Remy's grin grew to Chesire Cat proportions. "Ah, ya know a bit a' French, cherie? Dat makes ya even prettier." He let his eyes wander down her for a moment, taking in sights from her face to her chest and down her torso. How he loved a Southern girl.
He looked back into her eyes, taking a few steps toward her, putting her just within his reach. "I t'ink it's an experience wort' tryin' for," he said, attempting to run one of his fingers - using something of his brain, it was one of the gloved fingers - down her cheek.