"You are going to spoil me, Monsieur Winchester." A tiny smile was flashed towards him, as she tugged on the cork screw a few times until the cork popped out. Lifting the cork to smelled it, the scent of grapes intoxicating her mind for a moment. There was nothing better than a fine glass of wine. Of course, Emmanuelle was not a wine-snob, she was content with any sort of red wine. "Mmm, it smells delicious." Placing the cork screw on the table, she began to pour out the wine.
It was likely, that if Sam said something about the way she walked, she would find him crazy. While Emmanuelle knew there were women from France that were certainly more high class than her - take Bridget von Hammersmark for example, she wasn't French, of course, but she was well known through France as being a typical high-class, socialite actress. Emmanuelle was not that, she was raised on a dairy farm, with cows and her younger brother. She wasn't used to high society and actresses, unless they were on the silver screen in her theatre. While the previous owner of the cinema, Madam Mimieux, was filthy rich, Emmanuelle lived a quiet and private life. Her movements might have been fluid, but they were nothing like the girls around Ridgeway. She didn't dress like them, she didn't move in a predatory-cat-like way. She moved, if anything, naturally and nimble and light. She didn't stomp around in heels, nor did she strut around like some sort of hooker, she just moved with determination and natural grace.
"You know, Monsieur Winchester, I don't bite. You can sit on the couch as well, after all it's the best seat to see the screen. We are going to watch movies, oui?"
A finely sculpted brow arched slightly as he said the cabin looked better than his. "Oh? I was under the impression that all the cabins looked alike. What does yours look like?" Head tilted just slightly as those stormy blue eyes looked directly at him. He was certainly an interesting man, then again, majority of the people at Ridgeway were fascinating.