Her soft, coquettish voice was enough to melt anyone's bones. He could swear this woman was the most affected and annoying creature in the world... Yet, as he gazed at her beauty—her face as delicate as a petal, her crimson lips—he was seized by a sudden urge to bite her. Yes, to take a hard bite of those luscious lips, biting hard enough to make her yelp.
That thought sent a peculiar sensation through him.
But alas, the timing was off, and the place inappropriate.
All he could manage was a heavy cough. "Hmph," he muttered, "What's there to see?"
She raised her finger almost right up to his eyelashes. "Look... look at my hand... isn't my hand especially beautiful and slender?"
He was at a loss for words and took her hand away, discontentedly replying, "Didn't you not want the ring? Why are you wearing it?"
She pouted and mumbled, "I told you to look at my hand, not the ring... Hmph... it's my hand that's beautiful, got it?"
"..."
