The warm, balmy air caressed my skin like a whisper-soft kiss. I entered the bar area and immediately saw him at a table. It was situated in an intimate corner, overlooking the terrace wall. The sky was studded with stars, and the full moon hung like a ripe fruit before me. I’d tried to keep my interactions with Enzo to a minimum tonight. I didn’t want any of the tour group to figure out we were meeting up, and my guilty secret pulsed with a thrill I relished.

I slid into the chair opposite him and smiled. “Hi.”

“Buona sera, Francesca,” he said in his deep, lilting voice. “What can I get you? Vino? Cocktail?”

“Chianti is perfect, grazie.”

He lifted a finger and gave the waiter my order. He already held a low tumbler of whiskey or cognac in his other hand. The ice rattled against the crystal glass. The lingering scent of smoke drifted to my nostrils.

“Did you have your evening cigarette yet?” I teased. “Or did the chicken dance push you to the edge so you smoked two?”

His chest rumbled with a laugh. He’d stayed in his evening clothes, dressed in sleek, tailored navy pants and a short-sleeve blue striped shirt. He’d discarded the red tie and opened up the first button of his shirt. His hair looked mussed, as if he’d run his fingers through the thick strands too many times. “In all my years of being a guide, tonight was the first time I witnessed a drunken group take over a restaurant and do the chicken dance.”

“Pretty badass, huh?” I said with a wink. “Did you see when Steve grabbed that guy? I thought it would be a disaster.”

“Me too. I planned to step in, but my presence wasn’t needed.” The waiter came back with my drink and Enzo inclined his head in thanks. “I see you have some dance moves you’ve kept hidden.”

I choked out a laugh. “I already had a disaster with my fall on the Spanish Steps. If I find another video with me flapping my arms, I’ll never recover.”

He quirked a brow. “What video?”

Uh-oh. Of course I hadn’t told him and was completely relieved when the fervor died down. I checked every day and views were only a trickle with an occasional LOL comment. Thank God I had a business IG account and not a personal one, or I’d have been screwed. I hesitated but figured I’d confess. “Someone must have filmed my tumble, because Allegra found the video blowing up on Instagram. I freaked out.”

He shook his head. “That’s terrible. They actually posted it? What’s wrong with people today?”

I shrugged. “Guess they thought it was funny. You got a lot of fans.”

He frowned. “What do you mean?”