Blackwell memorized Donna’s silhouette while she was in the bathroom, ironing a simple shirt for the day ahead. She was comfortable in her plain white bra that she’d probably bought at one of the huge chain stores. Most of the women he’d met in Europe wouldn’t dream of wearing anything like that, but on Donna, simple looked sexy.

She glanced over her shoulder so he cleared his throat, turned his head and pretended he hadn’t been studying her chest. “After the Doge’s palace, ice cream, Gallerie dell'Accademia, and an early dinner, I was thinking we could drive to Firenze this evening.”

She buttoned her shirt and put the iron away. “Sounds amazing, Blackwell. I was wondering, did you ever get a nickname as a kid in school or did everyone always call you Blackwell?”

He stood and stopped her from putting the ironing board away. Staff would take care of that when they left. He kissed her neck. “My teacher in first grade called me Trouble with a Capital T.”

“What did you do?” She finished buttoning her shirt and tucked it into her jeans.

His skin felt rough against her smoothness, but she held him close as if she liked it. “Anything but what she told me to do.”

She ran her hand in his thick, coarse hair. “I can see that being a problem. Do you still have an issue about doing what you’re told?”

He traced the white bra strap beneath her shirt. “Depends. If you tell me you want something, I’ll happily comply.”

She turned and hugged his shoulder. “Flirting every day must get tiring, but I appreciate it.” She stepped back and buttoned her pants. “I’m going to wear my jeans today if that’s okay?”

He laughed. With her it could be the last time someone accepted that he wore his own jeans without comment, but he massaged her back and fingered the edge of her bra, wanting her out of the shirt. “So long as you show me those sexy legs of yours later. You’re beautiful and I want to memorize every feature.”

She lightly ruffled his hair. “Relentless flirting. We’ll see what the day unfolds, shall we?”

Was that a challenge? He winked. “I will charm you back to bed before dinner, but for now, let’s get going.”

He threw his clothes on, cleaned himself up and was done in less than five minutes. Donna’s clean face with her lack of makeup made her kissable all day and he intended to taste her when she didn’t expect.

He offered his hand as they walked out of the hotel and down the stairs. Outside, Donna took a deep breath and said, “The Grand Canal is beautiful.”

They walked together arm-in-arm through Venice in the morning light. As they passed the water view of the Bridge of Sighs, she stopped, leaned her head on his chest and took in the view.

Behind them a male voice called out, “Donna?”

She stood straight and dropped his hand. Her face was red as she said, “Harry? What are you doing here?”

Blackwell’s chest pounded and he puffed it out while the other man kissed both of Donna’s cheeks. “I’m here for work and heading to Florence this afternoon. Why are you here? You never expressed an interest in coming with me?”

Donna turned brighter red.

Blackwell refused to let this man interfere in their vacation and he stepped forward, holding out his hand to shake. “So, you’re Harry?”

The man was a foot shorter than him, thin, with light brown hair streaked with blond and squirrely blue eyes. He stared at him like he was no one important. “And you are?”

Right. He blocked Donna with his shoulder from view as he shook the man’s hand. “Blackwell Oberlin, the Duke of Oakley.”

Normally he never used his title, but for Harry, he made an exception. Donna was his now.

Soft hands shook his in a weak greeting then Harry started in surprise. “You’re a major shareholder in Berkshire Hathaway, Inc.”

Anyone who read investment magazines would know that. Blackwell shrugged and placed his hand on Donna’s lower back. “I invest my money where I can make more money. Right now, Donna and I have a showing we cannot miss.”

Harry’s eyes were round as tea saucers as he nodded his goodbye. “Donna, you look good.”

She held up a hand and waved. “Thanks, Harry. See you around.”

The moment they walked away, Blackwell said, “So that was your Harry.”

Her face stayed more pinkish than normal, but it wasn’t as red. She lowered her gaze and continued to walk down the Grand Canal with him. “He’s not mine, not anymore. He flew out for business once a month for a few days but he never asked me to go with him. I always wanted to go to these places he talked about. I received the impression that I wasn’t welcome.”

Outside the corner of the Doge’s palace, Blackwell felt his own body tense as he absorbed her words. He let her go and asked, “So your list is all the places you wanted to go with Harry?”

Her face paled. “That sounds really bad.”

“You don’t deny it.” He crossed his arms.

She shook her head but couldn’t look him in the eye. “I never thought about it.”

Perhaps she was still in love with Harry and that was why she was finding herself. The idea of being Harry’s replacement made his stomach feel sour. He reached for her arm to link in his and stared at the door ahead. “Let’s not discuss it.”

She didn’t take his hand, but stood in front of him with her legs slightly apart. “No, wait. Maybe he triggered me writing the list, but I grew up reading books in the library as my escape, especially after my parents died. The books I read were often set in various European settings. The philosophers I liked were always European.”

If so, she could have dropped the conversation. Part of him wondered if he was onto something and she still wanted Harry back. He put his hands in his pockets. “Who were these philosophers?”

