By the end of their final waltz, Alec had made a decision. He drew Lottie a touch closer than propriety deemed appropriate and lowered his voice. “May I call on you tomorrow morning, before I return to Scotland?”

She beamed up at him. “Of course. Did you think to slip away without saying a proper goodbye?”

Alec grinned. “I could never dream of doing such a thing.”

If there was even the slightest chance she would have him, he was going to marry Lottie Carlisle one day. And no one would stop him.

Chapter Five

Alec awoke to purple dawn breaking across the Tuscan sky and a nasty crick in his neck. He was twenty-eight. Far too old to sleep on a cold stone floor. He sat up with a grunt and rubbed his throbbing shoulder. A bullet had gone clean through the top over two years ago during a skirmish in a Turkish market, and Alec was usually fastidious about the injury, but that simply hadn’t been possible last night. Then his eyes fell on the very reason for his negligence.

Lottie slept peacefully, her hair splayed across the pillows like a lush, russet crown.

He had risked his life countless times over, fought hand-to-hand with men hell-bent on killing him, looked death straight in its black, bloodless eye, and he had always kept his head. But catching just a glimpse of Lottie behind the dressing screen last night, knowing how close he was to her barely clad figure, had strung him tighter than a bow. Hours later and he was still ready to snap. He felt like the favored target of a vengeful, ancient God. Having his heart cut out every night only to awaken and find it whole again.

Alec imagined climbing in beside her and drawing her sleeping form against his chest. He would bury his face against her neck, her hair, her soft skin, and wake his wild maiden slowly with gentle kisses until she gave him a drowsy, knowing smile. Then he would roll her body beneath his own and all her treasures would finally be his.

If only they could stay right here, forever.

Alec pressed his head against his palms and breathed deeply, ridding the fantasy from his mind. For that was all it was. He certainly hadn’t imagined Lottie’s full-bodied flinch when he held her hand last night, nor the look of sheer terror when she thought they might have had to share a bed. And thank God for that.

All he had to do was bring her to London. They could be there in four days. If he bungled this up in any way, Sir Alfred could end his career. Then Alec would truly be left with nothing.

Their past hadn’t mattered in five bloody years. And it couldn’t matter now. He had responsibilities that went far beyond his pitiful, boyish desires. Keeping Lottie safe, and safe from him, was chief among them.

“This is an assignment,” Alec muttered. “An assignment. An assignment…”