They sounded confident - old-fashioned leather soles on the wooden floor. A man appeared in front of her; big, lean and in a dark suit. Good - a small...guy would have had to be smart. The Boss.“Sei italiano?” The first suit had reported her accent to him. His accent was American! This was a bonus. Someone with Italian roots, or connections at least.“Si. Sono venuto a proporre alcuni affari, con la persona che possiede la barca,” she spoke quickly.He looked down at her while clearly he did the. She stopped laughing for a moment and looked into my eyes, then did sort of a situp to bring her face closer to mine.Neither of us said a word and I fought the urge to grab her face and kiss her panting lips.“Six-two,” I said softly.“For now,” she grinned.I got up off her and extended both hands her way, leaving her no chance to topple me again.She smirked and accepted both hands up and stood once again, catching her breath.“Thirsty?” she asked innocently.“I’m two shots away from beating you. I. More

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