She let out a long, unsteady breath, wondering if he really believed that was easy. For him it might be just another stroll through the moonlight. For her, it was a race through a hurricane. “I want to keep that aspect of our relationship completely separate from the professional area.”

It surprised him he could find such a statement endearing. Perhaps the fact that she was half romanticist and half businesswoman was part of her appeal to him. “Juliet, my love, you sound as though you’re negotiating a contract.”

“Maybe I do.” Nerves were beginning to run through her too quickly again. “Maybe I am, in a way.”

His own anger had disappeared. Her eyes weren’t nearly as certain as her voice. Her hands, he noted, were twisting together. Slowly, he walked toward her, pleased that though she didn’t back away, the wariness was back. “Juliet…” He lifted a hand to brush through her hair. “You can negotiate terms and times, but not emotion.”

“You can—regulate it.”

He took both her hands, kissing them. “No.”

“Carlo, please—”

“You like me to touch you,” he murmured. “Whether we stand here alone, or we stand in a group of strangers. If I touch your hand, like this, you know what’s in my mind. It’s not always passion. There are times, I see you, I touch you, and I think only of being with you—talking, or sitting silently. Will you negotiate now how I am to touch your hand, how many times a day it’s permitted?”

“Don’t make me sound like a fool.”

His fingers tightened on hers. “Don’t make what I feel for you sound foolish.”

“I—” No, she couldn’t touch that. She didn’t dare. “Carlo, I just want to keep things simple.”

“Impossible.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Then tell me, is this simple?” With just his fingertips on her shoulder, he leaned down to kiss her. So softly, so lightly, it was hardly a kiss at all. She felt her legs dissolve from the knees down.

“Carlo, we’re not staying on the point.”

He slipped his arms around her. “I like this point much better. When we get to Chicago…” His fingers slipped up and down her spine as he began to brush his lips over her face. “I want to spend the evening alone with you.”

“We—have an appointment for drinks at ten with—”

“Cancel it.”

“Carlo, you know I can’t.”

“Very well.” He caught the lobe of her ear between his teeth. “I’ll plead fatigue and make certain we have a very quick, very early evening. Then, I’ll spend the rest of the night doing little things, like this.”

His tongue darted inside her ear, then retreated to the vulnerable spot just below. The shudder that went through her was enough to arouse both of them. “Carlo, you don’t understand.”