Ianto has always been good at being quiet; it's a particular skill of his. It served him well working for Torchwood, but he's also unfailingly polite, and it seemed rude to sneak up on the woman and then sneak away just as soundlessly. Maybe he should have, but the moment she turned to look at him he was struck by how lovely she was.
He might have been taken (twice over), but he certainly wasn't dead.
He feels a little odd then, like his head is filled with cotton wool, but then he feels pleasantly euphoric, like the aftermath of sex. He almost glances around for Jack, because normally it's the other man's scent that invokes this kind of stupefying reaction, but Jack's no where in sight. Obviously. How stupid could he be? Jack was at home with Gwen, cuddling babies and knitting booties.
Facetious? Perhaps.
"I work for Tony Stark," he said softly, taking a step back, even though he wants to take a step forward. He thought she might be flirting with him, and while he liked to look, he definitely couldn't touch. Jack would just likely laugh it off, but he didn't think Gwen would like it much.
"His assistant. Ianto Jones. A pleasure to meet you Miss...?" he trails off, realising he hasn't asked her name. Normally he'd be more discreet about who he was, but it just slipped out.