He seemed to guess at her thoughts. “You take your time here,” he said, gesturing to the bath. “I’ll go see about our dinner. Make sure that door stays locked.”

Then he was gone before Lottie could manage another word.

By the time Alec returned, Lottie had washed, dried, and changed. After a bit of dithering she had donned a pale blue tea gown, as her sensible skirt and blouse were dusty from the road. If she had still been in her cottage, she wouldn’t have given it a thought, but the lacy gown was designed for more intimate company and meant to be worn without a corset. Lottie then chided herself for even worrying about such a thing. It seemed unlikely that Alec would be scandalized, if he even noticed.

Lottie sat in a chair by the window plaiting her damp hair and watching the sky turn ever deeper shades of pink when she heard the key in the lock. The door swung open, and Alec bent down to retrieve the tray he had brought up with him. As he entered, a heavenly smell filled the room, and Lottie’s stomach quietly rumbled. It had been hours since their respite by the river, though it felt far longer.

“I’ve brought provisions,” Alec announced as he moved to set the tray down on the table bearing two plates of food, a small pitcher of water, and two glasses. “Roasted chicken. Signore Garda assured me they still use their nonna’s recipe. I—” He glanced up as she stood and paused.

His eyes moved steadily down her form with such deliberateness that it nearly felt like a caress. Lottie stood a little straighter and tried to ignore the growing appreciation in them. It did not matter. And she did not care. When she took a step forward, Alec’s eyes leapt back to her face before he immediately looked away.

“I—here,” he mumbled as he set the tray down on the table. “Here it is.”

Lottie took a seat. “It smells delicious,” she said briskly, hoping to cut the tension that suddenly filled the air. “Won’t you sit down?”

Alec shook his head emphatically, as if she had offered him poison. He took a large step back from both the table and her. “I’ll wash up. Before the water goes cold.” Lottie gave an artfully careless shrug and picked up a fork. But Alec remained in place watching her. She cast him an inquisitive glance and he snapped to attention and moved toward the tub behind her.

As she cut into the tender chicken, the screen scraped along the floor. She smiled to herself. Who knew Alec was so modest? But then came the telltale rustling of clothing being removed. Lottie’s throat suddenly went bone dry, and she poured herself a glass of water from the pitcher. Just as she brought it to her lips, there was a light splash as Alec stepped into the tub. She immediately pictured one long, well-muscled leg joining the other as he slowly eased himself into the tepid water. Alec let out a faint sigh and the water sloshed around the tub, making room for his tall frame. Lottie took a generous sip from her cup and attempted to focus on her food. It was excellent. If Signore Garda’s nonna were here, Lottie would compliment her profusely. Then again, the woman would likely be far too preoccupied by the large, naked man in the tub behind her…