“Buona sera.” Lottie waved them in and stepped aside.

The maids marched into the room and began setting up the bath with swift, competent movements. Two poured the water into the bath, while another added a generous helping of sweet-smelling oil and flower petals from a small basket. The fourth retrieved a screen from a corner of the room and neatly arranged it by a chair laden with fresh towels. All the while, each one took every opportunity to throw brazen looks at Alec. If they had actually been married, Lottie would have been rather piqued—not that she could blame them.

Alec leaned against the balcony’s doorway with his hands in his pockets and his eyes cast down, oblivious to their attentions; his mouth was set in a hard line and his brow was furrowed in deep concentration. The setting sun bathed him in that perfect pinkish glow artists only dream of. He resembled a powerful Roman general mulling over strategy on the eve of battle.

Lottie’s heart beat even faster than before, when she stood frozen in the doorway taking far too much pleasure in his declaration.

You are very beautiful.

She had thought herself long immune to the shallow flatteries of men, so it was unsettling how badly she had wanted to believe him. But to what end? Finding her attractive certainly hadn’t stopped him from leaving five years ago. No, there was little to be gained by catching the eye of a man. Better to be treated with respect, considered an equal. Though that seemed even more elusive. Lottie began riffling through her carpet bag, if only to have something to do besides stare at him.

After the maids finished preparing the bath, Alec gave each of them a coin. They all finally deigned to speak and made a great show of profusely thanking him. The prettiest one even went so far as to place a palm on his chest, cooing, “Sei un uomo così gentile, generoso.” Alec’s only response was to pluck her hand off his person. She gave a haughty sniff at his rejection and swept grandly out of the room while the other three followed. Not one spared Lottie even a glance.

She rolled her lips between her teeth, trying to contain her laughter, but it was no use. Alec shot her an irritated look but he, too, was fighting back a smile.

“You might want to apologize to the young lady. I see a great future for you here, working alongside Signore Garda.”

Alec raised an eyebrow, amused. “Is that so?” He rubbed his jaw in mock consideration. “I suppose there are some similarities between espionage and innkeeping.”

“You must admit, it would be an excellent cover.”

“That is true. You’d be surprised by how useful innkeepers are.”

Her smile faded at the unintended implication of his words. “Yes. I can imagine.” Alec must have questioned the innkeeper in Florence, a sharp-eyed British emigre. Lottie had taken pains to avoid the older man when she slipped away from the pension, but perhaps she had not been so careful.