He knew that it was stupid. And dangerous. But he didn't care. From the moment Giovanni escorted Sabrina home from the formal dinner she'd attended, he knew what he had to do.

     He had maintained his stoic demeanor throughout the night. Despite every temptation, not once had he even slanted a glance her way. Not when she had accepted a dance with the handsome stranger who smiled in her face, and not when she smilingly accepted the hand of her cousin Vincent, who led her to the dance floor and held her close.

     He had been livid inside. Livid that some other man dared look her way, livid that Sabrina did not rebuff their advances, livid that her father, Don Michael, had forever put her out of his future.

     Giovanni followed her silently into the wing of the house Sabrina shared with her father and stepmother. Don Michael and his bride occupied the west wing while allowing Sabrina the limited privacy of the east. It was as much a concession to her need for distance between them as the head of the Corleone family would allow.

     "You looked beautiful tonight," he announced to her retreating back.

     Sabrina froze in shock. It had been so long since Giovanni had acknowledged her presence that she did not know what to make of his remark. Slowly, almost reluctantly she turned to face him.

     Giovanni read her reluctance. "You looked beautiful tonight." He sauntered to the media cabinet and looked through her selection of compact discs. "Every man there wanted to be with you." He found the disc he searched for and placed it inside the player.

     "So did I."