Her eyes remained locked on him as he sat, but it wasn't an unfriendly stare. She was appraising him, for sure, but she was entertained by the interaction. As much as her work required her to be alone, she did enjoy conversation with others when she could have it, and despite her view of him leaning toward lechery, D'Art seemed like someone who would give good conversation.
"Gaelic," she corrected him, after allowing a smirk to pass over her lips at the bit about a little biting. It might be a little obvious to state that Ciara did not look Irish in the least, but that didn't mean there wasn't some ancestry down the line. The world was becoming more and more multi-ethnic, and Ciara was the offspring of such a union.
"I was just thinking about the origin of your name, too. French?"
She lifted her martini glass up again and sipped softly, letting her eyes flick briefly over to a couple that stood up and left, but then back to D'Art as if they never left at all.