"Fran, darling! Is that you... is it really you?"A wave of nostalgia passed through Fran as she recognized Giuliano's voice. The strong Italian accent... the same caressing tones... "Yes... yes... it is... how are you?" How am I?" The Italian's voice was incredulous, mocking. "What kind of question is that to answer over the phone? When am I going to see you, darling? Shall it be lunch or dinner? Are you still married or what?"Fran felt a brief moment of regret as she answered, "Yes... yes, I'm. Trying not to get my hopes up."No, it's not, Marc," her voice was throaty, full of desire. "Every guy who asks me out ... I compare him to you. You are the benchmark every man must meet for me. You're handsome. You're smart. You're funny. You're kind. You always do the right thing. You can bring out the best in anyone around you. All the others ... They've all fallen short. I realised last year that there was no sense in trying to find a guy just like you ... Not when I can have you..."She. More

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