"I cannot but agree," Margo said when he had run down.
"If you had called my offices, the studio, they would have gotten word to me.
I would have swept down on my winged charger and saved you."
She could picture it. Claudio was one of the few men who wouldn't look foolish on a winged charger. "I saved myself, but thanks."
"You lost Bella Donna. I'm sorry for it."
"So was I. But now I have this."
His head angled, his mouth quirked. "A shopkeeper, Margo mia."
"A shopkeeper, Claudio."
"Come." He took her hand again, and though his voice was teasing, his eyes were serious. "Let me whisk you away from this. To Roma, with me. I have a new project to begin in a few months. There's a part perfect for you, cara. She's strong, sexy, glamorous. Heartless."
She laughed delightedly. "Claudio, you flatter me. Six months ago I'd have snapped it up, without worrying that I'm not an actress. Now I have a business."
"So, let someone else see to it. Come with me. I'll take care of you." He reached out, toyed with her hair, but his eyes were serious. "We'll have that affair we always meant to have."
"We never got around to that, did we? That's why we still like each other. No, Claudio, though I am very, very touched and very, very grateful."
"I don't understand you." He began to prowl again. "You weren't meant to make change and box trinkets. This is not the—Dio! These are your dishes." He stopped at a shelf and gawked. "You have served me pasta on these plates."
"Good eye," she murmured.
That eye was dazed as he turned back, began to recognize other things he had admired as a guest in her home in Milan. "I thought it was a joke, a poor one, that you were selling your possessions. Margo, it should not have come to this."
"You make it sound as though I'm living out of a shopping cart in an alley."
"It's humiliating," he said between his teeth.
"No, it's not." She bristled, then calmed herself. He was only thinking of her. Or the woman he had known. She, Margo realized, would have been humiliated. "It's not. I thought it would be, but I was wrong. Do you want to know what it is, Claudio?"
He swore again, ripely, and gave serious thought to hauling her over his shoulder and carrying her off. "Yes, I want to know what it is."
She came close to him, until they were eye to eye. "It's fun."
He nearly choked. "Fun?"
"Great, wonderful, giddy fun. And do you know what else? I'm good at it. Really good at it."
"You mean this? You're content?"
"No, I'm not content. I'm happy. It's mine. I sanded the floors. I painted the walls."
He paled a little, pressed a hand to his chest. "Please, my heart."
"I scrubbed the bathrooms." She laughed and gave him a bracing kiss. "And I loved it."
He tried to nod, but couldn't quite pull it off. "I'd have some more wine, if you please."
"All right, but then you have to browse." She filled his glass and her own before tucking her arm through his. "And while we're browsing, I'll tell you what you can do for me."
"Anything."
"You know a lot of people." Her mind was working quickly as she led him toward the stairs. "People who grow tired of last year's fashions or the trinkets they bought. You could give them my name. I'd like first shot at the discards."