Alec gripped the edge of the table and plastered a smile on his face. He had met Cardinelli under innocent enough circumstances—he liked buying ancient artifacts and sought Alec’s opinion on a piece of Etruscan Bucchero earthenware he was considering—but the signore had gone on to become his most valuable source, and the greatest gain of his intelligence career. No matter what Alec thought of him personally, it was vital that he keep things amicable between them. His association with men like Cardinelli was exactly why he needed to stay away from Lottie. Why he could never truly be forgiven. Alec had made his choices. And now he had to live with them.

“Hello, signore. This is quite the surprise.”

“I should say so! I was thinking of inviting you to dinner this evening.” Cardinelli grinned but his sharp gaze closely watched Alec. He possessed a rare kind of animal magnetism Alec had only seen in one other man: Sir Alfred. “I’ve a guest coming who has an interest in Etruscan art. You two should meet.”

“It’s kismet, then.”

“And where are you traveling from?”

“Pistoia. I was visiting some friends over from England. Yourself?”

“Roma. Business. You know how it is,” he said with a wink.

Where Cardenelli was concerned, that could mean anything. Alec would need to send word to Rafe Davies, his point of contact. The signore’s activities were always of great interest to the Crown. “Would you care to join me for a drink?”

The man glanced toward the doorway. “Tempting, but I saw the most alluring creature boarding earlier. I think she came this way. She looked English. Did you happen to see her? She wore a pink gown and was in possession of a divine backside.”

Alec bit the inside of his cheek. What a poet. “Sorry. Haven’t seen anyone matching that description.”

“Oh, you wouldn’t have missed her,” Cardinelli laughed.

“Come, signore,” Alec cajoled. “One drink.” His mouth was beginning to strain from smiling so tightly.

The man let out a wistful sigh and, thankfully, took the seat across from Alec. “Ah, well. She’s probably too expensive for me these days.” In addition to a long-suffering wife who mostly lived abroad, Signore Cardinelli had a rotating group of mistresses, each one younger than the last. Alec didn’t know where he found the time, let alone the stamina.

The man then gave him a wily look as the waiter handed them menus. “And as you know, I am a man of exquisite taste.”

Alec flicked his eyes to the menu. “I would expect nothing less, signore,” he said lightly, while hoping for all the world that Lottie wouldn’t have a change of heart and come looking for him.