"Oh, I've missed you," she said in Italian.

Rapp awkwardly held the flowers in one hand and his coffee in the other. He kissed the top of her head and said in Italian, "I've missed you, too."

Donatella gave him one more squeeze and then released him. Closing the office door she said, "Why didn't you call me?" Rapp innocently shrugged his shoulders. "I was in the neighbor hood so I decided to stop by. I'd expect you to do the same if you were in America." It was in that instant that Rapp knew Donatella had been the woman he'd seen at George Washington University. She averted her eyes from his for the briefest of moments. She had killed Peter Cameron.

"Are these for me?" Donatella thrust her arms out and took the flowers from Rapp. She walked over to a long credenza in front of a window that overlooked a courtyard. "This was very nice of you. You didn't have to bring me flowers After unwrapping them, she turned to Rapp, the bouquet in her outstretched hands. "What is this?"

Rapp looked at the flowers, and then the look on Donatella's face. He wasn't quite sure what she meant.

"Yellow," said Donatella in a disappointed voice. "Yellow is for your secretary, not a woman whose bed you've shared." She dropped the flowers on the credenza and folded her arms across her chest.

Rapp felt bad for just a second and then remembered Anna. He couldn't very well be planning to ask her to marry him and go around giving red roses to former lovers. "They are very pretty flowers."

"Yes they are, but they are not red." Donatella eyed him suspiciously. "There is someone else, isn't there? Someone very important?"

"Yes," he replied with a mix of pride and dread. Donatella meant a lot to him, and he did not want to hurt her feelings.

She studied her old lover for a moment and could sense that this was very hard for him. Determined to hide her true feelings she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and gave him a big hug. Inside, however, she could feel herself plunging toward darkness. Part of her, however foolishly, had always hoped that someday, she and Mitch would walk away from their respective intelligence agencies, get married and have a baby. Deep down she had always known it had been an irrational indulgence, but she had allowed it nonetheless.

Now she kissed him on the cheek and said, "Congratulations. Do I get to meet her?"

Caught off guard, Rapp stammered and then said, "I don't know ... maybe."

"Is she here in Milan?" Donatella locked onto him with her piercing brown eyes.

Rapp thought of lying and then quickly decided against it. "Yes, she is."

"You don't want me to meet her."

"No ... I didn't say that. It's just that it might be a little tricky."

"Please tell me she knows what you do for a living. Or I should say what you really do for a living."

"Yes." Rapp nodded. "Unfortunately, she knows more than she should."

"Then what's the problem? I'd love to meet her."

The meeting wasn't going exactly as he'd planned. "We were lovers, Donatella. I have no burning desire to meet any of her ex boyfriends."

Donatella chose to focus on the first part of his comment. "Yes, we were lovers." She cocked her head to the side in a confident manner and asked, "How is the sex?"

Rapp frowned. "Donatella."

She persisted. "Is it as good as the sex we had?" Her Italian passion was showing through.

"Donatella, I don't think we should be talking about this."

She looked at him with utter confidence and said, "It must not be."

"We have a wonderful relationship."

"Is she an American?"

"Yes, she's an American."

Donatella let out a laugh that was more of a scoff. "Then it's impossible. There is no way the sex is better."

For some reason Rapp felt the need to defend Anna. "Hey, we have great sex."

In a disbelieving tone she asked, "Better than the sex we had?"

Rapp knew there was no way he could answer this question without either angering Donatella or being disloyal to Anna. "It's different, Donatella, okay?"

"Ha," she laughed with an obvious tone of satisfaction. "It is not better. I can see it in your eyes." She walked over to her desk and yanked open a drawer in search of a pack of cigarettes. "I would like to meet her. Maybe we can have dinner tonight?" She found her cigarettes and lit one.

Rapp declined to take one even though he was tempted. He took the opportunity to get down to the real reason he'd traveled all the way from America. "There is something I need to talk to you about."

"What does she do for a living?"

"We are going to change the subject." Rapp stood firmly in front of her desk.

Donatella took a drag from her cigarette and through the smoke she eyed Rapp suspiciously and said, "I don't believe you. There is no way she knows what you've done for your government."

"She does. In fact, she's seen me in action."

"How ... When?"

"Remember the incident at the White House last spring?" "Of course. Ben told me you were involved in it."

"She was one of the hostages."

"Ah ... Stockholm syndrome."

Rapp frowned. Stockholm syndrome was a psychological term for hostages who began to sympathize with their captors. "Donatella, I wasn't one of the terrorists. I was the one killing the terrorists."

"Oh well, then Florence Nightingale syndrome."

"No." He shook his head and smiled. "I wasn't a nurse, either."

"Oh ..." She waved her hand in frustration. "You know what I mean."

"No, I don't actually, but we don't need to get hung up on this." Rapp stopped abruptly and studied Donatella as she nervously puffed on her cigarette. With a playful grin he said, "I didn't expect you to be so jealous."

"Of course I am, and you would be too if I was the one in love."

Rapp had to be honest. He thoughtfully said, "Yes, I'm sure I would be." He went around the desk and wrapped his arms around her.

Donatella stabbed her cigarette out in the ashtray on her cluttered desk. "This is a lonely fucking life we live. And now I'm all alone and you're not." She buried her head in his chest. "You re the only man I've ever really loved. The only person who really knows me."

Rapp stroked her hair. "I felt the same way about you too, but you know in the long run it would never have worked out between us. We're too much alike."

Donatella looked up at him. There were no tears in her eyes. She was too tough for that. "Yeah, you're probably right." She released him and took a step back. "Have you asked her to marry you yet?"

"Not yet."

"So you are going to ask her?"

Rapp nodded. "I really would like to meet her." She read Rapp's expression and added, "I'm serious. Don't worry, I won't do anything crazy. If you've fallen in love with her I'm sure she's a lovely woman."

"She's a reporter." Rapp wasn't sure why he'd offered that piece of information.

"You can't be serious."

"I am."

"Does she know about me?"

"No," answered Rapp.

Donatella thought about this twist for a moment. "You obviously trust her."

"Yes."

"Then I'd like to meet her."

"All right. I'll see what I can do." Rapp set his coffee cup on the desk and grabbed both of Donatella's hands. "I need something from you, and it's very important." Rapp looked into her beautiful eyes and waited for an answer.

Donatella could sense that something serious was on its way. She cautiously studied Rapp for a moment and then said, "I have always been there for you, and I always will be."

"Thank you. You know the same goes for me."

"Of course."

"Were you in Washington two weeks ago?" Rapp saw the flicker of surprise in her eyes.

Donatella's mind was reeling as she tried to figure out how Mitch could have known she was in Washington. Her disguise had been perfect, and the hit had gone down without a problem. He had to know something. Whatever the case was she could not talk about it in her office. It wasn't secure. She held her index finger to her lips to signal that it wasn't safe to talk about such matters, and then said, "I was in New York but not Washington. I'm sorry I didn't call, but I was only in town for a few days."