“Of course.” Because she was distracted by what she thought was a foolish question, Juliet climbed into the limo ahead of him. “We’ve a solid schedule in L.A.” And she didn’t see the point in mentioning there were some cities on the tour where they wouldn’t be quite so busy. “A morning talk show with a good reputation, a popular radio show, two print interviews, two quick spots on the evening news and the Simpson Show.” She said the last with a hint of relish. The Simpson Show offset what she was doing to the budget with limos.

“So you’re pleased.”

“Yes, of course.” Digging into her briefcase, she took out her folder to recheck the name of her contact at the radio station.

“Then why do you look so annoyed?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You get a line right…here,” he said as he ran a fingertip between her eyebrows. At the touch, Juliet jerked back before she could stop herself. Carlo only cocked his head, watching her. “You may smile and speak in a quiet, polite voice, but that line gives you away.”

“I was very pleased with the taping,” she said again.

“But?”

All right, she thought, he was asking for it. “Perhaps it annoys me to see a woman making a fool of herself.” Juliet stuffed the folder back into her briefcase. “Liz Marks is married, you know.”

“Wedding rings are things I try to be immediately aware of,” he said with a shrug. “Your instructions were to be charming, weren’t they?”

“Perhaps charm has a different meaning in Italy.”

“As I said, you must come to Rome.”

“I suppose you enjoy having women drooling all over you.”

He smiled at her, easy, attractive, innocent. “But of course.”

A gurgle of laughter bubbled in her throat but she swallowed it. She wouldn’t be charmed. “You’ll have to deal with some men on this tour as well.”

“I promise not to kiss Simpson’s fingers.”

This time the laughter escaped. For a moment, she relaxed with it, let it come. Carlo saw, too briefly, the youth and energy beneath the discipline. He’d like to have kept her like that longer—laughing, at ease with him, and with herself. It would be a challenge, he mused, to find the right sequence of buttons to push to bring laughter to her eyes more often. He liked challenges—particularly when there was a woman connected to them.

“Juliet.” Her name flowed off his tongue in a way only the European male had mastered. “You mustn’t worry. Your tidily married Liz only enjoyed a mild flirtation with a man she’ll more than than likely never see again. Harmless. Perhaps because of it, she’ll find more romance with her husband tonight.”

Juliet eyed him a moment in her straight-on, no-nonsense manner. “You think quite of lot of yourself, don’t you?”