She found a belt, thin and supple with a fancy little buckle she knew he wouldn’t object to. After rejecting a half dozen jackets she came across one in linen with a casual, unstructured fit in a shade between cream and brown.

When Carlo stepped out, she thrust them at him, then stood back to take in the entire view. “It’s good,” she decided as he shrugged the jacket on. “Yes, it’s really good. The color of the shirt keeps the rest from being drab and the jacket keeps it just casual enough without being careless.”

“The day Franconi wears clothes off the rack—”

“Only Franconi could wear clothes off the rack and make them look custom-tailored.”

He stopped, meeting the laughter in her eyes. “You flatter me.”

“Whatever it takes.” Turning him around, she gave him a quick push toward the dressing room. “Strip it off, Franconi. I’ll get you some shorts.”

The look he sent her was cool, with very little patience. “There’s a limit, Juliet.”

“Don’t worry about a thing,” she said breezily. “The publisher’ll pick up the tab. Make it fast; we’ve got just enough time to buy your shoes.”

She signed the last receipt five minutes after the PA system announced closing. “You’re set.” Before he could do so himself, she bundled up his packages. “Now, if we can just get a cab to the hotel, we’re in business.”

“I wear your American shoes in protest.”

“I don’t blame you,” she said sincerely. “Emergency measures, caro.”

Foolishly, he was moved by the endearment. She’d never lowered her guard enough to use one before. Because of it, Carlo decided to be generous and forgive her for cracking the whip. “My mother would admire you.”

“Oh?” Distracted, Juliet stood at the curb and held out her hand for a cab. “Why?”

“She’s the only one who’s ever poked and prodded me through a store and picked out my clothes. She hasn’t done so in twenty years.”

“All publicists are mothers,” she told him and switched to her other arm. “We have to be.”

He leaned closer and caught her earlobe between his teeth. “I prefer you as a lover.”

A cab screeched to a halt at the curb. Juliet wondered if it was that which had stolen her breath. Steadying, she bundled Carlo and the packages inside. “For the next few days, I’ll be both.”

It was nearly ten before they checked into the Cocharan House. Carlo managed to say nothing about the separate rooms, but he made up his mind on the spot that she’d spend no time in her own. They had three days and most of that time would be eaten up with business. Not a moment that was left would be wasted.