Best Of Nora Roberts Books 1-6. Nora Roberts
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close, managed to have the bags installed in the trunk within seven minutes. Carlo knew because it amused him to time her.
“You, too, can sleep all the way to Portland.”
She settled in beside him again. “No, I’ve got some work to do. The nice thing about planes is that I can pretend I’m in my office and forget I’m thousands of feet off the ground.”
“I didn’t realize flying bothered you.”
“Only when I’m in the air.” Juliet sat back and closed her eyes, thinking to relax for a moment. The next thing she knew, she was being kissed awake.
Disoriented, she sighed and wrapped her arms around Carlo’s neck. It was soothing, so sweet. And then the heat began to rise.
“Cara.” She’d surprised him, but that had brought its own kind of pleasure. “Such a pity to wake you.”
“Hmm?” When she opened her eyes, his face was close, her mouth still warm, her heart still thudding. She jerked back and fumbled with the door handle. “That was uncalled for.”
“True enough.” Leisurely, Carlo stepped out into the rain. “But it was illuminating. I’ve already paid the driver, Juliet,” he continued when she started to dig into her purse. “The baggage is checked. We board from gate five.” Taking her arm, and his big leather case, he led her into the terminal.
“You didn’t have to take care of all that.” She’d have pulled her arm away if she’d had the energy. Or so she told herself. “The reason I’m here is to—”
“Promote my book,” he finished easily. “If it makes you feel better, I’ve been known to do the same when I traveled with your predecessor.”
The very fact that it did, made her feel foolish as well. “I appreciate it, Carlo. It’s not that I mind you lending a hand, it’s that I’m not used to it. You’d be surprised how many authors are either helpless or careless on the road.”
“You’d be surprised how many chefs are temperamental and rude.”
She thought of the basil and grinned. “No!”
“Oh, yes.” And though he’d read her thoughts perfectly, his tone remained grave. “Always flying off the handle, swearing, throwing things. It leads to a bad reputation for all of us. Here, they’re boarding. If only they have a decent Bordeaux.”
Juliet stifled a yawn as she followed him through. “I’ll need my boarding pass, Carlo.”
“I have it.” He flashed them both for the flight attendant and nudged Juliet ahead. “Do you want the window or the aisle?”
“I need my pass to see which I’ve got.”
“We have 2A and B. Take your pick.”
Someone pushed past her and bumped her solidly. It brought a sinking sensation of déjà vu. “Carlo, I’m in coach, so—”
“No, your tickets are changed. Take the window.”
Before she could object, he’d maneuvered her over and slipped in beside her. “What do you mean my ticket’s been changed? Carlo, I have to get in the back before I cause a scene.”
“Your seat’s here.” After handing Juliet her boarding pass he stretched out his legs. “Dio, what a relief.”
Frowning, Juliet studied her stub—2A. “I don’t know how they could’ve made a mistake like this. I’d better see to it right away.”
“There’s no mistake. You should fasten your belt,” he advised, then did so himself. “I changed your tickets for the remaining flights on the tour.”
Juliet reached to undo the clasp he’d just secured. “You—but you can’t.”
“I told you, don’t say can’t to Franconi.” Satisfied with her belt, he dealt with his own. “You work as hard as I do—why should you travel in tourist?”
“Because I’m paid to work. Carlo, let me out so I can fix this before we take off.”
“No.” For the first time, his voice was blunt and final. “I prefer your company to that of a stranger or an empty seat.” When he turned his head, his eyes were like his voice. “I want you here. Leave it.”
Juliet opened her mouth and closed it again. Professionally, she was on shaky ground either direction she went. She was supposed to see to his needs and wants within reason. Personally, she’d counted on the distance, at least during flight time, to keep her balanced. With Carlo, even a little distance could help.
He was being kind, she knew. Considerate. But he was also being stubborn. There was always a diplomatic way to handle such things.
She gave him a patient smile. “Carlo—”
He stopped her by simply closing his mouth over hers, quietly, completely and irresistibly. He held her there a moment, one hand on her cheek, the other over the fingers which had frozen in her lap. Juliet felt the floor tilt and her head go light.
We’re taking off, she thought dimly, but knew the plane hadn’t left the ground.
His tongue touched hers briefly, teasingly; then it was only his lips again. After brushing a hand through her hair, he leaned back. “Now, go back to sleep awhile,” he advised. “This isn’t the place I’d choose to seduce you.”
Sometimes, Juliet decided, silence was the best diplomacy. Without another word, she closed her eyes and slept.
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