Marcus shifted in his seat, angling himself to face me fully. That dangerous smile still painted on his lips like a spell designed to undo skirts and sanity.
"So..." he started smoothly, voice dipped in velvet and dark temptation. "Do all witches from your region have such mesmerizing eyes, or is it just you?"
Before I could answer—or blush like an idiot—
Salem, stretched out on my lap like he owned it, rolled over and yawned theatrically. "Careful, Deputy. That line was last seen rotting in a 90s rom-com graveyard."
Marcus blinked. Smiled tighter. "Okay. Fair."
He tried again, leaning just a little closer. "I must say, you carry an aura I can't quite put my finger on. Mysterious. Electric."
"Probably static from her socks," Salem offered, licking his paw with deliberate nonchalance. "She shocks herself all the time. Super sexy."
I glared down at him. He winked.
Marcus laughed under his breath but forged ahead, clearly not used to being verbally cockblocked by a furball.
