And then Violetta flashed a mysterious grin in Thomas’s direction, as though the warning against unwanted attentions did not apply to him. She lingered there for a moment before returning to the hapless Harlequin, who had spent the scene trying and failing to woo her.
“If this is how you treat the men you do not want,” Harlequin said in an exaggerated voice, “then how are you with the men you do want?”
“I am a perfect angel,” she said to Harlequin with a coy look, then turned her flashing smile on Thomas.
Heat flooded Thomas from head to toe. Up on the stage, Harlequin looked more than a little jealous, but Thomas didn’t care. He grinned right back at Violetta, not caring how many people in the audience caught the look. He knew damn well that women were his weakness, but at the moment, he didn’t care. The prospect of working intimately with Violetta was in serious danger of becoming more important even than finding his brother.
That thought sobered Thomas in a hurry, sending sharp pangs of guilt straight to his stomach as the show continued. Hadn’t his father always scoffed and rolled his eyes at him because Thomas was more interested in bedding than wedding? There he was, on the verge of doing something important and meaningful with his life for what might have been the first time since he struggled through university, and all he could think about was how quickly he could get Violetta Roan on her back.
By the time the play finished, Thomas was thoroughly disgusted with himself. He paced around the plaza, trying to force his thoughts to stay on the straight and narrow, even though that level of seriousness didn’t come naturally to him. He had to think of Asher, to think of all the ways his life was in immediate danger, and the fact that Lord Beverly was trusting him to be a hero. Lord Beverly trusted Violetta as well, though. He couldn’t forget that.
“You look as though you didn’t enjoy the show,” Violetta said, appearing suddenly at his side and startling him out of his thoughts.
“I enjoyed the show very much,” he said, smiling again at the sight of her. She had taken off her Columbine costume and was dressed as any English lady holidaying in Rome would be. Every trace of stage make-up was gone from her face, and anyone who didn’t already know who she was would have thought she was a simple and demure lady of modest fortune.
Thomas’s smile grew. No wonder Lord Beverly trusted her. Violetta was an actress, after all. She could slip in and out of whatever role the Secret Service needed her to. It all made sense.
“You look as though you’ve just solved the mystery of the pyramids,” she said, her grin as coy as ever.
The reference to Ancient Egypt shook him and reminded him of why he was there. “You know that my brother’s disappearance is connected to Egyptian archeological digs, don’t you?”
Something tightened in Violetta’s expression. Though her movements remained casual as she looped her arm through Thomas’s and led him out of the plaza, there was no doubt that she had transitioned into business. “We cannot talk here,” she said quietly, gazing up at the late-afternoon sky between the old buildings around them. “We will walk,” she said, shifting to focus on him with a look that was both dreamy and seductive. “That way, anyone who might see us or who might be following us will simply think we have formed an understanding for an assignation.”
Thomas’s eyebrows inched up. “Have we formed an understanding for an assignation?” he asked, hoping, in spite of the seriousness that continued to press down on him, that they might.
Violetta merely laughed. It was a deep, rich sound, a sound of promise and temptation. “Now, Lord Landry,” she said with a teasing look. “Do you think I am the kind of woman who would jump blithely into bed with a man I barely know?”
The heat in her eyes as she gazed up at him told Thomas that she was exactly that sort of woman. Strangely enough, though every moral lesson he’d had drilled into him as a boy screamed otherwise, he found he didn’t mind at all. In fact, he’d always admired women who were free with their favors over the priggish misses his mother had always tried to palm him off on. A woman who wasn’t afraid of her own sexuality was a woman who could command even the most stubborn of men. And truth be told, he rather like being commanded now and then.
“I suppose I am just another in a long line of men to gain your favor,” he said as casually as possible, though the statement was more of a question than his pride wanted to admit to.
Violetta didn’t seem fooled at all. “I am very discerning, Lord Landry.” The mischief in her eyes was all the proof Thomas needed that she was playing with him, and that she had the upper hand in everything, including the mission they’d been handed. “That is the Trevi Fountain,” she added, nodding to the stunning landmark as they passed.
Thomas’s jaw dropped at the sight. He’d seen drawings, and even photographs, of the magnificent fountain many times, but to walk past it and have it acknowledged so casually was almost laughable. Particularly as Violetta dragged him on, as though she saw such wonders every day.
He almost tugged on her arm to stop her so that he could marvel at the artwork, until Violetta casually said, “We’re being followed,” with a smile as though she’d told him she loved him and wanted to bathe in the fountain naked with him.
Thomas snapped his mouth shut. He had the good sense to walk on without looking around to see who might be tailing them. “You’ll have to forgive me,” he said, doing his best to look as though she’d just made a lewd suggestion. “I’m not used to this game of espionage.”
Violetta laughed as though he’d told a particularly droll joke. “I don’t believe one ever truly gets used to it,” she said, turning a corner and heading along a slightly quieter street.
As they moved around the corner, Thomas took the opportunity to glance subtly around. There were dozens of people crowding the historical streets around them, but none of them stood out as someone who might be trailing them. Either Violetta was imagining things, or she was much more observant than he was. He suspected the latter.
“Living in Rome this past year has been such a treat,” she said as though there was nothing at all to their conversation. “I’ve been able to take in all of the famous sights—the Colosseum, the Circus Maximus, the Spanish Steps. Your brother was being held in a house near the Basilica di Santa Maria Sopra Minerva when he was first brought to Rome, I’m sure, but he has been moved since then. Perhaps more than once. The Roman Forum is a site that you simply must see while here in Rome.”
Thomas nearly stumbled at the way she dropped vital information into their conversation so casually. His mouth dropped open, but he struggled to know how to reply.
At last, he managed to clumsily blurt, “I’m particularly interested in….” He scrambled for something to say. “Gardens,” he said at last, spotting what looked like a vast and lovely garden ahead of them as they exited the alley they’d passed through. “I, um, find them fascinating. My brother always did too. I would love to figure out a way to rescue him from the doldrums of his ducal life so that he could see more.”
As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he cursed himself. He was rubbish as a spy, and Violetta probably knew it.
“Let me show you some of my favorite gardens,” she said, smiling as dreamily as ever while they continued to stroll down the street as though they hadn’t a care in the world. “I know of two other houses that your brother might have visited recently. They bear observing, as I believe the owners intend to plant gardens there soon.”