“Not at all. Want me to dry?”

She smiled at the offer. “No, I’m almost done. Make yourself at home.” She looked down at Alessio. “All right, you saw him. Now run on up to bed.”

Alessio frowned. “Devo?” Do I have to?

“Yes, you do. Give me a kiss.” Eliana crouched down and Alessio kissed her on the lips then turned to Ross. “Bye, Ross.”

“Mr. Story,” she corrected.

Ross winked. “See you later, Alessio.”

“Ciao.” He walked slowly up the stairs.

When he was gone Ross said, “He’s a well-mannered little boy.”

“He wasn’t twenty minutes ago. He wouldn’t go to bed because he knew you were coming.” She put the last plate in the cupboard. “He was so upset that he missed you the last time. I had to promise him that he could stay up until you came.”

“He told me about the scorpion.”

Eliana rolled her eyes. “I hate those things. It’s one of those things you want a man around the house for.”

“To kill scorpions?”

She dried her hands with a towel. “They’re good for other things too,” she said with a smile. “Would you like some dessert wine?”

“Please.”

She stowed the towel under the sink then took a bottle of Vin santo from the counter, took two glasses and poured them half-full. She handed a glass to Ross then leaned back against the counter with her own. “You should have just come for dinner. I always make too much.”

“I should have. It smells good.”

“Tonight was simple.”

He sipped his wine. “How good is Alessio’s Italian?”

“Perfect for a seven-year-old. Probably better than mine. He doesn’t have an accent. He’s grown up here, so his Italian is as good as his English. Maybe better.” She took a drink and held it in her mouth before swallowing. “Maurizio won’t speak to him in English of course.” She set her glass down on the counter. “Well, are you ready?”

“Sì.”

As they climbed the stairs to her studio, Ross asked, “How many portraits have you done?”

“Maybe a dozen or so. I’ve done a couple portraits of Alessio. But he lasts about two minutes in a chair, if that. So I just worked from photographs of him. A couple years ago I did a portrait of Maurizio. I knew he’d never find the time to sit for one, so I found some pictures and painted it from those. I gave it to him for his birthday.”

“What did he think of it?”

“He said he liked it. In fact he praised it.” Eliana frowned. “Then I found it in the back of his closet a month later. He doesn’t really care for my painting.” She turned on the light in the studio. “Here we are.”

Ross glanced around the room. Though he had seen the room before, he had not paid much attention to it then. It was cluttered with art supplies, charcoal sketches and paintings.

“You have such nice art in the house. Even besides yours. Did you choose it all?”