. He’d never gotten that hot and hard so fast before. Feeling like a stupid teenager, he downed his drink. He was grateful for the protection the balcony wall offered as he stared down at his siren, memorizing her face and every delicious curve.

She was probably married. Or a lesbian. That was the kind of luck he was having these days.

He shook his head and tried to get a grip. Even if she wasn’t available, he had to meet her—just as soon as he composed himself. Surely the siren would notice a raging hard-on if he went to shake her hand right now. It was an embarrassing position for a man who prided himself on his self-control.

Clutching his empty glass, he used his free hand to grip the railing. A flare of what could only be jealousy spiked through him when his siren laughed at something the man next to her said—a man he hadn’t noticed through his haze of lust. There was actually a cluster of men, all standing way too close to her. Irritated, Gio glared at the men as if he could will them away with the power of his mind.

Footsteps behind him signaled Charles’ return. “I’m sorry, I was waylaid on the stairs. I didn’t see her. She’s probably in the restroom,” he said, huffing a bit as he joined Gio on the balcony.

Gio waved the excuse away and pointed at the siren. “Who is that?”

Charles leaned over the railing. “Oh, good. You found her.”

Startled, Gio glanced at him. He couldn’t mean the siren. “No, the woman in the white dress. Who is she?”

Charles gave him a knowing smile. “That is Dr. Márquez, hiding in plain sight. I spoke to her earlier. Shall I call her over?”

Gio stilled. That couldn’t be Sophia Márquez. No doctor looked like that. That woman down there was his fantasy pin-up, not an M.D. who cut up brains for a living.

Crap.

Was she married? The grant application didn’t include any personal questions about family beyond what the applicant shared in their personal anecdote. Had he at least included marital status on the questionnaire? If he had, he couldn’t remember what hers had been. All he could recall was the details of her work.

“Gio?” Charles was waving a hand in front of his face with a smirk.

Feeling himself redden, Gio shook his head. “No, I’ll introduce myself. I should apologize for missing the ceremony,” he said, straightening his suit jacket.

“Okay.” Charle’s voice was smug, but Gio didn’t care.

Dr. Márquez had broken from the thinning crowd. Worried she was leaving, he hurried after her, taking the steps down from the balcony two at a time.

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