Page 13 of The Professor's Wife

“You just did it again.”

“I was checking.”

“For what?”

“To see if you were lying.”

“And?”

“You weren’t.”

His smile deepened. “So, what is it about my hands, Daisy?”

I took another bite of my ice cream to avoid answering. “Nothing.”

His brows shot up. “Nothing?”

“They’re just hands,” I lied.

“So, you stare at a man’s hands like this often?”

“Not like this,” I admitted before I could stop myself.

The playfulness in his expression shifted. His eyes dropped to my mouth as I drew my tongue along the edge of the cone.

“Not like this,” he repeated quietly.

My pulse quickened. I pointed the cone toward him. “You’re hardly innocent.”

“I never said I was.”

“You keep looking at my mouth.”

His gaze settled there again, deliberate this time. “I know. I’m very aware at what I’m looking at.”

The bluntness of it made my stomach tighten.

“At least I tried to deny it,” I said.

“I don’t see the point.”

“The point issubtlety.”

“I walked away from a paying audience because I saw you sitting alone.” He lifted one shoulder. “I think subtlety left a while ago, Daze.”

I smiled despite myself. “That was very dramatic.”

“It was expensive, too.”

“How much did you lose?”

“No idea.”

“You abandoned your guitar case without checking?”

“I checked.”

“And?”