“Not a chance,” she muttered to him.

“My turn,” he insisted.

“You’re not buying my clothes,” she told him, as the clerk glanced from one credit card to the next.

“I’m going to enjoy them every bit as much as you.”

“Not if you keep this up,” said Charlotte, and the clerk was forced to fight a grin.

Alec hesitated, and Charlotte moved quickly, pressing her credit card into the clerk’s palm.

“I win,” she sang.

He gazed down at the black camisole and thong on the counter. “Not necessarily.”

As they had with her other purchases, they arranged to have them delivered to the hotel.

“Are we done?” asked Alec on the way out the door.

Charlotte pretended to consider. “That should keep me for a few days,” she allowed.

“We still have London and Paris,” he reminded her.

“Then I’m done for now,” she said decisively.

“Thank goodness.” He gently steered her south on the busy street.

“If you don’t like shopping, why did you come?”

“Because you…” He smacked her smartly on the bottom.

“Hey!”

Two passing Italian men whistled their appreciation.

“…wouldn’t stay home with me,” Alec finished.

She blinked innocently up at him. “I was supposed to stay home?”

“Do you have any idea how much trouble it was to get Kiefer to take Raine out of our hair?”

“I can’t believe it was hard at all. He’s got the hots for her.”

“You knew that?”

Charlotte scoffed out a laugh. “It’s pretty obvious. Well, to everybody but Raine. She likes him, too, you know.”

“So I hear.”

“You playing matchmaker?” she asked.

“I wanted to see you alone. Those two can take care of themselves.”

“And, here we are,” noted Charlotte.

“You made me work hard enough.”

“Serves you right. Pimping out your sister like that.”

“Clearly, I’m shameless when it comes to you.”

“Let’s hope I’m worth it.”

His voice lowered to an intimate tone. “Oh, I already know you’re worth it.”

While Charlotte told herself not to read too much into his words, they walked in silence along the narrow, cobblestone street amongst other couples and families out enjoying the sunshine and shopping. They came around a corner to the Tiber River.

Alec pointed to a marina of large, expensive-looking yachts. “We should rent a boat.”

“You’re joking.” Talk about an extravagance.

“You have to see the river, particularly at sunset. The bridges, the statues. St. Peter’s Basilica and the Castillo de San Angelo are absolutely magnificent.”

“Look.” It was her turn to point. “There’s a patio café. We can see the river for the price of a cup of coffee.”

Alec turned to stare at her in confusion. “You don’t want to cruise?”

“I don’t want to rent a yacht!”

“It’s only money.”

She took his hand. “Let’s get a cup of coffee, then we’ll walk a ways.”

“Coffee?” he confirmed with obvious disappointment.

She nodded and pointed them toward the little café.

They found mesh, metal seats and a little metal table by the rail. The breeze was cool off the water, and a barge floated by, while compact cars made their way over an ancient stone bridge.

Before sitting down, Alec removed his jacket, putting it around Charlotte’s shoulders. She smiled her thanks.

While he spoke to the waiter in Italian, Alec pulled out his own seat.

He sat down, his gaze soft on her face as he seemed to consider her. “You’re different,” he finally told her.

“Different from what?” The coat was still warm from his body heat, and it felt comforting around her body.

“From other women.”

She toyed with the silverware on the table. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

He sat back in his chair. “Ever since they estimated my net worth in Forbes, it’s as if I have a bull’s-eye painted in the middle of my back. A great big target for every woman who thinks her life would be improved by money.”

“Were they right?”

His forehead creased. “The women?”

A tourist barge sounded its horn, and a group of partyers waved and shouted.

Charlotte waved in return. “Forbes.”

“Why? Did you read it?”

“No. But your château and your jet plane have me convinced you’re a pretty good catch.”

He shook his head. “Do you have any idea how long it’s been since I’ve had a date pay for her own clothes?”

Charlotte couldn’t help but smirk. “You buy your dates clothes?”

“I buy my dates many things.”

“You ever stop to think you’re bringing this on yourself?”

“You ever stop to think most women in the world are mercenary?”

Charlotte wasn’t sure how to answer that. He was probably right. At least, he was probably right about the women he’d been hanging out with most of his life.

“Not all women are interested in your money.”

The waiter stopped at their table, placing clear mugs of espresso on little blue saucers. He added a tray of sugared and chocolate-drizzled pastries in the center of the table.

