Lessons Learned

dig beneath to find inner beauty. It was something that made life interesting as well as aesthetically pleasing.
    Still, as he stepped off the plane into the terminal in L.A., he had his hand on the elbow of a stunning redhead.
    Juliet did know what he looked like, and she first saw him, shoulder to shoulder with a luxuriously built woman in pencil-thin heels. Though he carried a bulky leather case in one hand, and a flight bag over his shoulder, he escorted the redheadthrough the gate as though they were walking into a ballroom. Or a bedroom.
    Juliet took a quick assessment of the well-tailored slacks, the unstructured jacket and open-collared shirt. The well-heeled traveler. There was a chunk of gold and diamond on his finger that should’ve looked ostentatious and vulgar. Somehow it looked as casual and breezy as the rest of him. She felt formal and sticky.
    She’d been in L.A. since the evening before, giving herself time to see personally to all the tiny details. Carlo Franconi would have nothing to do but be charming, answer questions and sign his cookbook.
    As she watched him kiss the redhead’s knuckles, Juliet thought he’d be signing plenty of them. After all, didn’t women do the majority of cookbook buying? Carefully smoothing away a sarcastic smirk, Juliet rose. The redhead was sending one last wistful look over her shoulder as she walked away.
    “Mr. Franconi?”
    Carlo turned away from the woman who’d proven to be a pleasant traveling companion on the long flight from New York. His first look at Juliet brought a quick flutter of interest and a subtle tug of desire he often felt with a woman. It was a tug he could either control or let loose, as was appropriate. This time, he savored it.
    She didn’t have merely a lovely face, but an interesting one. Her skin was very pale, which should have made her seem fragile, but the wide, strong cheekbones undid the air of fragility and gave her face an intriguing diamond shape. Her eyes were large, heavily lashed and artfully accented with a smokyshadow that only made the cool green shade of the irises seem cooler. Her mouth was only lightly touched with a peach-colored gloss. It had a full, eye-drawing shape that needed no artifice. He gathered she was wise enough to know it.
    Her hair was caught somewhere between brown and blond so that its shade was soft, natural and subtle. She wore it long enough in the back to be pinned up in a chignon when she wished, and short enough on the top and sides so that she could style it from fussy to practical as the occasion, and her whim, demanded. At the moment, it was loose and casual, but not windblown. She’d stopped in the ladies’ room for a quick check just after the incoming flight had been announced.
    “I’m Juliet Trent,” she told him when she felt he’d stared long enough. “Welcome to California.” As he took the hand she offered, she realized she should’ve expected him to kiss it rather than shake. Still, she stiffened, hardly more than an instant, but she saw by the lift of brow, he’d felt it.
    “A beautiful woman makes a man welcome anywhere.”
    His voice was incredible—the cream that rose to the top and then flowed over something rich. She told herself it only pleased her because it would record well and took his statement literally. Thinking of the redhead, she gave him an easy, not entirely friendly smile. “Then you must have had a pleasant flight.”
    His native language might have been Italian, but Carlo understood nuances in any tongue. He grinned at her. “Very pleasant.”
    “And tiring,” she said remembering her position. “Your luggage should be in by now.” Again, she glanced at the large case he carried. “Can I take that for you?”
    His brow lifted at the idea of a man dumping his burden on a woman. Equality, to Carlo, never crossed the border into manners. “No, this is something I always carry myself.”
    Indicating the way, she fell into step beside him. “It’s a half-hour ride to the Beverly Wilshire, but after you’ve settled in, you can rest all afternoon. I’d like to go over tomorrow’s schedule with you this evening.”
    He liked the way she walked. Though she wasn’t tall, she moved in long, unhurried strides that made the red side-pleated skirt she wore shift over her hips. “Over dinner?”
    She sent him a quick sidelong look. “If you like.”
    She’d be at his disposal, Juliet reminded herself, for the next three weeks. Without appearing