"The tour! Well, I suppose all that time in Washington might have dulled your memory of the place." Freyr smiled and made a florid gesture with one arm and held it out to her. "Come then, milady, and we shall take a turn about the house."
Why the fuck did she want a tour? Was she just making up something to do? He was suspicious of her motives, breaking in here, and she wasn't naked enough for it being a sexy surprise. (But he would end the tour in the bedroom.)
That wine the other day had burned his mouth. He'd said it was sour, but it had been bad enough that he'd spat it back into the glass rather than swallow. Now he wondered about Freyja, if she had tampered with it perhaps. Through his genial smile he watched her, just as she watched him.