Word Count » 350
He was a hard one. His glances never scanned her more than once and he never seemed to drink in her youthful lithe body. It was ridiculous the way he seemed to focus above her chest, when they (and her hips) where some of her most desirable features. Granted, her thighs may have been a bit thick and her waist was not the most narrow, but she was not a thin stick with no delicious meat on her bones. Why would he not look at her? She almost furrowed her brows and growled in frustration at his chastity and honorable intentions. How could he keep his hands off when she offered so willingly. Looking never hurt and it was always easier to reel in a man who looked with interest or hunger than one who kept his eyes honorably high.
"A house? And you're making it better?" she said softly in surprise. A handyman? Useful, but inappropriate for her current needs. She let a half grin, dark and suggestive peel across her face, careful to turn way to keep him from glancing at her thoughts. A man with hands that were strong were sure to be useful in the manners she liked. "You would make a woman very happy if you are making it beautiful. Does it have a garden?" she asked, with true sincerity. Plants were something she did like and flowers for beauty made her happy.
"Me?" she said dumbly, letting surprise color her face as she pursed her lips in thought. "Well, I like flowers. I think they're pretty, and I like the ones that smell sweet." She waved a hand over her body in a vague way, though her fingers lingered near her chest to add more emphasis to it. "I make oils too, if I find a lot. This scent is from a swamp rose. Silly name but sweet fragrance." She hoped they could avoid talking about her pack, and she avoided the question, feigning full attention on the question about what she did. "I don't think you're boring at all."
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