“We will know when we know. By the looks of things?” He peers out the window, up at the gray sky. “I would say tomorrow or the next day.”
“Looks like we’ll need to find a place to stay for the night,” I say to Fabiana, who gives me a tight nod. “Is there an inn or a hotel nearby?” I ask.
“There’s an inn about four doors up the street. It’s run by Layla Foramina,” Domenico says.
“She’s my cousin,” Margeaux pronounces proudly.
“Is that the only accommodation here in town?” I ask.
“There’s a hotel about one kilometer up the road, but it’s full. My brother runs it,” Margeaux says.
“We don’t have any choice. Do we?” Fabiana says.
“Let’s go and see about some rooms,” I reply, and she gives a reluctant nod.
Fabiana tries to pay for our meal, but I pull rank, and then the three of us dash through the rain, arriving at the door to the inn. Sheltering under the awning, I knock onthe door and read the sign, which saysOsteria Delle Laylain peeling black paint.
“Thank goodness there's an inn or we might be sleeping in your car,” Fabiana says.
The door creaks open, and a woman in a dark blue dress, her white hair cropped short with a pair of purple-rimmed glasses balanced on her nose, greets us. “Margeaux said you were coming, Your Royal Highness.” She eyes my sweater, but she doesn’t pass comment.
“Word gets around quickly,” I reply. “You must be Layla. I hope you’ve got room for us, and that you take dogs.”
“You are all welcome. Please come on in out of the rain, sir, and—” her eyes land on Fabiana “—and friend.”
“I’m going to be reported as your latest fling,” Fabiana says under her breath as she steps inside.
“Are you going to report that?” I ask.
“Unlikely.”
Layla leads us up a narrow staircase, chattering about the storm and apologizing profusely. “The view of the mountains is breathtaking. It’s such a shame you can’t see them.” She comes to a stop outside a door. "I have only one room available. The storm brought in several other travelers, and my inn is small but comfortable."
Wait. Only one room?
She swings open the door to reveal a small but tidy room with a window overlooking the storm-lashed street.
And one bed.
Onesmallbed, probably only a double.
My pulse leaps.
Fabiana and I both freeze in the doorway as Toffee pulls on her leash, eager to get inside.
Neither of us looks at the other.
“Are you sure you don’t have another roomsomewhere?” Fabiana asks, and there’s a distinct note of panic in her tone.
It doesn’t do my ego any good.
“We’re full to the gills, miss, but I’m sure you’ll find this room very comfortable. It has its own ensuite bathroom,” Layla says proudly, as though an ensuite will seal the deal.
“Thank you, Layla. You’ve been most helpful,” I say.
“I'll leave you to get settled, sir,” she says before she flashes Fabiana a look and leaves.
“Definitely your latest fling,” she mutters under her breath.
