- Someone came who wants to talk to you—some man.

Debby looked up in surprise. Her ordinarily calm secretary seemed nervous.

- His name is Francesco Benedetti - Cindy continued. - And he said Dixon Baker referred him to you. His daughter needs the help of a speech therapist.

- But Dixon knows that our department is closing - answered Debby.

Dixon ran the hospital's hearing implant program and, in recent months, protested against the closing of the department where speech therapists worked with children. Cindy shrugged.

- That's what I told Mr. Benedetti, but he insists on talking to you. He doesn't seem used to rejection—typical Southerner, dark, hot-blooded. I shouldn't have said that - she was ashamed, then she laughed - because I've been married to Gregor for twenty years, but this man is damn attractive!

He insisted on talking to me, and he managed to throw Cindy off balance. However, she was not worried because men had long ceased to interest her, predominantly dark-skinned and handsome ones. A mediocre man would suit her even though they are boring, so she won't be with a seducer like her ex-husband.

She glanced out the window, seeing a black limousine parked next to her "mini." She had already terminated the contract with the Ministry of Health, so she didn't have to receive Francesco Benedetti if she didn't want to. But why not? An empty house and dinner awaited her, which she would eat herself if she could prepare it. She was really tired today, so how else could she cook?

- Let him in.

Cindy went out, and Debby continued to take things out of the drawers. She had already emptied the file cabinets. All that remained was for him to take his diplomas off the wall. Her academic achievements, which made her an expert in this field, were insufficient to secure her a job. The London Ministry of Health budget was drastically reduced, and austerity measures cost her career. Now, she is forced to worry about the future and finally accept the past. The decision to rest for a few months during the summer seemed right so she would have enough time to plan the opening of a private practice. Debby had long dreamed of opening her practice, but it was more important to forget her failed marriage finally. Her husband cheated on her, and it still bothered her.

At the wedding with Bruce, she took his surname, Johnson, and she kept it even after the divorce because her maiden name caused curiosity since she came from the famous Griffon family of actors, which Bruce knew from the beginning. He only married her because he hoped it would enable him to have a successful acting career. When she realized that, it hurt her terribly. Unfortunately, she was so in love and bewitched by Bruce's charm and good looks that she immediately agreed to marry him after only four months of dating! And such impulsiveness is not typical for her.

Deep in thought, Debby approached the window and stared at the potted plant she had inherited two years ago when she accepted the position of child speech therapist. The plant was almost dry, and Cindy wanted to throw it away, but Debby liked a challenge. In the meantime, the plant had recovered and was now very beautiful.

- Don't worry, I'm taking you with me - she muttered.

She read somewhere that plants respond to being talked to. Indeed, her encouraging words all those months affected the chafer’s quick recovery.

There was a sharp knock, and the door opened. When she turned around, she saw that Cindy was missing the big man. The sun shone through the large windows so that she could see the striking features of his face. Debby's first thought was that this man had no common ground with Bruce, but he seemed interesting, too. And in no case is he someone with whom she would feel safe. She understood why Cindy was so fascinated by him. He's damn attractive! She thought he looked like a medieval knight, perhaps because of his exotic complexion, black clothes, and leather jacket accentuating his broad shoulders. Debby estimated that he was at least six feet tall. Her heart skipped a beat when she looked into his eyes. He's not as handsome as Bruce, but a real man. The expression on his face gave nothing away. His lips are compressed as if they are not used to smiling.

As she watched him, she realized with astonishment that the lumps in her stomach stirred. She had long since forgotten that feeling. Ever since she found out that Bruce was sleeping with a photo model with huge breasts, her desire for sex had left her. Excitement so unexpectedly overwhelmed her that she could hardly breathe. This strong man radiates determination. At that moment, she noticed that she stopped breathing, so she coughed, trying to smile at Francesco Benedetti.

- Mr. Benedetti, what brings you to me?

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

His eyes fell on the card with her name attached to the jacket collar, then frowned.

- Are you Debby Johnson? She straightened up. He is arrogant and doesn't like it.

- Yes, it's me - she answered coldly.

- I expected someone older.

Dixon Baker told Francesco that Debby Johnson was a great speech therapist and imagined a gray-haired, serious elderly lady with glasses in a tweed suit. In front of him is a young woman who is more reminiscent of a student than a doctor. Her lush, healthy hair, he sowed herself under the rays of the sun. He glanced over at her delicate build and perfect costume, which was reminiscent of the style from the forties. She was beautiful, although not a classic beauty. Her blouse was buttoned up to the throat.

Debby blushed under the stranger's curious gaze.

- I'm sorry if I disappointed you - she answered ironically.

