"Then Claire must be a happy woman," Emilia declared, withdrawing suddenly. However, despite her having leaned back, her eyes never left his and her finger remained on the rim of her glass. Hot and cold, but not unreachable.
Tilting her head to let her hair fall over her right shoulder, Emilia continued, voice only a subtle pitch lower, "I'm almost jealous." She punctuated the end of her sentence with a pout, but her gaze was unabashedly mischievous.
Emilia realized she was gambling. Reminding a man of the forbidden could go one of two ways. It could close him up considerably... Or set his loins afire like only the unattainable could. Either option would be entertaining; the uncertainty definitely had its thrill. But the latter would be a pleasure for both of them. She would ensure it.