I stepped up to him, hovered on the edge of his personal space, then came closer. He eyed me warily but did not move, held, I think, by a curiosity stronger than any decorum. I stretched up on tiptoe, careful not to touch any part of him, half closed my eyes, and deeply inhaled the scent of him at the join of his neck and jaw. Then I stepped back and smiled sweetly. His eyes followed me, still wary but also alight with a sort of intrigued amazement. “If I may ask, why did you do that?” I felt—let me confess it—a little feminine thrill at the deepened tone of his voice. “Just checking,
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