Neither of us spoke for the first few minutes of the drive. Lucas sat across from me in the back of the car, watching me with an expression I couldn't quite place, and I sat with my arms folded, still turning over everything I'd watched happen at that party.
"You're quiet," he said finally.
"Just thinking." I replied flatly
"About what." He asked
"About how many women in that room seemed to think they had some claim on you." I said it lightly, though it didn't come out as light as I intended. "Isabela on your arm. That woman from the Madrid office who kept finding excuses to touch your sleeve. I lost count after four."
His mouth twitched, the beginning of a smile he was clearly trying to hold back. "Jealous, Signora DiGiallorenzo?"
"I didn't say that."
"You didn't have to." He shift
