James knew that he had gotten under her skin, he just didn’t know when he should stop. The twisted intellect and red-tinted perception drove him to push, press, and bend until someone broke, and it took every ounce of effort that he had to keep his mouth shut now. There was something about this girl that stilled his inner insistence to pry into the things that she wasn’t ready to share. Perhaps, after all of these years, he had finally<i>grown up.</i>The curiosity was still there and reflected in his eyes as he leaned forward with than eagerness he was most likely oblivious to. His rugged features and deceptive youth relaxed into an expression of genuine curiosity rather than its typical cynical twists and furrows.<br/><br/>“Do I make you uncomfortable, Ms. Barnes?” He asked in response to her shifting across from him, his voice teasing. “You seem nervous. You’re shifting around and struggling to keep your eyes on mine. But your pupils are also dilated, sweetheart, so I know you’re not scared. You’re<i>intrigued</i>, definitely curious, and maybe a little aroused. But that’s just a guess based on what I see in front of me. I don’t need witchcraft, magic, and special sight to be able to read a person,” he said, his words as casual as they were intent. He was hyper-focused now on the young woman in front of him to the point that he didn’t even bother to glance at their waitress as she set two waters in front of them and asked if there was anything else that they needed. She didn’t linger.<br/><br/>“You’re absolutely right about this not being a normal circumstance. You’re even more right about an ulterior motive.<i>That </i>has not changed one bit between there and now. You’re an exceptional and extremely intelligent woman, Lane Barnes, but you’re creating hypotheticals for the both of us when the situation is simple,” he responded cheekily and finally leaned back in his seat again. His eyes left her to stray back to her friend, Vivienne, who still occasionally peaked over at their table in curiosity. This time, he winked at her and offered a thumbs up. Just to see how that indication turned out later.<br/><br/>“Because you’re assuming that I invited you to dinner for two reasons. The first and obvious reasons, which is correct, is because I need that grimoire. You’re either going to let me read it or not, regardless of my motivational skills. That’s going to be<i>your </i>choice in the end,” he continued, this time with a gesture as he turned back to watch her. There was something candid in his expression as well as his tone of voice. There was nothing condescending in his voice, merely his own perception of the situation. “And I’m not so much of a monster just yet to try and coerce you otherwise if you decide that you aren’t going to let me. What I do know, Ms. Barnes, is that your other fear – or assumption – is incorrect. I did<i>not </i>invite you to sit with me tonight because I’m a lost puppy chasing a fantasy, or even a phantom, of a long dead lover of mine. I accept my losses as they come. However, I’ll be a liar if I didn’t see Adella in you?” He hesitated here as he asked the question and traced the detail of her features. Then he smiled.<br/><br/>“You’d be a liar as well if you didn’t suspect there was<i>something </i>akin to your ancestor, and something that you might consider looking into. Your family comes from a long line of witches. There are times when those lineages are too close to the spirits of those that came before them. There could very well be a part of Adella in you, aside from the usual genetics,” the scientist in him spoke out, but also the magician. Give him credit where credit was deserved – when it came to the arcane, he did his research.<br/><br/>“But you aren’t giving yourself enough credit. You assume that I can’t possibly be interested in the person that is<i>you</i>,” he grinned slowly. Maybe he could read her mind a little bit, after all. He had to pause after that statement, though, because the waitress once again returned with their orders on hand. She smiled nervously between the two of them now, and after his sidelong look, she didn’t bother asking if there was anything else that they needed.<br/><br/>“If all I were interested in was getting a book from you, I would lie. I would spin you a pretty story that tugged on your fragile heartstrings until you caved. Instead, I’m telling you the truth of my circumstance.” He picked up the Ruben on his plate and took a bite from it, eyes momentarily focused on his plate as he ate. He stopped halfway through the sandwich and peered up at her again.<br/><br/>“I’m a bastard – and not the traditional kind. My parents were devout Christians and happy newlyweds by the time my mother was fifteen and my father twenty. I only vaguely remember them, and the farm, and that fucking sheep, Tilly, that ate our laundry. I’m dangerous, unstable, and not parental approved when it comes to dating nice young women with their entire future ahead of them. So, no, Ms. Barnes, I am not here to whisk you off your feet because I’m reminiscing over a long dead woman from my path. And I’m also not here to play prince charming and write a fairy tale ending. I think both of us would wind up disappointed with how that story actually turns out.”<br/><br/>He couldn’t finish his food even if he wanted to. His expression had turned into something akin to the disappointment he mentioned a moment ago. He spent too long looking down at his place, his brow furrowed in thought, then pushed it away and knocked his elbows up on the table to again consider her. “You’re twenty three, brighter than most<i>anything </i>that I know, and you’re curious. What you are doubtlessly going through is what anyone with half a mind and ambition goes through – you want to make something of yourself. Witchy habits aside, that’s your brain telling you that it’s time to find your own life rather than live in your mother’s shadow.”<br/><br/>He wiped his hand over his mouth to hide the knowing smile. There was something else on his mind that popped up during her explanation that he wasn’t going to mention just yet, especially after everything else he had dumped on her.<br/><br/>“I’m buying you dinner, escorting you back home, and reading a bedtime story with you. If we sleep together, I would hope that it would be a pleasant experience rather than a regrettable one,” he finalized the point with a wolfish smile and a bob of his head that he covered up by lifting his water glass to take a drink.