Forbidden Kiss by Shannon Leigh Page B

the paintings had ever been there, they were moved.
    She finally looked at him with narrowed eyes, suspicion clear in their blue depths.
    “I told you, Jule, I’m willing to work with you. Tell you what I can. Share what I think will help.”
    “Well, that’s the problem now, isn’t it? You’ll only share what you consider safe information. You’re feeding me selective bits, like some art newbie who doesn’t have a clue. It doesn’t matter, anyway. I talked to Rossi an hour ago and he thinks he might have something.”
    “And?” He prompted easily, with only a minor hint of expectation coloring his voice.
    “A Scaligeri Palazzo. Operated by a bankrupt non-profit. The place has been closed for six months while the case awaits a hearing. Rossi said it may be difficult to impossible to get inside.”
    “Unfortunate,” Rom said, turning the problem over in his head.
    She spun on her heel and marched away, then swung back to stand in front of him, her arms on her hips, her dark hair blowing around her shoulders.
    “I’m going in. With or without approval.”
    Her statement caught him off guard. She couldn’t possibly be considering breaking into the place. “Whoa, Jule. Let’s talk about this.”
    “What’s to talk about? I could be here in Verona for months waiting for the palazzo to open. Months I don’t have.”
    He stood swiftly, not liking her tone. “What do you mean? Now I really must demand you tell me what’s happened.”
    “It doesn’t matter.” She brushed away his question with visible impatience. “Too much is riding on this. I’m going in and I’m asking if you want to come.”
    She was serious. And suddenly it clicked in Rom’s head. She asked him because for someone to commit a crime such as breaking and entering, they really should know what they’re doing. It would greatly reduce the chance of going to jail. And apparently Jule thought Rom an expert.
    “What about your reputation? And your vow to not join the family business?” He paused, but his words didn’t seem to be reaching her. “You do realize what will happen if you’re caught?”
    Jule gave him a look that said don’t patronize me .
    “And you’re okay with that?”
    With a withering look in his direction, she slid her book into her shoulder bag and turned her back on him, heading for the exit.
    She would do it. With or without him.
    He never really had a decision to make. So he followed her out of the library garden and onto the narrow sidewalk leading into the heart of Verona.
    Someone had to watch the woman’s back.
    …
    “So who owns the palazzo we’re about to break into?” Rom asked, still worried about Jule’s state of mind.
    Twilight teased at the edges of the horizon, casting glowing drops of light on terra cotta roofs. Rom and Jule sat outside one of the cafes along the row of similar places in Piazza delle Erbe.
    It was as though he’d never left.
    There is no world without Verona walls,
    But purgatory, torture, hell itself.
    Casing the shuttered palazzo told Rom what he needed to know. No electricity. Apparently bankrupt meant no utilities, which meant no alarm. It could also mean all climate sensitive items had already been removed from the museum.
    Jule didn’t agree. She still planned to go ahead when Rom suggested they wait for Rossi’s report.
    He’d stall forever if it meant he wouldn’t have to enter that house. The house of a man he’d killed. A man Shakespeare had dubbed County Paris.
    “I don’t know who runs the nonprofit. But it used to be the residence of one of the della Scalas top supporters.” Jule looked at him as if to ask if he knew the historic family who once ruled the city with an iron fist.
    Yes, he knew them. Had fought them, too.
    Rom figured he knew which della Scala she referred to. “Cangrande I?”
    Surprised, Jule raised her eyebrows. “Yes. How did you guess?”
    No guessing involved. He remembered the bastard. The podesta—chief magistrate, ruler of