Her wine red lips curved into a little, knowing smile. “Are you offering to ruin me, Your Grace?” He met the smile with one of his own. “Are you asking to be ruined?” Her smile did not waver. Still not Grace, but Grace’s mask, the kind that would not easily be moved. “Who says I’m the one who would be ruined?” He almost missed a step. “Are you offering to ruin me?” “Are you asking to be ruined?” Yes.
