She’s probably great.”

Marco looked at Payton, eyes narrowed appraisingly. “That means you don’t like her. You don’t think she’s right for the job.”

“Okay, I don’t know that she’s right for fragrance. Fragrance is competitive.”

“So where would you put her? Textiles? Home furnishings?”

“Accessories. She likes elegance and classic lines. Your leather collection is definitely classic. Shoes, purses, belts.”

The lights of the city were coming on and slowly Milan began to sparkle. Marco took an exit, shifted down heading toward the city’s historic center and Marco’s town house near the fashion district.

“I don’t think I’ll tell Maria your suggestion,” he said, smiling wryly as he navigated the narrow streets, still congested with traffic as commuters made their way home. “She thinks accessories are dull.”

“Purses make design houses a fortune.”

Marco laughed softly. “You’re getting smart.”

“I’ve always been smart,” she flashed back, still buoyed by the day’s success. “I just happen to be wiser now.”

“Whatever it is, I like it. It suits you.” Marco pulled to the side of the road and parked. “Neither of us had lunch. I’m sure you’re starving. Let’s grab a quick bite to eat.”

At the restaurant Payton excused herself to use the ladies’ room and wash up, and Marco watched her walk away. He saw, too, how nearly every head in the restaurant turned to watch her pass.

Payton had a certain magic. She was beautiful, yes, but it wasn’t merely her prettiness that caught people’s attention. It was her energy. The light in her eyes. The way she seemed to sparkle.

She sparkled tonight.

Payton returned to the table, and he stood up to seat her.

“Have you ever thought about moving back to Milan?” he asked her, signaling to the wine steward to fill their glasses.

“Move back?”

He nodded. “You’d have no problem finding work.”

“That’s not the issue.”

“In fact, I’d be open to discussing having you return to d’Angelo.”

“Marco.” He looked up and she shook her head. “That’s not going to happen.”

“I don’t want to lose them,” he said abruptly, referring to their daughters. “There has to be a better way to do this, Payton. A better way for us to share responsibility.”

“You mean custody?”

“Yes. Exactly. I want more than holidays. I want to be their father, not a stranger.”

She swallowed with difficulty. This is what she wanted for the children, too. This is why she’d come here with them, but it terrified her, the prospect of spending less time with them. “Maybe the girls can spend the next couple weeks here—”

“And then take them away from me again? No.