On Thin Ice Read Online Free PDF Page A

know what you’re capable of. Save the hearts and violins for some other fool. Did you contact me on your own? Or was it Vito’s idea?”
    “Vito misses you. He’s never been the same, never stopped grieving.”
    Even after all this time, even despite the bitter memories, sadness swelled in her soul when she thought of him. “Did Vito set this up? Did he send you to me, to my firm?”
    Franco hesitated, then shook his head. Gabrielle said nothing for a long moment, then she leaned forward and spoke very quietly, deliberately. “Then we won’t bring Vito into this. Do you understand? He’s not to be mentioned. I cut my ties with Vito fourteen years ago and you know why.”
    “You must—”
    Her voice was calm and deadly icy when she interrupted. “Don’t cross me, Franco. Or you’ll find out that Vito isn’t the only Donati you need fear.”
    Seconds ticked by while their gazes locked. Finally, Franco glanced away. “You wrong me, cara. I won’t expose you.”
    “Good.” Thank God, she sounded cool, because inside she shook with nerves. It would be a major mistake to let Franco know just how much he’d gotten to her. “Now that we understand each other, I’ll see what I can do to get you out of jail.”
    “Ciao, mi bellisima Gabriela.”
    “Gabrielle Rousseau. Remember it.” She repeated it silently as she left, as if saying her name would make the truth impotent. It only mocked her, though. She knew what would happen if the truth ever came out.
    Ruin.

CHAPTER THREE
     
    After ringing the doorbell three times, Devlin decided Gabrielle must have been held up at the jail or had gone back to the office. The door jerked open just as he started to turn away. She didn’t say anything, but stood in the doorway and stared at him.
    Dark brown hair caught in a topknot with the ends sticking straight up, no lipstick, mascara smudged under gorgeous green eyes. The features were the same, but . . . Who the hell was this woman? What had happened to Ms. Buttoned-up Dressed-for-success Gabrielle Rousseau?
    His gaze dropped from her face to a baggy white T-shirt with the logo of a man holding an alligator guitar. “We be jazzin’,” it read. Bare feet, cutoffs, and legs longer than a country mile completed the picture.
    And judging by her bewildered expression, she didn’t have a clue why he was there.
    “Hi. I brought Chinese.” He held up a plastic carton and a paper sack. “Hope that’s okay, but you didn’t say what you wanted.”
    “What I . . .” Laying a hand aside her head, she continued to stare as her voice trailed off and her brow furrowed in bafflement.
    “You forgot,” he said, a little amused to find his pride bruised. “You’re hard on the ego, did you know that?” Women didn’t forget dates, even working dates, with Devlin. They might break them, but they didn’t totally forget them. Gabrielle, apparently, had.
    “You’ll live. I can’t imagine your ego suffering for long.” She stepped aside to let him in, obviously having regained her poise.
    “Is that a compliment or an insult?”
    Her mouth curved upward. “Take it whichever way you want. But if it makes you feel better, I didn’t forget. I just didn’t realize what time it was.”
    He let that pass, but he knew she hadn’t remembered their working dinner. It piqued his vanity, especially since he didn’t think the sexual pull between them was all on his side. Yet even more than insulting him, her forgetfulness aroused his curiosity. An attorney with Gabrielle’s reputation wouldn’t forget something like the Sabatino case. Could she really be a space cadet? He seriously doubted it. More likely, she was playing some kind of game.
    Stepping over a pair of tan pumps lying drunkenly beside the front door, he walked inside and glanced around. The dining room and living room were combined. Instead of a table in the dining area, a black baby grand piano filled the entire space. A book stood open on the music tray over the