Sweeney grinned then. A wide toothy sort of grin that it was obvious that whatever was running through his mind was no good. It probably wasn't the wisest move of his lifetime, but Sweeney decided to act on it anyway. "Fret not, lass," he said and reached forward to give her a quick rap on the bottom. "You're not my type."
There was something about being around the Djinn that brought out the absolute worst behavior in Sweeney. Worst in the sense that it was wholly inappropriate for that situation. And had he been thinking at all, he would have realized what a bad idea it was to touch her again.
Instead he started walking again, assuming she would just follow. She should follow. It was far to dangerous a place to be. Especially for a woman dressed as she was. Why'd she have to dress like that, anyhow? Back when it was fashionable, sure, but Sweeney didn't dress like he had in ages past -granted, he spent a large chunk of those years naked, but that was beside the point.
But the way Jeannie dressed just tempted him into mischief. Not because he was interested in her, certainly not, but because it made him think of belly dancers writhing and undulating about. It was that, mixed with his general good nature that prompted him to tease her just a touch and pat her rear.