"Si." And she said it so carefully and with just a hint of malice in it that the cat stood and stretched before greeting them with an arched back and a hiss. "Charming, isn't it? There's a reason I much prefer dogs."

As for Pippa, she closed the heavy wooden bedroom door before peeling out of her work clothes. Tank top, bra and jeans all neatly discarded in a wicker hamper before she bothered with pulling on a lightweight robe (that she only loosely belted around her waist). Her movements and offhand manner gave the impression that this is how the woman ended many of her days here in Venice.

Sitting at a small vanity, Pippa carefully pulled pins from her hair, letting the curls of varied lengths tumble free and creating something of a wild red mane about her face. Raking fingers through her hair, she looked at Rory in the reflection of her mirror, "I hope you don't mind my taking a quick shower. I'm quite disgusting after spending all morning in the studio."

Standing, she moved toward him and the door. "I'll only be a few moments." She had no real concerns about leaving him in her room or with her things. As for the cat, well...she half-hoped the beast would try something. The ball of fluff would be no match for a puca.

That is, if he's not distracted by Pippa's scattered mementos and photographs placed around the warm space. The few things she brought with her from New York and her sketchbooks filled with the things she's been working on in Italy. Some proofs of the latest work with Marcello.