He laughed, and I was surprised at the rich sound, full of gusto and volume. I studied him with interest. I pegged him at about only five-seven, and his face held nondescript features that combined to make him easy to dismiss. He couldn’t boast of a sharp jawline or high cheekbones or even a sexy goatee. His face was round, with a blunt nose, high forehead, and heavy brows. His hair was dark and curly, and his eyes were a rich brown, the color of melted chocolate. He wore tan pants, mustard-colored loafers, and a crisp button-down green shirt with oversize cuffs. His body seemed fit, but it wasn’t as if he was busting out of his clothes with muscled biceps and rock-hard abs. The man was completely forgettable, and not my type. But there was something else that intrigued me—an energy that almost burst from him, an ease in the way he held himself and looked at me with a warm humor I rarely spotted in the male species unless they had a goal of seduction or gaining something they wanted. His scent rose to my nostrils, a delicious mix of musk, coffee, and rich spice that made me want to take a big whiff. His gaze met mine, and for one crazy moment, my cheeks began to heat in a blush.

“Then I will try not to tempt you too early in the tour,” he said, opening his hands in the air. “But I must warn you about the bakeries. Especially Nonni’s in Siena. One of my favorites.”

I couldn’t help but smile back. He wasn’t mocking me but seemed to appreciate my dilemma. “Then I’ll save up my calories for it.”

“You won’t have to. We’ll be doing so much walking on this tour, carbs will become your new friend. You want to be sure you’re not hungry and have comfortable shoes. It is the only way to enjoy Italy.”

It was odd to speak with a man who tried to take care of me. Maybe it was part of the tour-guide training.

“Buona sera, Enzo,” my mother said.

He directed his attention toward my family. “Buona sera. I hope you had a good rest and will enjoy dinner.”

“I’m starving,” Allegra said. “Is tomorrow the Vatican and Sistine Chapel?”

“Sì. I’ll be going over some of the stops for the next few days after everyone eats.”

“Would you like to join us?” I asked, motioning to the empty seat next to us.

He shook his head. “Grazie, but I shall be eating separately tonight and will return later.” With a nod, he moved down to the next couple, chatting a bit and working the table like a pro. I wondered if he’d always been a guide or had previous business or sales experience in another field. What was the job market like in Italy?