“Well, let me put it this way: the only thing about the King of Wands that doesn’t quite fit with you is that he is a man of fiery passions.”
He raised his brows. “And I am not?”
She smirked at him. “I don’t know. Are you?”
Such a question. He dismissed it as rhetorical until she laid the king on the table and locked eyes with him. Boldly. And as he studied her expression, he sensed an invitation. A dare. A challenge for him to answer her about whether he was a man of fiery passions. He nearly succumbed to the temptation to show her just how fiery his passions could be.
Restraint, Charles. Hold yourself in check.
He sobered, as temperance, his lifelong, rational, and calming friend, curbed his urge to kiss the question right off her lips.”