“So...no regrets?”he prompted.
She angled her head to one side, her expression inscrutable.“Well, we weren’t struck by lightning, so I suppose not,” she whispered.
He turned and placed the hand he was still holding so it rested on his forearm.“I am glad to hear it,” he said.
They made the slight turn at the Palazzo Madama and another onto Corsia Agonale before emerging onto Piazza Navona.He led them to the north, reminding her they still had one more fountain to visit.
“There’s not much to see with this one,” she warned.
“No statuary?”he asked in surprise as they approached the simple fountain.
“None.Just a water spout,” she said as they stopped before the pool of water contained by an ornate marble surround.
“It definitely needs statuary,” Patrick remarked.“Something bold.Jupiter or Neptune,” he said, his free hand fisting as if he was holding a trident.He briefly posed, his arm upraised as his expression turned fierce.
“You could offer to model for it,” she teased.
“Mayhap you could be the model for one of Neptune’s nymphs,” he countered, before shaking his head.“No, that wouldn’t do.”
She stared at him, obviously offended.“Because I’m too tall?Or because my bosom is too large?”
“Because it would mean the sculptor would see you naked, and I can’t abide the thought of another man seeing you like that,” he answered.
Blinking, she was about to put voice to a complaint but thought to tease him instead.“Are you saying you would be jealous?”
He nodded.“Sì.Absolutely.Remember, I have every intention of proposing marriage.Again,” he claimed.
She chuckled, obviously not believing him as they completed their walk around the simple fountain and headed for Via di Tor Millina and her villa.
“I promised you a luncheon,” he said.“Do you have a favorite place for a midday meal?”
She didn’t answer right away, which had him slowing his steps lest they go too far in the wrong direction.
“Villa D’Avalos,” she stated.
He blinked.“You wish to eat at your home?”
“Sì.My bedchamber.”
“Uh...by yourself, or...?”
“With you, of course.On my bed.”
Patrick had to resist the urge to grin like a schoolboy at hearing her words, but he couldn’t help how his steps quickened.
He was starving in more ways than one.
