The satin-clad men parted their circle for Armenia, and Patrick felt a streak of jealousy at the thought that any of them might have shared her bed at some point in the past.
Odd that in the space of only one dance, he felt more affection for the lady than he had with anyone else since the death of his wife.
“Edoardo, there is someone here you simply must meet,” Armenia said, holding out a hand to indicate Patrick.“SignorePatrick McAdams.”
Patrick bowed deeply before shaking the hand that Edoardo held out.“Mio don, it’s an honor,” he said.
“Ah, you are the American who wished to make a deal with me,” the conte said, grinning.
“About sheep, was it?”Armenia asked, arching an elegant brow as if she didn’t believe the reason Patrick had provided.
“Come.I will speak with you in my study,” Edoardo said, waving for Patrick to join him.
Patrick glanced around at the others and nodded before taking Armenia’s hand to his lips.“Thank you for the dance,mia donna,” he said.
Once again, he felt her shiver, but when he straightened, her attention had gone back to the ballroom.
“Prego, Mr.McAdams.”
From her look of worry, Patrick realized she had lost track of her charge.
Since the conte didn’t seem particularly concerned, Patrick followed the aristocrat out of the ballroom, down a short corridor, and into a study featuring a cluttered desk and a huge marble fireplace.
He would have to look for the conte’s aunt later that evening.
