She reached up and tucked a willful curl back behind her ear, delicate fingers with perfectly manicured nails brushed along her cheek. It was only the tell tale ink stains on her fingertips that gave way she did anything but sit around and look pretty.<br/><br/>Her lips parted as a shudder ran through her, one she hoped did not show, as if she could feel his thoughts in her soul. Thoughts her soul decided were far too dark for her to know.<br/><br/>"Sir Redvers," she repeated. She slid open a small ornately carved box on the glass counter top and withdrew a slender writing instrument and a sheet of scented paper. It smelled of violets, her favorite flower. All these movements were done while she held his gaze, his closeness disconcerting and she was thankful for the counter separating them. Finally her gaze wavered and she bent her head, her lips parting further as she wrote a figure on the sheet and turned it around and slid it across the counter. Likely the figure was quite a bit higher than he expected.<br/><br/>Her fingers lingered on the sheet as her other hand lay across the cover of the book he sought. She lifted her gaze to judge his reaction, her face far closer to his than she expected and her breath caught in her throat.