10 Chapter 10

The thought of him getting in a huff over a bouquet of flowers—over anything, actually—was amusing. A man of my lover’s caliber didn’t generally get in a huff.

Chuckling, I brought the vase and flowers into the kitchen, then went down the hall that led to my wine cellar, where I chose a merlot that would complement whatever Giovanni selected for us.

In the kitchen once again, I took the flowers from the vase and wrapped the stems in newspaper before emptying the vase of water and leaving it upside down in the sink to drain. I retrieved my jacket, and was about to gather up the flowers and the wine, when at the last minute, I decided to take my laptop as well. If Mark should have to go in to work at some point this weekend, I’d distract myself with research for an idea I’d been amusing myself with: I’d write a book about a couple of spies.