“No, it’s not.” He took her chin in his hand and held it. “I saw fear in your eyes before. It concerned me. Now I think it wasn’t me you were afraid of, but yourself.”

“That’s none of your business.”

“No, it’s not,” he said again. “You appeal to me, Juliet, in many ways, and I intend to take you to bed. But we’ll wait until you aren’t afraid.”

She wanted to rage at him. She wanted to weep. He saw both things clearly. “We have an early flight in the morning, Carlo.”

He let her go, but stood where he was for a long time after he’d heard her door shut across the hall.

Chapter Six

Dallas was different. Dallas was Dallas without apology. Texas rich, Texas big and Texas arrogant. If it was the city that epitomized the state, then it did so with flair. Futuristic architecture and mind-twisting freeways abounded in a strange kind of harmony with the more sedate buildings downtown. The air was hot and carried the scents of oil, expensive perfumes and prairie dust. Dallas was Dallas, but it had never forgotten its roots.

Dallas held the excitement of a boomtown that was determined not to stop booming. It was full of downhome American energy that wasn’t about to lag. As far as Juliet was concerned they could have been in downtown Timbuktu.

He acted as though nothing had happened—no intimate dinner, no arousal, no surrender, no cross words. Juliet wondered if he did it to drive her crazy.

Carlo was amiable, cooperative and charming. She knew better now. Under the amiability was a shaft of steel that wouldn’t bend an inch. She’d seen it. One could say she’d felt it. It would have been a lie to say she didn’t admire it.

Cooperative, sure. In his favor, Juliet had to admit that she’d never been on tour with anyone as willing to work without complaint. And touring was hard work, no matter how glamorous it looked on paper. Once you were into your second full week, it became difficult to smile unless you were cued. Carlo never broke his rhythm.

But he expected perfection—spelled his way—and wouldn’t budge an inch until he got it.

Charming. No one could enchant a group of people with more style than Franconi. That alone made her job easier. No one would deny his charm unless they’d seen how cold his eyes could become. She had.

He had flaws like any other man, Juliet thought. Remembering that might help her keep an emotional distance. It always helped her to list the pros and cons of a situation, even if the situation was a man. The trouble was, though flawed, he was damn near irresistible.

And he knew it. That was something else she had to remind herself of.