Widow - Anne Stuart
Aristide Pompasse stood in his apartment in Florence, staring out into the street below, well pleased with his life. He was the world’s greatest living artist, and his paintings were worth millions. True, he hadn’t been painting for the past few years. And no wonder—he’d lost his light, his muse, his inspiration.
But all that would change. Charlie would be back soon. He should have realized how much he needed her, but Pompasse was not the sort of man to need people. He was accustomed to being t ...