“Ah, bene,” he announced, raising his scantily haired head with a satisfied nod and a barely contained, unapologetic belch. He offered Sophia a smile, one that both surprised and disturbed her. “I believe we have met everyone. You will excuse me?”
It was an announcement, not a request. He turned and stalked away, away from Sophia and toward a large group of robed noblemen in the opposite corner.
Sophia took a stunned, reflexive step forward, reaching out a hesitant hand toward him.
“Signore?”
Pasquale spun back, the slight smile replaced with a pinched look of irritation.
“What?” He snapped off the end of the word between his teeth with irritation.
Sophia’s tongue tripped, her thoughts rambling and incomplete, astonished that he would leave her unescorted in this roomful of strangers
