He could see it easily in his living room along with the other ornate and useless pieces he’d collected over the years. But he’d never have imagined Juliet’s taste running along the same path. “You surprise me again.”

A bit embarrassed, she moved her shoulders. “Oh, I know it’s awful, really, but I love things that don’t belong anywhere at all.”

“Then you must come to Rome and see my house.” At her puzzled look, he laughed. “The last piece I acquired is an owl, this high.” He demonstrated by holding out a palm. “It’s caught a small, unfortunate rodent in its talons.”

“Dreadful.” With something close to a giggle, she kissed him. “I’m sure I’d love it.”

“Perhaps you would at that,” he murmured. “In any case, I believe the elephant should have a good home.”

“You’re going to buy it?” Thrilled, she clasped his hand as they went inside. The shop smelled of sandalwood and carried the tinkle of glass from wind chimes set swaying by a fan. She left him to make arrangements for shipping while she poked around, toying with long strings of brass bells, alabaster lions and ornamental tea services.

All in all, Juliet mused, it had been the easiest, most relaxing day she’d had in weeks, maybe longer. She’d remember it, that she promised herself, when she was alone again and life wound down to schedules and the next demand.

Turning, she looked at Carlo as he said something to make the clerk laugh. She hadn’t thought there were men like him—secure, utterly masculine and yet sensitive to female moods and needs. Arrogant, he was certainly that, but generous as well. Passionate but gentle, vain but intelligent.

If she could have conjured up a man to fall in love with…oh no, Juliet warned herself with something like desperation. It wouldn’t be Carlo Franconi. Couldn’t be. He wasn’t a man for one woman, and she wasn’t a woman for any man. They both needed their freedom. To forget that would be to forget the plans she’d made and had been working toward for ten years. It was best to remember that Carlo was a ride on a carousel, and that the music only played so long.

She took a deep breath and waited for her own advice to sink in. It took longer than it should have. Determined, she smiled and walked to him. “Finished?”

“Our friend will be home soon, very soon after we are.”

“Then we’ll wish him bon voyage. We’d better start thinking airport ourselves.”

With his arm around her shoulders, they walked out. “You’ll give me our Philadelphia schedule on the plane.”

“You’re going to be a smash,” she told him. “Though you might want to try my brewer’s yeast before it’s done.”