“Dashing,” Juliet agreed. “If I were six inches taller it might not make me look like a scaled-down pillar. Shoes.” She pulled him along to the next shop.

In short order, Carlo discovered Juliet’s biggest weakness. The way to her heart wasn’t through food, nor was it paved with furs and diamonds. Jewelry displays barely earned her glance. Evening clothes brought a brief survey while day wear and sports clothes won mild interest. But shoes were something different. Within an hour, she’d studied, fondled and critiqued at least fifty pairs. She found a pair of sneakers at 30 percent off and bought them to add to an already substantial collection. Then with a careful maneuver to pick and choose, she weeded her selection down to three pair of heels, all Italian.

“You show excellent taste.” With the patience of a man accustomed to shopping expeditions, Carlo lounged in a chair and watched her vacillate between one pair then the other. Idly, he picked up one shoe and glanced at the signature inside. “He makes an elegant shoe and prefers my lasagna.”

Wide-eyed, Juliet pivoted on the thin heels. “You know him?”

“Of course. Once a week he eats in Franconi’s.”

“He’s my hero.” When Carlo gave her his lifted brow look, she laughed. “I know I can put on a pair of his shoes and go eight hours without needing emergency surgery. I’ll take all three,” she said on impulse, then sat down to exchange the heels for her newly bought sneakers.

“You make me surprised,” he commented. “So many shoes when you have only two feet. This is not my practical Juliet.”

“I’m entitled to a vice.” Juliet pushed the Velcro closed. “Besides, I’ve always known Italians make the best shoes.” She leaned closer to kiss his cheek. “Now I know they make the best…pasta.” Without a blink at the total, she charged the shoes and pocketed the receipt.

Swinging the bag between them, they wandered from tower to tower. A group of women strolled by, earning Carlo’s appreciation. Shopping during lunch hour, he gauged as he tossed an extra look over his shoulder. One had to admire the American workforce.

“You’ll strain your neck that way,” Juliet commented easily. She couldn’t help but be amused by his blatant pleasure in anything female. He merely grinned.

“It’s simply a matter of knowing just how far to go.”

Comfortable, Juliet enjoyed the feel of his fingers laced with hers. “I’d never argue with the expert.”

Carlo stopped once, intrigued by a choker in amethysts and diamonds. “This is lovely,” he decided. “My sister, Teresa, always preferred purple.”

Juliet leaned closer to the glass. The small, delicate jewels glimmered, hot and cold. “Who wouldn’t? It’s fabulous.”

“She has a baby in a few weeks,” he murmured, then nodded to the discreetly anxious clerk. “I’ll see this.”