Anne would have typically protested, insisted that she was, most certainly, not blushing (even if she was), but something about him was disarming, alluring, and charming.No one had ever had this sort of effect on her.
Every glance, every grin, tease, wink, and word seemed both familiar and new, exciting and enthralling. It would have been, honestly, damned near impossible for him to put his foot in it. He had even gotten one of Greece's finest wines -- which was older than she was. And yet, while she knew that the math was correct on her thought, something about it seemed off. But that was a trivial detail, a weird inclination she shrugged off with nonchalantly.And it was incredibly easy to shrug off such things by just looking at him, such was the reaction he caused in her.
An impish grin made its way to her features after the waiter's departure. "I suppose you might know," she said, with initial coyness, before hushing her voice. "But, for the record: it's probably a bit of both. And it was toe-curling, epically illicit," she mused.