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Awareness dawned in his eyes. “Kiss her?”
“Uh huh.” So much for getting enjoying my shoulder feel-up. Not cool to be sizing up a man’s arms while discussing his first kiss with his potential bride.
“How?”
“What do you mean, how?”
“How should I kiss her?”
I shoved out my chin. Hit him with a major stare of are-you-serious. Wasn’t computing with the dork, and his open expression said so. He was just as lost as the moment he’d knocked on the door.
“Well. How do you think she wants to be kissed?”
Gah.Was I really doing this? With him?
He’s the client. Return tothat preset. You’d be able to do this if he was still the client. Only now, instead of leaving this place with a deposit check, you be leaving with karma points.
Which, at this point, was nearly better than a check—considering how much karma was going to owe me.
“Kissing.” He peered around the room again, seeking his unseen angel or devil. His jaw jutted, a fascinating sight due to his dark stubble. “It is…like artwork, yes? Disgusting or stunning, depending on who wields the brush.”
Just like that, the knot in my gut fell loose. A sound fell out of me. I recognized it, bizarrely, as a laugh. “That’s a damn good way of looking at it.”
After my laughter, I let a smile linger.
Felt it drop as he dipped his gaze back toward me.
Then pierced it all the way through me.
Blue-bright glass, edged in a silver sheen of something I could no longer ignore or deny…
…as he leaned over, closer and closer…
And cupped my face with his long, firm fingers. Touched me with his sure, steady intent.
“Tell me, Lucina…how you like to be painted.”
