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strutting around in that room there.” He stepped around the table and drew her close enough that she could smell the distant echo of his cologne and feel the heat of his body drifting out to entrap her. “Because I want to be seen with you.”
    How confident he was; how disturbingly attractive! Under different circumstances…oh, what was she thinking! “Mr. An—”
    “Paolo,” He stroked her wrist, and then the palm of her hand in slow, tantalizing circles. “This is the 21st century, and Jane Austen’s been dead a very long time. Couples today don’t stand on foolish ceremony. They make their desires plainly known.”
    Well, he certainly did! If reducing her to melting acquiescence with his touch was his intention, he succeeded in a disgracefully short time. Her breathing raced as fast as her galloping pulse. As for ‘caution,’ it might just as well have been a foreign word past her understanding!
    “Come with me, Charlotte,” he cajoled. “Make this a memorable evening in more ways than one and teach that miserable wretch the lesson he deserves.”
    “Yes,” she said, not because she cared one iota about John Weatherby, but because she couldn’t say no to Paolo Angelli.
    He squeezed her hand, tipped her face up to his, and kissed her full on the mouth. Not aggressively. Not with arrogant intimacy, as if, because he’d come to her rescue, he had the right to take liberties. His lips were cool and dry, their touch firm but brief. Still the effect sent a delicious shock of electricity shooting through her blood.
    “Just a little rehearsal before we go on stage,” he said, lifting his head and smiling down at her.
    “Um…” she mumbled, pressing her lips together to hold on to the taste of him. There’d been stars in the sky all evening long. When had they fallen down to blind her with their brilliance and addle her brain? When had she lost the power to articulate clearly and sanely?
    He tucked her hand in the crook of his arm and caught her fingers in his. “My feelings, exactly, cara,” he said, leading her toward the balcony doors. “Some emotions defy the words and speak directly to the heart.”

Chapter Five
    Now that the live music had started, the party had really come to life, making it possible for Charlotte and Paolo to slip into the crowd unnoticed. Without asking, he drew her into his arms and onto the dance floor.
    “The Duncans might not like this,” she muttered, glancing around nervously. “I’m here to work, after all.”
    “They will like,” he assured her, “not only because Gerald Duncan is anxious to enlist my support in his latest venture and will do nothing to displease me, but because you’ve exceeded all their expectations and made this the perfect evening for their daughter.”
    Sensing she wasn’t entirely convinced, he again tipped up her chin. “Listen to me, cara. I’m no Weatherby. I don’t lie in order to win a woman’s heart.”
    She heard candor and integrity in his voice. It gave her the courage to ask, “Is that what you’re trying to do, Paolo? Win my heart?”
    His hand slipped to the small of her back and urged her closer. “Most certainly.”
    “I’m not sure I’m ready to give it quite yet.”
    “I’m a patient man, Charlotte, and prepared to spend however long it takes to persuade you that my intentions are honorable.”
    “How can you be so sure, when we’ve only just met?”
    “We met months ago and the spark ignited left a lasting impression.” His voice dropped a captivating half octave. “That moment of recognition did not die, cara. It rekindled itself tonight.”
    “Still,” she said, struggling to step warily through the minefield of his persuasion, “we’re starting out afresh now.”
    He shrugged. “Of course. How else does a great romance start, but at the beginning?”
    She sighed. “You make it all sound so reasonable, I half believe you. If it weren’t for the way John—”
    Unmindful of the fact that they