Her eyebrows arched. “Aristotle-”

“He’s Greek,” he interrupted and shook his head. “Greece wasn’t on your list.”

She stepped closer and brushed her hands against his upper arms. “Voltaire. He’s Italian. John Locke, he’s English and you introduced me to English royalty. I was so grateful.”

She smelled like vanilla and the sweetest thing in Venice. His heart slowed to its normal pace, and he let out a grunt. “Let’s end this conversation, Donna. It doesn’t make me happy.”

She turned, took his hand in hers and squeezed it a little. “Okay. Let’s just enjoy the Doge’s palace and get that ice cream?”

“Fair enough. This way.” They entered a castle that had circles and white space, and was nothing like the gothic writers from England or the usual dreams of girls he remembered in high school who talked a lot. Here everything was Italian marble and clean. Without a word, he motioned for a guard who opened a red velvet top and he was given access to the unopened areas and guided her inside.

The first room had more gilded gold than he cared for, but Donna scoped the room like she was in awe and her face lit up like she was watching the fourth of July fireworks.

As they walked toward the next room, which he knew was where the king held private audiences, his phone vibrated. He tried to hit ignore, but Donna said, “Your phone is ringing.”

He took his phone from his back pocket and saw the Earl of Paston’s name flash. Perhaps his offer of marriage had been accepted, which wouldn’t be good, not now. He held the phone in his hand. “Please enjoy the next room and I’ll join you in a moment. I need to take this call.”

She kissed his cheek and let him go. “Okay, I’ll miss you.”

Blackwell turned toward the huge bay window. “Hello, sir.”

The older man was the same age his father had been, though he seemed in good health. Blackwell listened and intended to say as little as possible that Donna might overhear. “Oakley, my daughter Chelsea wanted to ask you a few questions before she accepts your offer. Can you talk to her?”

Of course, she had questions. He honestly had no idea what she even looked like. All he knew was her resume and family name. He tugged his ear. “Can I call later? I’m in the middle of something right now.”

Paston muffled the phone but clearly asked her. A minute later, he said, “She said please call her before four today as she is helping to host the Women Voter’s benefit dinner tonight.”

He’d chosen Chelsea for her ability to function as a duchess. Neither man mentioned his older daughter who had no picture or online identity. Part of him wondered why she hadn’t been visible or why her father hadn’t pushed the issue, but he wasn’t invested enough to ask.

Donna’s steps in the next room echoed on the hardwood floor. His heart sped up and he told Paston, “I will call by then. Thank you, sir.”

Paston said, “I’m hoping my daughter becomes your duchess so I can call you my son.”

Ice grew in his veins, and he flinched. “Very good, sir. Goodbye.” He spoke with more force. Donna was probably wondering what was taking so long and he turned toward the door. Blackwell turned his phone off the instant the man said goodbye and walked into the next room.

Donna motioned for him to join her near a statue of a former Doge, who ran Venice for the church for centuries. “Who was that, Blackwell?”

He decided quickly that Donna didn’t need to know about Paston. He’d rather marry her and pay the contract off, if Donna said yes to him. He’d ask her once they made it to Paris as planned but for now, he had to convince her that marriage to him was a good deal. He put both of his hands on her hips and turned her toward him. “Business. I’d rather spend my time with you.”

“So it wasn’t bad news.” She closed her eyes, waiting for his kiss as he came closer.

His lips met hers and he hoped she’d agree. He anticipated sparks from their kisses for the rest of his life—it ended too soon and he guided her toward the next room, a library that had countless hardcover books on religious beliefs and dogmas but the books reached the ceiling in all corners. “It’s the backup plan that I’ll happily pay off, if I get my first choice.”

She stared at him completely blank and smiled. “Oh, well that’s cool.” Her head craned up as she stared at all the books. “There are no numbers to identify the books for organization. This palace is gorgeous. I can’t imagine living in such opulence.”

Unable to keep from touching her, he tugged Donna close and ran his hands up and down her back. She turned him on and he was tempted to throw her against the wall in this room and have her again.

However, she seemed unaffected so he didn’t give in to his passion. She kissed his cheek and turned to hold his hand and continue the tour.

He walked beside her. “I wish I would have brought you to my home while we were in Avce, since you enjoy history so much. If you saw the miniseries, Pride and Prejudice in the 1990s with Colin Firth, my house is kind of like Pemberly—with some ancient Roman styles mixed in.”

She glanced at his profile and inhaled as they passed a marble statue. “I can’t imagine living there either. Everything is different in Florida—history there is only a few hundred years old.”

He knew the layout of the palace and the master suites were next on the tour which would be too much temptation. Blackwell motioned toward the exit. “Let’s go get that ice cream and enjoy each other for the rest of the day.”

“Sounds like a great idea.” She followed him out.

Part of Donna’s charm was her complete innocence, which made him crazy with the need to be inside her. One day soon, he’d ask her very seriously for her hand in marriage and hope she agreed to be his forever.