How are you?”

“Bene. And how are you?”

Her lips curved a little and yet she was determined not to smile. “Non male,” she answered, eyes glinting.

Not bad. Marco checked his smile. She would be a handful one day. Beautiful and high-spirited. Just like her mother. And suddenly he was turning, looking for Payton, wanting to see her.

Payton was there behind the girls, half-hiding in the stairwell. “I’m sorry to interrupt,” she said, moving forward and placing a hand on Gia’s dark head. “The girls were anxious to see where you worked, and it’s a beautiful morning for a walk.”

She looked sexy, stylish, dressed in a black mock turtleneck with three-quarter sleeves and an orange and cream striped skirt that reminded him of an American Popsicle. She was wearing black heels—high pumps—and her long curls had been pulled back in a low, smooth ponytail.

“You walked in those shoes?” he asked in disbelief.

She smiled. “Partway. And then we called a cab.”

“I should think so.” He liked the bold colors and strong graphics on her. The intense colors might overwhelm someone else, but the look suited Payton. She had the bone structure for it, not to mention the attitude.

“You look Italian,” he said, moving forward to kiss Payton on each cheek. She smiled faintly and he saw a dimple flutter near her mouth. She smelled even better than she looked and her cheek had been satin smooth.

“Thank you.” Her smile widened, her blue eyes sparking with amusement. “My design. Last Fall’s collection.”

“Very nice.” He liked the flash of dimple yet again, and the wry twist of her lips. He also liked the way he remembered her fragrance, the soft but distinctive scent lingering in his mind. What was the top note? Licorice? Anise? “But did it sell?”

The blue of her eyes deepened. “Couldn’t keep it in the stores.”

“Horizontal stripes aren’t supposed to be flattering.”

Payton almost laughed out loud. “It’s not a problem if you alternate the width of the stripes.” He was teasing her, playing with her and she was surprised by how much she enjoyed it. He used to be so serious with her. That one night at the opera, that first night, he’d been light, engaging, but after that he changed.

“We should go,” she said, conscious that everyone in the room was watching them, listening in. In fact, one of the cameramen was filming. “We’re keeping you.”

“Actually, you’re fine. We’ve just wrapped up here. I was going to head across town in a few minutes to check on an ad.”

“An ad?” Gia piped up, interest piqued.

“An advertisement for a magazine,” he explained.

“Can we see the ad?” Liv asked, patting him on the chest. “Can we, please?”

“I don’t see why not. But it’s up to your mother.” He turned back to Payton. “Would you like to come along? You’re welcome to join me, although I have to warn you, it’s a problem shoot.