He froze at her answer -- froze, in a manner of speaking. It was the wrong word, given the heat that washed over him in that very moment. He hissed through his teeth, a sound so soft that it could have gone unnoticed. The madness in his brain urged his hand down toward the action she'd expressed, and it was only the shock that kept him from following through.
He knew the question she was asking. He'd been touched, kissed, but never in the way she meant. There'd been opportunity, but he knew why his father had never chosen the Golden Path when he could have. It was love, love of the woman that had birthed Leto himself -- and then it was too late for Paul Atreides. No, Leto knew his own path, and knew better than to cause himself unnecessary pain. But now...
Shaking his head, he rubbed both palms down the sides of his arms, trying to get the ache out of his skin. "I can't imagine it," he said. "I wish..."