For a quick second Oz almost wanted to protest. The Barolo was for Thomasina, not for Madam Hart — but he was being ridiculous. They were staying at a vineyard. He could always find another bottle of wine to send her, and it wasn't as though she would have any idea that the bottle he'd originally intended for her had been consumed by the owner of a musical hall instead. Besides, this was what he'd been waiting for, wasn't it? It was the whole point of inviting her. The way she was looking away and moving her fan drew attention to her neck and her breasts, neither of which were fully visible given the neckline of her dress but some hints of skin from both were peeking through the lace.

Obviously he was going to follow her lead; there was no question of his abstaining.

"Before us is a sunset over the vineyard in Florence, and you'd like a tour of my suite," he said with a sly smile. To the waiter, he waved dismissively and remarked, "Very well, then, send it all to my room." He hadn't taken his eyes off of her since he'd started speaking, but gave her a more purposeful look now. "Is there anything else that suits your fancy?"

---