“Run for a license and a priest.” Rising, he slipped his hands into the pockets of the slacks Juliet had selected for him. “Easy words before the heart trembles. I don’t want to lose her.” Once said, he sighed. “It’s never mattered before, but now it matters too much to make the wrong move. She’s elusive, Summer. There are times I hold her and feel part of her pull away. I understand her independence, her ambition, and even admire them.”

“I have Blake, but I still have my independence and my ambition.”

“Yes.” He smiled at her. “Do you know, she’s so like you. Stubborn.” When Summer lifted a brow, he grinned. “Hard in the head and so determined to be the best. Qualities I’ve always found strangely appealing in a beautiful woman.”

“Merci, mon cher ami,” Summer said dryly. “Then where’s your problem?”

“You’d trust me.”

She looked surprised, then moved her shoulders as though he’d said something foolish. “Of course.”

“She can’t—won’t,” Carlo corrected. “Juliet would find it easier to give me her body, even part of her heart than her trust. I need it, Summer, as much as I need what she’s already given me.”

Thoughtful, Summer leaned against a crate. “Does she love you?”

“I don’t know.” A difficult admission for a man who’d always thought he understood women so well. He smiled a little as he realized a man never fully understood the woman most important to him. With any other woman he’d have been confident he could guide and mold the emotions to his own preference. With Juliet, he was confident of nothing.

“There are times she seems very close and times she seems very detached. Until yesterday I hadn’t fully begun to know my own mind.”

“Which is?”

“I want her with me,” he said simply. “When I’m an old man sitting by the fountains watching the young girls, I’ll still want her with me.”

Summer moved over to put her hands on his shoulders. “Frightening, isn’t it?”

“Terrifying.” Yet somehow, he thought, easier now that he’d admitted it. “I’d always thought it would be easy. There’d be love, romance, marriage and children. How could I know the woman would be a stubborn American?”

Summer laughed and dropped her forehead to his. “No more than I could know the man would be a stubborn American. But he was right for me. Your Juliet is right for you.”

“So.” He kissed Summer’s temple. “How do I convince her?”

Summer frowned a moment, thinking. With a quick smile, she walked over to a corner. Picking up a broom, she held it out to him. “Sweep her off her feet.”