progress of his letter and repeatedly calling off his attention by messages to his sister. Mr. Hurst and Mr. Bingley were at piquet, and Mrs. Hurst was observing their game. Elizabeth took up some needlework, and was sufficiently amused in attending to what passed between Darcy and his companion. The perpetual commendations of the lady, either on his handwriting, or on the evenness of his lines, or on the length of his letter, with the perfect unconcern with which her praises were received, formed a curious dialogue, and was exactly in union with her opinion of each. "How delighted Miss Darcy will be to receive such a letter!" He made no answer. "You write uncommonly fast." "You are mistaken. I write rather slowly." "How many letters you must have occasion to write in the course of a year! Letters of business, too! How odious I should think them!" "It is fortunate, then, that they fall to my lot instead of yours."
as his irises. The effect was striking. "No lies, Eva. Ever." "That's not a lie. So what if I'm attracted to you? I expect most women are." Wrapping up what was left of my candy bar, I shoved it back into the shopping bag I'd tucked into my purse. I didn't need chocolate when I was sharing air with Gideon Cross. "But I'm not interested in doing anything about it." He faced me then, turning in a leisurely pivot, that ghost of a smile softening his sinful mouth. His ease and unconcern aggravated me further. "Attraction is too tame a word for"-he gestured at the space between us-"this." "Call me crazy, but I have to actually like someone before I get naked and sweaty with them." "Not crazy," he said. "But I don't have the time or the inclination to date." "That makes two of us. Glad we got that cleared up." He stepped closer, his hand lifting to my face. I forced myself not to move away or give him the satisfaction of seeing me intimidated
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