Lottie rolled her eyes as she placed the basket at her feet and the parasol by her side.

Marta patted his cheek then turned and waved to Lottie. “Arrivederci, signora! Come back with the child.”

All Lottie could do was smile weakly and wave back.

Alec climbed into the seat beside her. The cart was rather narrow, and his firm thigh briefly grazed hers, but it was more than enough for the startling warmth of his skin to seep into her own, setting off a confounding mixture of relief and restlessness.

It was barely nine in the morning, and her nerves were already in tatters. Lottie scooted away until there was no more chance of them accidentally touching. Alec glanced over but said nothing. He had put on a dashing, wide-brimmed slouch hat that suited him perfectly and looked well worn. He must have gotten it in some faraway place while saving a beautiful foreign woman or stealing government secrets. Most likely both.

Lorenzo clicked his tongue and jiggled the reins. The ancient mare jerked forward, along with the cart. Alec shot his arm in front of Lottie to keep her from hitting the back of the driver’s seat, but she pressed her hand against the wood panel and steadied herself.

She arched a brow. “You know I’m not really with bambino. There’s no need to act as though I’m made of glass.”

Alec placed his hand against his knee. “Of course.” Then he turned back toward the house and waved to Marta. “You are made of steel. Always were.”

Chapter Six

As the cart trundled slowly down the hill, the medieval village receded and the olive trees grew dense. The mild spring air was faintly scented with their woody fragrance, and Lottie made sure to inhale as much of it as she could. The hum of insects, the chirp of birds, and the crunch of the wheels on the dirt road only emphasized the silence stretching ever tighter between her and Alec. This road didn’t seem to have quite so many bone-rattling bumps as during the drive up the previous week. But then Lottie had been so elated that her plan had actually worked she might as well have been floating on air. Those feelings seemed utterly foreign now as tension practically clawed across her skin.

“So,” Alec casually began. “Besides tramping around Italy and taking up painting, how have you spent these last years?”

Lottie could only blink at him. The silence-shattering question was absurd in its…banality. He might as well have asked if she had ever been to the moon.

“We’ve a ways to go,” he explained without bothering to look at her. “Might as well make conversation to pass the time. I’m afraid I’ll fall asleep otherwise.” He punctuated this with a rather careless shrug, in case she had somehow missed that he was only bothering to talk to her in order to combat extreme fatigue.

Lottie managed to suppress a rather undignified snort. He could fall off the blasted cart, for all she cared. “I assumed Uncle Alfred would have kept you informed. Though I’m sure a man with your superior deductive reasoning can piece together the usual social schedule for a woman like me.”