9. Mixology

He raised a thick, curved eyebrow, his eyes twinkling in amusement. If he dropped the magazine lower, Kiersey was sure she would spot the twitch of those dusky rose lips in the hint of a smile.

She tightened her grip on Zanéh and contained the puerile urge to step back like one scolded. His gaze, admittedly, did make her feel reproved.

"Yes," he said simply and put down the magazine on the glass extension tray spanning the side of his seat.

His rosy lips, which looked pinker than the last time she had seen them, were slightly pinched, contrary to the amusement she had glimpsed in his eyes.

Slowly, he rose to his feet, swinging his earnest gaze from her to the hostess. In the little time it had taken him to switch gazes, his stare turned from warm and amused to cold and daring.

The hostess moved back a step, clearly intimidated. Kiersey could understand how she felt. She herself had felt a transient surge of alarm run through her at the weigh