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“I should run and get her food bowl.”

“No need. I’m sure Maria won’t mind getting some food.”

Jules glanced around, spotting the litter box in the corner of the room. “And water. I forgot the water.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll be fine together.”

“Are you sure?”

Massimo sent her a reassuring smile. “Go before you’re late for your appointment. Did you say this was the last fitting?”

She nodded. “We’re taking our dresses home today. Well, I guess I’m bringing both dresses here as Lizzie doesn’t want to take any chance on Dante spotting it.”

“All the more reason for me to drive you,” Stefano piped in. “The dresses would get wrinkled on the train or worse.”

He did have a good point. “Then we best get going.”

This was going to be the longest ride of her life. There was tangible tension between them, and she didn’t know how to get around it. She didn’t even know if she wanted to resolve it. After all, she hadn’t started any of this. It was Stefano. One minute he wanted her, and the next he was shoving her away and spouting out every reason why they shouldn’t be together.

If he thought she was the only one who didn’t know what she wanted, then he should take a good look in the mirror. His mouth said one thing. But his body said another.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

WHAT WAS TAKING SO LONG?

Stefano sat alone in the front of the bridal boutique. The oval table in front of him was littered with every bridal magazine published. No matter how bored he was, there was no way he was picking up one of those periodicals. He’d had his fill of flowers, dresses and cakes.

He glanced at his wristwatch for the second time in five minutes. Jules and Lizzie were supposed to try on their dresses and then they’d be on their way. Not that he was anxious to repeat the car ride with Jules. The whole ride to Rome had been nothing but tense silence. What should he say to her? That he was sorry? That when he was around her he couldn’t think straight? That he cared so much about her that he was trying to protect her from himself?

It was all true. But he couldn’t take back his words. She’d never believe him. And if she did, where would that leave them?

His temples started to throb. Oh, it didn’t matter what he felt for her. Just speaking the words that she meant something to him would only spur her on to stay here, and then what? One day she’d wake and realize that she’d sacrificed everything for him, and then she’d leave. She’d go off to follow her dreams.

It was best to let her go now before they got in too deep. He knew that she cared for him, but it wasn’t as if they’d made promises to each other. The exit door was still wide-open for both of them. By giving her a healthy shove through it, he was doing her a big favor. She may not realize it now, but in time she would understand.

She’d return to her life in New York—to grad school—and she’d soon forget about him. His gut churned. With her beauty, she could have her choice of men.

At last, the women stepped into the waiting area. Each was carrying a white zippered garment bag. They were chatting back and forth. Neither even seemed to notice him. He didn’t know why it should bother him. He was, after all, just the chauffeur. And this was what he wanted—Jules to forget about him—wasn’t it?

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, not sure if they were leaving or if there was more that needed to be done. When Lizzie’s phone buzzed, she held up a finger to Jules to wait a moment.

Jules glanced over at him. When she didn’t move, he did. He strode over and held out his hand. “Let me take that for you.”

She didn’t say a word as she handed over the dress. Once she’d adjusted it so that it wouldn’t wrinkle, she turned and picked up a bridal magazine. As though he wasn’t even in the room, she thumbed through the glossy pages.

He’d been privy to all the other stuff for the wedding except the dresses. He had to admit he was really curious to see what Jules would be wearing. Would it be purple like the paper flowers he’d helped her make? Or would it be another color? Was it short, showing off her legs? Or was it longer on the bottom with the top scaled back and showing off her bare shoulders and that butterfly on her chest?

He cut off his thoughts. They were only going to get him in trouble. What Jules wore to the wedding made no difference to him. He inwardly groaned, wishing that were the case.

“Are you ready to go?” He hoped so. The tension was starting to give him a headache.

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