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Jesus Christ, Ito convince ins at forty They never once ht set in

“Have I got soer to the corner of her mouth, her brow puckered in a tiny frown

My gaze lingers on her er across the deep bow of her lip “Paprika,” I lie There’s a tiny dish of chickpeas and pu between us She’d helped herself to it earlier

“Am I salty?” Her eyes lift, her voice huskier now

I findit to ardless of whether it was or wasn’t an invitation and irrespective of how the way she’s looking at hten, and e to make my voice sound at odds with how I feel

“I don’t think I’ve ever had one”

They’re a little sweeter, round, and ripe The perfect accompaniment to a martini and alht But I don’t say any of that, opting for instead, “You look like a girl from Andalucía”

“Like someone you know?” Her mouth twists, unimpressed

I shake rown in Andalucía” I only referred to her colouring Dark hair Dark eyes Since when have I been so aard? Since when have I forgotten to just go for what I want? Could it be because you have a hard-on for a woman at least fifteen years your junior? my mind unhelpfully supplies

“That’s just great, Lyle I rereed to keepbut sharp

“Agreed to? I wasn’t aware I had a choice”

“I’e”

“Oh, but you are, Holland Your sparring wit and lovely face have me absolutely captive”

“Even if you haven’t offered me your name” She sends me a look from beneath her lashes, part tease, part seriousness And totally beguiling

“It’s Alexander,” I offer reluctantly because she intuited ive her h not one I’m called in my family circle

“Alexander,” she repeats with a slow nod of her head “I like it Do you go by Alex?”

I shake my head

“Can I call you Alex?”