“When may I call on you again?”Patrick asked, grasping her hand to kiss the back of it.She wore only a dressing gown, her hair completely free of its pins so it hung well below her shoulders.A few streaks of gray interrupted the otherwise raven color, but he thought it suited her age and bearing.
From her heightened color, it was apparent she had been tumbled and was happy about it.
“If I didn’t have to attend a family dinner at the Villa Montblanc this evening, I would ask you to stay,” she murmured.“Come for dinner on the morrow,” she added.“Seven o’clock.”
He nodded.“I shall be here,” he promised.He leaned forward and kissed her cheek before barely brushing them over her lips.“Buonsera, my Venus.”
“Good night, Patrick,” she whispered.
Making his way out of the courtyard and into the street, Patrick experienced a moment of regret.Armenia hadn’t invited him to spend the night, but then she had mentioned the family dinner.
About to turn around, he remembered he hadn’t been in his office since that morning.Duty called, and although he found walking more difficult than usual, he made it across the Piazza Navona and into his building as the sun was setting beyond the river.
