Donna guided Blackwell back through the alley and toward the hotel. His face went white when he saw the outside. She knew she’d paid for a budget hotel, but he didn’t have to be a snob. She pointed to the door and he asked, “This was your hotel?”

“Yes. It was a good price and close to things I wanted to see.” They walked inside.

She asked for her bag and he kept quiet until the bellhop brought it out. He immediately tipped the man and took the bag for her.

As they walked back into the alley, he said, “This wasn’t the place for you, Donna.”

She looked over her shoulder. The worst part about the lobby had been the cigarette stench. She took his arm. “It smells, but I’d hoped the rooms were clean.”

He lifted her bag and urged her to walk faster. “Come. Let’s hope everything you packed is still inside.”

As they passed the small souvenir shop, she asked, “Why wouldn’t it be?”

He took a deep breath once they made it to the main road. “You’re trusting. It’s part of your charm.”

Trusting wasn’t a bad thing, was it? Sure, the hotel needed a good sprucing up but she hadn’t gone beyond the lobby. There was hope that the rooms would be fair value for the cost.

As they walked back toward the Grand Canal, she asked, “How did you get here, to Venice?”

He guided her to a much nicer part of town. “I drove. The roads can be faster than the train because it makes so many stops. We’ll take my car to Firenze, that’s what Italians call Florence.”

A drive would be great. However, he didn’t need to judge her as they passed Cartier. “Well, I was trying to budget.”

He turned the corner with her, taking long strides in jeans and a t-shirt that were casual, yes, but still designer. “Budgeting is important to you?”

For someone raised in America, she felt they were miles apart on reality. She blinked. “It’s important to most people. You must have realized that growing up in Colorado.”

He lowered his head as he guided her further down the posh street next to the canal. “We still own the farm there. The truth is my parents always had money. I never questioned how they had it or why.”

“Family money.” She tried to imagine what her and her grandmother’s life would have been like if her parents’ life insurance had been slightly bigger, but she couldn’t picture anything. Her grandmother never needed anything, and neither had she.

Blackwell had no idea her thoughts as he said, “My heritage goes back in Avce to about 600 AD when some ancestor helped the king befriend the crusaders on their way and then sold goods they might need.”

Her eyes widened. She couldn’t name her family past her great-grandparents. Having his lineage would be so interesting! It would be nice to know where she came from. “That was a long time.”

He guided her through a crowd. “He, like many of my relatives, was good with numbers.”

“Are you good too?” They maneuvered through people all milling around the street.

He nodded and walked closer to the building. “Decent.”

His face blended in well here. His olive skin must come from the ancient Roman history of his country. She blinked and wondered what he thought of her looks, though she’d never ask. “That sounds modest-”

He interrupted her and opened the glass doors to a building that could double as a small palace. “This is the hotel. If you need anything to freshen up or if you lost anything in your bag, just call the front desk. We’ll get it replaced.”

“Sounds good.” She followed him and the clean smell of lemon was the only scent she detected in the lobby.

He walked toward the front desk and was taken right away to sign in. With barely a word, he signed papers and was given a key.

She looked up at the huge crystal chandelier that reflected against the pale yellow walls with murals of Venice life hand-painted on top. The feeling of opulence met with warmth. As he turned toward her and placed his hand on her back, she said, “Wow, this place must cost a fortune.”

He made a sound like that didn’t matter and directed them toward the elevator. “It’s safe, clean, offers a good breakfast, and is near all the sites on your list.” They went to the top floor and the doors opened. Then he glanced at her jeans and said, “If you change into a knee length skirt or longer, we can go to St. Mark’s next, before we get dinner.”

“Why the skirt?”

“Our Churches are more traditional here than in America. If you want to see St, Mark’s on your list, we both have to change.”

“Oh. Okay.” When in Venice, she thought, do as the Venetians do.

He used his key and opened the only door on the floor. She held her breath, unsure she’d ever seen a penthouse even on TV. As she walked inside behind him and her bag, her eyes widened. The decor was similar to the lobby, but the furniture seemed hand-carved. No machine could make the flowers that spiraled up the table legs. She traced the hardwood table and stared out the huge window that overlooked the Grand Canal.

This wasn’t her world. Truly a city that was a mix of old and new, and gorgeous in the evening lights. She hugged her waist and turned toward him. “Blackwell, I’m serious, when I ask this. Why me? And this time don’t flirt. We’re not from the same background.”

He sat on the bed that had a string of gold vines wrapped around the bed frame. “My entire life has been planned out for me. I must marry next month.”

So he did have someone else. Maybe because of her novels and stories, she never saw the appeal of being the other woman. Her skin chilled as she turned her head. “I’m sure she must be lovely.”

“There is no one but you, Donna.” He patted the bed beside him.

She glanced into his brown eyes and felt he was in earnest. She went beside him. “You must marry?”

His hand went over hers but otherwise he didn’t move. “Or I lose the estate my family had for over a millennia. I will marry a total stranger, if I must.”

The name of the woman must have already been chosen. Harry might have been a bad choice, but she only had herself to blame. If she’d been forced to marry anyone, she’d be miserable. She kept her head down, but she didn’t move. His closeness warmed her. “So this trip is your last hurrah too.”

He reached up and lifted her chin and gave her that sexy smile of his that showed off those dimples. “How is this your end? I thought you were finding yourself.”

She laughed. True. This was about figuring out what she wanted in her life. She definitely didn’t want to be forced into marriage, but that wasn’t exactly knowing herself. She tried to explain. “I’ve always been good at doing what I’m told.” Blackwell looked surprised, but she swallowed and continued. “I never questioned anything. And I never lived, not really. I’ve always been a rules follower and a good girl who never even tried to be edgy. I had to get a job, figure out how to pay for college, take care of Grandma until she died.”

He traced her arm with a seductive fingertip. “The woman in my arms last night was daring.”

With Blackwell, she’d felt comfortable enough to be slightly out of her element. She laughed a little. “I don’t know if I’m really just all screwed up in the head. I told you my fiancé left me. So when the library shut down, I was frozen. I never made a choice in my life without thinking about what was best. So this trip is about putting myself first.”

She closed her eyes and wiggled closer, hoping for a kiss. However, a knock sounded at the door, interrupting the moment. “Who could that be?”

He scooted off the bed and went to let room service in. A chilled bottle of wine, cheeses, grapes and other finger-foods were pushed inside on a cart. “Our champagne, for when we return. Come, let’s get you to St. Mark’s Church so you can supposedly see the burial site of one of the writers of the Bible.”

He tipped the waiter and showed him to the door. She opened her bag and fished out her black work skirt that would do for going to church and stripped off her black t-shirt and found a black button down. “That’s something a bridegroom might say.”

He changed into a white button-down shirt that only made his dark features more prominent and hotter. He had no idea her thoughts as he said, “This is the place where in the 10^th century the Archdiocese claimed to have found/stolen the body of the man who wrote the bible and brought his remains here, to Venice.”

Donna was used to showing people how to find specific books with information, so she appreciated his history lesson. She changed and fluffed her hair. “Blackwell, I’m glad you were honest with me, about needing to get married.”

He stared at her with slight confusion but shrugged. “Good, now let’s get going. I’m looking forward to dinner, with you on my arm and this time, we’ll eat well. Now that I saw your list, I want to make every one of your dreams come true.”

That’s right. Good food and sightseeing was what she wanted on that list. She needed to review it again, but for now, she took Blackwell’s arm and felt a tremble race down her body.

Part of her wished she could do this for the rest of her life, but she knew she wished for the impossible. It was better to memorize every moment. Tonight, after dinner, she’d sleep beside him again and this time, not run in the morning.