Selene's closeness was an attack in itself. Her perfume mixed the sweet scent of night-blooming jasmine with a sharp note, like fresh blood—meant to unsettle. Her voice was low and tempting, a weapon designed to soothe and weaken
But Edward was not a callow youth. He was a survivor. A creature of instinct. And his every instinct screamed that the woman in front of him was a coiled viper. Beautiful. Hypnotic. Utterly lethal.
He didn't pull away. He didn't flinch. He simply stood his ground. A rock in the stream of her charm. His own presence a silent, cold counterpoint to her fiery one.
"I'm listening," he said. His voice was flat. Devoid of the intrigue she so clearly expected.
His stoic behavior seemed to amuse her. A genuine, sharp-toothed smile flashed across her lips. "Oh, I do like a man who gets straight to business," she murmured. She finally retracted her clawed finger. "No tedious posturing. No tiresome flattery. How refreshing."
