When he didn't respond immediately she stopped hoping she'd gone too far; she knew she had. And the movement; she tensed, she couldn't help it. Almost imperceptibly, but she did. By the time he stood up she'd relaxed, realising it was a bluff - she should have recognised it, it was a move she used often. Raise the whip without letting it fall.
His hands on her shoulders though. That was not acceptable. Nobody touched her without her permission, without her invitation, and suppressing the urge to twist in her seat and slap him took every ounce of her impeccable self control.
When he started to talk, though, that urge vanished. After he paused to let her think she had to swallow hard before she could say anything - he knew what he was doing, standing there, just out of her view, moving nothing but his lips. Prolonged contact with someone was not a regular thing for her, not without her controlling it. It made her so very uncomfortable, and deciding what to say took effort.
"Yes, I wanted to meet you. I wanted to meet someone who I knew without doubt was an equal in playing games, and my words were not meant to cause offense. What you do takes planning and manipulation on a scale I couldn't hope to master. You..." oh God how she hated saying this, why hadn't she held her tongue and swallowed her instinctive rebuttal at his disdain for her profession "...do have the power."
When he spoke about Sherlock she bit her lip slightly. She'd done better than anyone before, damn it, yet he was right, she'd come so close just to fail. But she had given Moriarty what she thought he'd wanted prior to that. "I promised I could use him, and I did. He took less than 5 seconds to figure out the email, just to impress me. But he understood things I didn't expect the aptly named 'Virgin' to even contemplate. So in the end I lost" even The Woman couldn't keep a slight tremor and an edge of bitterness from her voice at this point "and no, it's not fun. I envy you that. I'd lie and say otherwise, but you'd know if I did I imagine."
When he tapped her on the cheek she almost flinched. She was not used to this, and she inwardly scolded herself again for not restraining her anger and brushing his words away - instead of the honest response she had given. The feeling of being at someones mercy was not something she had wanted to experience again; especially so soon after leaving 221B.
She remained silent during his final words, bar softly murmuring "blue, thank you" to the waitress as he ordered for them both. He had given her time to think, and she'd take it. She shifted in her chair, avoiding eye contact, uncrossing her legs. She sat forward slightly before recrossing them and taking her wine glass for a sip. She looked up at him with an almost-smile on her face, taking another sip. "The wine is beautiful. You're a man of good taste." She would bring this back in her favour. Somehow.