"I'm not disappointed, Miss Johnson," his voice was deep and a little rough, and Debby felt her hair stand up her neck. - I'm just surprised. You are too young for such a good one’s qualifications.

Debby knew she was young. Once she reaches fifty, she might be happy about it, but that's her job

, which always causes problems. They didn't take her seriously.

- I am twenty-eight years old - she explained. - And Johnson is my husband's last name.

- Excuse me, Mrs. Johnson. Why did I say that? —Debby asked herself. Apparently, she reacted that way to his remark that she was too young.

- Actually, I prefer when they address me as "Miss Johnson. "

He didn't even blink, but Debby felt that he was getting darker and saw her soul with his eyes.

"It's good that we cleared that up," he muttered. - If I offer to sit down, I'll tell you why I came.

She blushed. She wanted to throw him out, but she stopped because she did notice that he was limping.

- I broke my femur - he explained. - That happened several years ago in a car accident.

She was embarrassed that he noticed that she was staring at him. In his presence, she felt like she was sixteen again.

- Don't be so shy - her father kept telling her. - Believe in yourself because if you don't believe in yourself, how will others believe in you?

It was easy for Stuart Griffon to talk like that because he was a great actor, charismatic, exciting, and impulsive, but often, as a father, he was aloof because he was constantly preparing for performances. Her mother, Lorna, was also a talented actress, as was Debby’s brother and two sisters. Only Debby chose a career as a speech therapist, which disappointed her father. It was never easy for her to deal with him, but they have become even more distant in recent years, which Debby tried to correct.

- Miss Johnson?

Francesco Benedetti's voice brought her back to reality. He sat down and stretched his injured leg.

- I'm afraid I can spare only a few minutes for you,

Mr. Benedetti - she explained coldly. - I have a lot of today's obligations.

- Really? - he looked at her in surprise. - It's Dixon Baker, who said that this department is closing.

He caught her lying. For the rest of the afternoon, nothing happened as planned. Sighing, she sat down at the table.

- That's the truth, ' she answered. - I came to collect my things from the office. But after that... I need to deal with my private obligations.

What is she planning, Francesco wondered. To go home, husband, and yes, spend the afternoon in bed with him? He glanced at her hand, noticing that she had no wedding ring on her finger. Then he frowned, realizing in which direction his thoughts were flying. Debby's private life is none of my business.

- I came because my daughter needs a speech therapist, ' he explained. Emma is five years old and was implanted with a hearing implant two months ago. He communicates in sign language, but he can't tell the story.

The faint scent of sandalwood tickled Debby's nostrils. It was hard for her to focus on his words because she was thinking only of how Francesco Benedetti was even more attractive and incredibly sexy up close! For God's sake! She was trying to focus on the conversation.

- Did your daughter get implants here in England?

- Yes, Dixon Baker is her audiologist. He told me you were planning the opening of a private practice.

- That's right - Debby nodded. - Although now I will leave first for a more extended vacation, I will spend the summer in the south of France. I'm sorry I cannot help you, Mr. Benedetti; I will give you the contact of my fellow speech therapists.

Nothing on Francesco Benedetti's face indicated that he was disappointed with her answer.

- Dixon told me that you are the best, and my little girl deserves the best, and I'm willing to pay for it. Mess up, she frowned.

- I don't care about money...

- Miss Johnson, let's be honest. I am one in life learned: It's always about money.

- I understand that you and Emma's mother would like therapy before it starts because it is most effective as soon as the implants are installed...

She hesitated, thinking about why Emma's mother wasn't him.

- May I conclude that Emma's mother agreed with hiring a speech therapist? - she asked cautiously.

- My wife passed away when Emma was a baby.

Debby looked at him fearfully. She didn't know what was worse: the fact that the little deaf girl was left without a mother or the fact that there was no emotion in his voice.

- I'm sorry - she muttered, looking away.

Emma was closed in her quiet world. Thanks to implants, she could hear now, but the sounds were unusual

and undoubtedly scary. And on top of all that, she grew up without a mother and with a father who showed no feelings.

Only now did she notice that he was watching her intently. It might seem kinder when he smiles. Does he ever smile? Her gaze fell on his lips. Would they be soft when he kissed her? She winced, forcing herself to continue the conversation.

- I would really like to help your daughter, Mr. Benedetti, but I will be away for the next few months.

- You said you were going to France?

- Yes. My family has a villa there, and I will be staying there. Maybe I will jump to Italy...

A muscle twitched in his cheek.

It sounds like you'll be alone. Won't your husband come with you?

She almost told him that it was none of his business, but her strange expression turned his eyes away.