<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="color: #40FF40"><span style="font-size: 150%; line-height: 116%;">Martine Karembeux</span><br/><span style="font-size: 120%; line-height: 116%;">The youngest daughter of Sir Damian</span></span></span></div><br/><br/><div style="text-align: center;"><a class="postlink" href="http://i1343.photobucket.com/albums/o793/Galvin_Fugazi/d5668922-425e-4e73-8f97-dd73233101dd_zps99f99557.jpg">[ img ]</a></div><br/><br/><div style="text-align: justify;">Martine was more than surprised when Sir Abel turned the game around and teased her in the same way. When she leaned in to kiss him he pulled back and for one moment she wanted to hit him, but then his kiss took the desire for revenge away.<br/><br/><span style="color: #80FF00">“Martine, I really do enjoy your company…”</span> He said seriously and Martine was for one moment tempted to answer him honestly that she enjoyed it too and that she started to feel really comfortable around him, but only for a moment as she remembered his teasing. Instead she muttered a <span style="color: #FF8000">“Shit!”</span> Abel’s eyes looked at her curiously, as she seemed to be angry.<br/><br/><span style="color: #80FF00">“What’s wrong?”</span> His concern was sincere and Martine had counted on that, knowing how worried he was about his sister already and that he probably was the same towards her. <span style="color: #FF8000">“I have to be meaner in my pranks then. It is impossible that you enjoy my company after I tried to mock you all the time. Either you are prone to my jokes or you are really in love with me… and I can’t tell you which idea frightens me more. To have a deadly serious husband or a dancing bear at my side. Both are so frightening creatures. Can’t you be some dancing puppy? That would be way cuddlier…”</span><br/><br/>She poked him in the ribs. <span style="color: #FF8000">“Come on dancing puppy let’s see how your dancing skills really are. I hear some music and I feel like dancing…”</span></div>