“I understand that I want you.” In a swift mood swing, he had her by the shoulders. “If I told you now that I want you more than I’ve wanted any other woman, you wouldn’t believe me.”

She backed away from that, but was caught close again. “No, I wouldn’t. It isn’t necessary to say so.”

“You’re afraid to hear it, afraid to believe it. You won’t get simple with me, Juliet. But you’ll get a lover you’ll never forget.”

She steadied a bit, meeting his look levelly. “I’ve already resigned myself to that, Carlo. I don’t apologize to myself, and I don’t pretend to have any regrets about coming to you last night.”

“Then resign yourself to this.” The temper was back in his eyes, hot and volatile. “I don’t care what’s written in the paper, what’s whispered about in offices in New York. You, this moment, are all I care about.”

Something shattered quietly inside her. A defense built instinctively through years. She knew she shouldn’t take him literally. He was Franconi after all. If he cared about her, it was only in his way, and in his time. But something had shattered, and she couldn’t rebuild it so quickly. Instead, she chose to be blunt.

“Carlo, I don’t know how to handle you. I haven’t the experience.”

“Then don’t handle me.” Again, he took her by the shoulders. “Trust me.”

She put her hands on his, held them a moment, then drew them away. “It’s too soon, and too much.”

There were times, in his work, where he had to be very, very patient. As a man, it happened much more rarely. Yet he knew if he pushed now, as for some inexplicable reason he wanted to, he’d only create more distance between them. “Then, for now, we just enjoy each other.”

That’s what she wanted. Juliet told herself that was exactly what she wanted—no more, no less. But she felt like weeping.

“We’ll enjoy each other,” she agreed. Letting out a sigh, she framed his face with her hands as he so often did with her. “Very much.”

He wondered, when he lowered his brow to hers, why it didn’t quite satisfy.

Chapter Nine

Burned out from traveling, ready for a drink and elevated feet, Juliet walked up to the front desk of their Chicago hotel. Taking a quick glimpse around the lobby, she was pleased with the marble floors, sculpture and elegant potted palms. Such places usually lent themselves to big, stylish bathrooms. She intended to spend her first hour in Chicago with everything from the neck down submerged.

“May I help you?”

“You have a reservation for Franconi and Trent.”

With a few punches on the keyboard, the clerk brought up their reservations on the screen. “You’ll both be staying for two nights, Miss Trent?”