The aromas hit Charlotte, reminding her that she was hungry. She pushed her arms into the sleeves of Alec’s jacket and reached for a tiny cream-filled, cherry-topped morsel.

“These,” she told him, “you can buy me any old time.”

“That’s the secret?” He chose a sugared croissant.

She nodded enthusiastically. “Pander to my sweet tooth, and I’m yours for life.”

Something flickered in the depths of his brown eyes, and she instantly regretted her choice of words. They might have moved past one-night stand, but they hadn’t gone anywhere beyond a fling. She was fine with that, and she didn’t want Alec to worry that she had any other expectations.

She wondered if she should explain. Or would protesting just make things worse?

He considered her for a second longer. “Good to know,” he said simply.

“Of course,” she put into the silence, waving her pastry, “the downside is, I won’t fit into the clothes for much longer.”

He smiled. “I’m not worried. Your derriere’s a little on the skinny side, anyway.”

“Are you serious?” She twisted to look at her backside. She exercised quite extensively to keep her derriere fitting into designer clothes.

Alec laughed. “There’s nothing wrong with a curve or two.”

“Don’t let Lesley Manichatio hear you say that.”

“I already told her.”

“Right.”

He shrugged.

“You actually know Lesley Manichatio?”

“We carry her brands at Esmee ETA.”

“Wait a minute.” Charlotte set her pastry on the edge of her plate, wiping her hands on a paper napkin. “You own Esmee ETA?”

“Yes.”

“The stores? The chain?”

“Uh-huh.” He nodded.

“Alec?”

“Yes?”

“You really are a catch.”

“You want to rethink the river cruise?”

“Not on your life.”

He grinned. “At least eat your pastry.”

She picked it up again.

No wonder the man was paranoid. How would he ever know if a woman fell in love with him or his money? He could write a prenup, sure. But he’d still never know. A woman could fake love for a very long time if Alec was paying the bills.

Seven

The sun slipped below the horizon, and Alec watched the lights come on up and down the Tiber River. He was in no hurry to leave the café. He didn’t want to share Charlotte with Raine or anyone else just yet.

Over her empty coffee cup, she sighed at the sight. “It really is beautiful, isn’t it?”

Alec reached for her hand, smoothing his thumb over her soft knuckles, moving to her palm. “Let me take you on a cruise.”

She gave him a pained, wistful look.

“Don’t fixate on the cost,” he whispered. Then he raised her hand to his lips, turning it over to place a soft kiss on the inside of her wrist. “I want to get you alone, and I can’t think of anywhere more alone than in a boat on the river.”

Her glance slid to the marina below, and Alec knew he had her. He seized the opportunity, signaling the waiter. “Do you have a number for the marina?” he asked.

The man nodded and withdrew.

“I didn’t say yes,” Charlotte pointed out.

“Not with your lips,” Alec agreed. “But you said yes with your eyes.”

“That’s a stretch.”

He shook his head. “I’ve been reading women’s eyes for many long years.”

“Bragging?”

“Merely supporting my position.”

The waiter returned with the number written on a small piece of paper, and Alec retrieved his cell phone. He made a quick call, arranged for a yacht and crew, then flipped the phone shut.

He stood from his chair and came around to hers. “We have to eat dinner somewhere,” he told her.

“It’s a dinner cruise?”

“It’s whatever we want it to be.”

The only available boat, the Florence Maiden, was ninety-five feet from bow to stern. She had a chef, a fully stocked galley, three luxury staterooms, a formal dining room, a hot tub on the aft deck and five crew members to ensure the entire evening ran smoothly.

Charlotte drew a deep breath. “I guess a girl’s got to eat.”

Alec held out his hand, helping her to her feet. “That’s the spirit.”

He kept her hand as they made their way down several staircases to the marina gate. There, he gave his name to a uniformed security guard.

“Berth 27B,” the man informed him. “Enjoy your evening.”

Still wearing his jacket, Charlotte slipped her arm into his as they moved onto the bobbing dock. It was full dark now, and the lights of Castle St. Angelo seemed even brighter across the river.

Alec noted a sign on the wharf and pointed to their left. “This way.”

Charlotte turned, and they started past several dozen gleaming-white yachts berthed nose-in. “Tell me it’s not the one on the end.”